Mackenzie's Pleasure by Linda Howard Read Free Book Online

an
    ominous form loomed in the doorway. The guard—of course there was a guard. Then there was
    a blur of movement, a grunt, and the guard sagged into supporting arms. As silently as her
    rescuer seemed to do everything else, he dragged the guard inside and lowered him to the floor.
    Her rescuer stepped over the body, snagged her wrist in an unbreakable grip and towed her
    from the room.
    The hallway was narrow, dirty and cluttered. The light that had seemed so bright came
    from a single naked bulb. More gunfire was erupting downstairs and out in the street. From the
    left came the sound of pounding feet. To the right was a closed door, and past it she could
    see the first step of an unlit stairway.
    He closed the door of the room they had just left and lifted her off her feet, slinging her
    under his left arm as if she was no more than a sack of flour. Barrie clutched dizzily at his
    leg as he strode swiftly to the next room and slipped into the sheltering darkness. He had barely
    shut the door when a barrage of shouts and curses in the hallway made her bury her face
    against the black material of his pants leg.
    He righted her and set her on her feet, pushing her behind him as he unslung the weapon
    from his shoulder. They stood at the door, unmoving, listening to the commotion just on
    the other side of the wooden panel. She could discern three different voices and recognized
    them all. There were more shouts and curses, in the language she had heard off and on all
    day long but couldn't understand. The curses turned vicious as the guard's body, and her
    absence, were discovered. Something thudded against the wall as one of her kidnappers gave vent
    to his temper.
    "This is One. Go to B."
    That toneless whisper startled her. Confused, she stared at him, trying to make sense of the
    words. She was so tired that it took her a moment to realize he must be speaking a coded
    message into a radio. Of course he wasn't alone; there would be an entire team of rescuers. All
    they had to do was get out of the building, and there would be a helicopter waiting somewhere, or
    a truck, or a ship. She didn't care if they'd infiltrated on bicycles; she would gladly walk out—
    barefoot, if necessary.
    But first they had to get out of the building. Obviously the plan had been to spirit her out
    the window without her kidnappers being any the wiser until morning, but something had
    gone wrong, and the others had been spotted. Now they were trapped in this room, with no
    way of rejoining the rest of his team.
    Her body began to revolt against the stress it had endured for so many long hours, the
    terror and pain, the hunger, the effort. With a sort of distant interest she felt each muscle
    begin quivering, the shudders working their way up her legs, her torso, until she was shaking
    uncontrollably.
    She wanted to lean against him but was afraid she would hinder his movements. Her
    life—and his—depended completely on his expertise. She couldn't help him, so the least
    she could do was stay out of his way. But she was desperately in need of support, so she
    fumbled her way a couple of steps to the wall. She was careful not to make any noise, but he
    sensed her movement and half turned, reaching behind himself with his left hand and catching
    her. Without speaking he pulled her up against his back, keeping her within reach should he
    have to change locations in a hurry.
    His closeness was oddly, fundamentally reassuring. Her captors had filled her with
    such fear and disgust that every feminine instinct had been outraged, and after they had
    finally left her alone in the cold and the dark, she had wondered with a sort of grief if she
    would ever again be able to trust a man. The answer, at least with this man, was yes.
    She leaned gratefully against his back, so tired and weak that, just for a moment, she
    had to rest her head on him. The heat of his body penetrated the rough fabric of the web vest,
    wanning her cheek. He even smelled hot,