The Getaway Bride

“I—I—”

Her head lolled. She couldn’t find the strength to support it.

He was already leading her swiftly to the van, basically carrying her in his right arm since her feet refused to cooperate. She’d left the side door open when she’d fetched the toolbox for him, so it took him only a moment to place her inside the vehicle.

The slamming of that side door was the last sound she heard before she blacked out on the carpeted floor.

PAGE WOKE with a pounding headache, a nasty taste in her mouth, and a knot of foreboding in the pit of her stomach.

She was lying on her side on a narrow bed in what appeared to be a rustic cabin. The bed, a nightstand, a small dresser, and a straight-backed chair were the only furnishings in the room. There was a window on one wall, but it had been boarded up. The only light came from a small lamp on the dresser.

At least Blake hadn’t left her in the dark, she thought wearily. She tended to be more paranoid than usual when she couldn’t see her surroundings.

She rolled onto her back, wincing when the movement made her head throb. She should probably be more afraid, she mused. For all she knew, Blake—or someone he worked for—would be coming in any minute to kill her. Maybe it was a lingering effect of whatever he’d injected into her, but at the moment she was finding it hard to care.

She was tired of running. Tired of being alone and afraid.

Chiding herself for surrendering so easily after all she’d been through, she sighed. Okay, so she’d have to at least make an effort to rescue herself. Even if she had no chance of getting away, she couldn’t just lie here and wait for whatever happened.

Gathering all her strength, she sucked in a deep breath and rolled to sit on the side of the bed. She clutched the headboard as the room spun around her. Her stomach lurched and she broke into a cold sweat

She refused to give in to the nausea. She rested her head in her hands, willing the weakness to pass.

All she needed was a moment, she assured herself. She’d fight this dizziness off, then get up and try the door. She expected to find it locked, but she would make sure. And then she’d see

about breaking out.

The bedroom door opened, and she raised her head abruptly. Narrowing her eyes in response to the fresh wave of pain that crashed through her temples, she expected to see Blake enter.

Her heart sank when Gabe Conroy stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

His eyes searched her face. She knew she looked pale and wretched, her hair limp and straight, her jeans and knit top badly wrinkled.

He, on the other hand, looked wonderful. His long sleeved, red and white polo shirt clung intriguingly to his broad chest, and his well-worn jeans emphasized his slim waist and strong thighs.

There’d been a time when she’d made every effort to look beautiful for him, she thought with a pang she quickly stifled. She told herself it was better to look weak and vulnerable now. She had to get his guard down if there was any hope of outfoxing him a third time.

“What is it going to take,” she asked in a long-suffering tone, “for me to get rid of you?”

A slight twitch in his jaw was his only reaction to her sarcasm. He held a glass of water in his right hand; he offered it to her, along with two small capsules in his left palm. “Blake said you’d wake up with a headache. These should help.”

She looked at the pills for a moment, considered refusing them, then nodded and reached out with an eagerness she tried to conceal. She craved relief from her headache, but she was also aware that she needed to be rid of the pain so she could concentrate on getting away from him.

“Thanks,” she said after swallowing the pills and setting the glass on the nightstand. “Now may I leave?”

“Nice try,” he said, settling into the chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.

She managed to meet his gaze without squirming. “So this is...what? A kidnapping?”

“Something like that.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “The Gabe Conroy I remember was an upstanding citizen who would never resort to breaking the law.”

A faint flush darkened his cheeks; she suspected it was caused by temper rather than guilt “Yeah, well, people change,” he muttered.

That was something she knew all too well. Gabe wasn’t the only one who’d changed. Could she convince him that he wanted nothing to do with the woman she’d become?

“How long are you planning to hold me here?” she demanded.