Taken With The Enemy by Tia Fanning Read Free Book Online

door after they came in and cleaned. My hopes, which I didn't even realize were up, fell slightly. I had to attempt it anyway. I wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise. Well, perhaps that wasn't quite true.
    Listening closely, I tried to gauge if there were people in the corridor. I heard nothing but my rapid pounding heartbeat. “Don't get excited,” I scolded softly. “You're not going to get anywhere, even if the door is unlocked."
    No matter what I preached to myself, my body seemed to ignore it. It increasingly became anxious and alert with each step I took toward my freedom. I was a walking testament to the adrenaline rush theory.
    They were probably watching all this and laughing at me ... ‘Oh look, she actually thinks she's going to escape. Ha, ha, ha. The joke's on her.'
    My hand inched toward the handle.
    Grasping the cold metal, I held my breath and turned.
    It twisted beneath my fingers.
    Tugging lightly, I cracked the door open and froze, waiting for alarms to blare and booted feet to come rushing down the corridor.
    Moments passed...
    Nothing.
    I exhaled slowly. It couldn't be this easy, could it?
    I opened it all the way and stepped out into the eerie quiet. There was a door in front of me with a small gold plate screwed into the wall next to it, Arabic numerals etched neatly upon the face. I glanced behind me, seeing a similar plate, but with slightly different characters. Apartment numbers, I guessed.
    Looking right, I scanned the whitewashed walls, but saw no other doors except the one at the end where the corridor turned, also adorned with a plate. Must be another flat. I spun and searched left. The other direction held swinging wood doors with a small unreadable red sign above them, alight and similar to an exit sign. I hesitantly approached, finding the swaying fabric of my abaya loud in the oppressive silence. My nerves were on edge, my blood was racing, and I found it hard to draw in much-needed oxygen.
    Fuck. How far were they going to let this go? The wait was killing me. I wanted them to recapture me and be done with it. It's not like they didn't know I was gone, they had cameras in the flat. What the hell were they waiting for?
    I stopped in my tracks, shaking my head. God, what kind of prisoner wants to be recaptured?
    The kind whose enemies are playing mind games with her.
    Bastards.
    "Well, let's play,” I whispered, resuming my steps. I tried to focus all my nervous energy, will myself to calm down, and pay attention to my surroundings.
    When I got to what I hoped was a way out, I stilled and listened for sound on the other side of the swinging barrier. Hearing none, I checked behind me to make sure no one was there while simultaneously pressing on the wood just enough to slip through.
    I found myself in a small passage. Directly before me was an elevator. On one side of it was a stairwell leading up into darkness. On the other side, another stairwell descending maybe five steps into light.
    Ping.
    An engine turned on and the bulbs above the elevator began to glow.
    "Shit,” I gasped, fear searing my insides. Instinct surged and I bolted down the illuminated stairs, stepping on the hem of my abaya as I did. Propelled forward, I plummeted through the air.
    But instead of colliding face first onto the cold marble floor, I hit a yielding wall of wrapping warmth. Time stopped, the world stilled, and I found myself suspended in the most awkward of positions.
    "Steady,” the deep, familiar voice soothed. “I've got you."
    The sound reverberated in my ears. I was leaning into a sculpted chest, my cheek brushing against soft fabric. I inhaled slowly.
    Sandalwood.
    The numbing shock wore off and my body took inventory. Strong arms laced under mine held me up, my breasts crushed against a firm stomach, my back arched in, my legs were swept back behind me.
    "Are you okay?"
    I looked up. My captor appeared concerned, scared even. Oh God. I tripped and he caught me. Too embarrassing. Feeling heat rise