Taken by Surprise by Tonya Ramagos Read Free Book Online
Authors: Tonya Ramagos
of heat, carnal hunger, everything she tried to bury all these months came rushing back. Even while trying to escape a drug lord's fortress with bombs exploding around them and guns firing at who knew what, she wanted him. She needed him. And it pissed her off.
"What's plan C?"
He had already started to crawl backward, returning in the direction they had come. No way would she go back to that room, even if he thought he could find another way out of it.
"Good question," Dregs muttered behind her.
When Michael didn't answer, she asked, "You do have a plan C?"
"I'm working on it."
Rhonda couldn't see his face anymore. She saw only the back of his head as he looked over his shoulder. She heard the determination in his voice, though, and didn't doubt he would come up with something to get them out of here. Adrien told her once that Michael was the best agent he knew. In the beginning, she spent countless hours talking with Adrien. Under the guise of research, she pried information from her friend about Michael as nonchalantly as possible, not wanting to allude to the crush on him she couldn't shake. Later, she spent more countless hours talking with Michael. She learned about the man behind the badge, the man inside the bronzed flesh ripping with powerful muscles who could drive her wild with a glance. She learned that, despite his position as team leader and boss, he preferred to be in the field. He liked going against the bad guys, as Adrien put it, and taking the bastards down.
Adrenaline made the man tick. Confident, almost to the point of arrogance, and dedicated to the job, he stayed cool under pressure and let nothing stand in his way of success. She had failed to learn how well he took suggestions when in the middle of a hostile situation. She was about to find out.
"Where are we exactly?" She didn't ask if they studied plans of the layout before coming after her. She took it as a given that they would. She knew they had made it a good distance down the ventilation duct before the first explosion that stopped them in their tracks. They'd taken a couple of turns along the way, too. If she ventured an educated guess, she would put them somewhere between the second-floor kitchen and the back parlor.
"We should be over the kitchen," Dregs answered.
Rhonda nodded, more to dislodge the visions that threatened to settle than in agreement to anything. Phay's men had taken the FBI agent to the second-floor kitchen the night they brought her here. She could still feel Phay's grip on her arm as he stood with her in the doorway. She could still hear his cold, calculating voice as he ordered his men to torture the agent. She could still see the blood fly across the room with each blow, the gleam of the razor-sharp knife as it came down. The resulting scream stayed with her long after Phay pulled her from that doorway and led her to the room that became her prison.
She breathed deep and forced her mind to concentrate on the vision she wanted, the things she saw two nights ago when Phay took her on a stroll around the compound before dinner. She carefully took it all in that night, made sure to catch every detail possible of the layout of the area without giving away the fact that she was desperately looking for a way out. She didn't know if she succeeded. Things Phay said to her over dinner and the day after led her to believe he'd known exactly what she'd been doing. She grew to believe he even took her for that walk to purposely give her false hope of escape. Now, she just might be able to turn that false hope into reality.
"This duct forks a few feet ahead, correct?" She tried to see past Michael, but his broad body coupled with the darkness made it next to impossible. "We came from the left."
"Yes." Michael's single-word answer gave her all the information she needed.
"Go right instead."
He faltered in his brisk crawl backward and finally looked at her. "Right is a dead end."
Rhonda shook her head. "Right is a parlor
"What's plan C?"
He had already started to crawl backward, returning in the direction they had come. No way would she go back to that room, even if he thought he could find another way out of it.
"Good question," Dregs muttered behind her.
When Michael didn't answer, she asked, "You do have a plan C?"
"I'm working on it."
Rhonda couldn't see his face anymore. She saw only the back of his head as he looked over his shoulder. She heard the determination in his voice, though, and didn't doubt he would come up with something to get them out of here. Adrien told her once that Michael was the best agent he knew. In the beginning, she spent countless hours talking with Adrien. Under the guise of research, she pried information from her friend about Michael as nonchalantly as possible, not wanting to allude to the crush on him she couldn't shake. Later, she spent more countless hours talking with Michael. She learned about the man behind the badge, the man inside the bronzed flesh ripping with powerful muscles who could drive her wild with a glance. She learned that, despite his position as team leader and boss, he preferred to be in the field. He liked going against the bad guys, as Adrien put it, and taking the bastards down.
Adrenaline made the man tick. Confident, almost to the point of arrogance, and dedicated to the job, he stayed cool under pressure and let nothing stand in his way of success. She had failed to learn how well he took suggestions when in the middle of a hostile situation. She was about to find out.
"Where are we exactly?" She didn't ask if they studied plans of the layout before coming after her. She took it as a given that they would. She knew they had made it a good distance down the ventilation duct before the first explosion that stopped them in their tracks. They'd taken a couple of turns along the way, too. If she ventured an educated guess, she would put them somewhere between the second-floor kitchen and the back parlor.
"We should be over the kitchen," Dregs answered.
Rhonda nodded, more to dislodge the visions that threatened to settle than in agreement to anything. Phay's men had taken the FBI agent to the second-floor kitchen the night they brought her here. She could still feel Phay's grip on her arm as he stood with her in the doorway. She could still hear his cold, calculating voice as he ordered his men to torture the agent. She could still see the blood fly across the room with each blow, the gleam of the razor-sharp knife as it came down. The resulting scream stayed with her long after Phay pulled her from that doorway and led her to the room that became her prison.
She breathed deep and forced her mind to concentrate on the vision she wanted, the things she saw two nights ago when Phay took her on a stroll around the compound before dinner. She carefully took it all in that night, made sure to catch every detail possible of the layout of the area without giving away the fact that she was desperately looking for a way out. She didn't know if she succeeded. Things Phay said to her over dinner and the day after led her to believe he'd known exactly what she'd been doing. She grew to believe he even took her for that walk to purposely give her false hope of escape. Now, she just might be able to turn that false hope into reality.
"This duct forks a few feet ahead, correct?" She tried to see past Michael, but his broad body coupled with the darkness made it next to impossible. "We came from the left."
"Yes." Michael's single-word answer gave her all the information she needed.
"Go right instead."
He faltered in his brisk crawl backward and finally looked at her. "Right is a dead end."
Rhonda shook her head. "Right is a parlor
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