Ransom (Benson Security 4)

Belinda handed him the same rope that had been used to bind him. “Before you tie him, I need his jeans and his shoes.”

He stilled. “What?”

“I can’t run in my shoes. Plus, I don’t want my toes to be naked, waving around like a tasty treat for anything that wants to take a bite. Trust me, I don’t want to put my feet into his shoes. I mean, can you imagine how much sweat has pooled in them?” She shuddered. “But I want to live more than I care about his sweat. I can always bathe in antibacterial wash once we get out of this plac

e. Right?”

And she was back. The mouthy, fluffy-headed woman that drove him nuts. Who was the real Belinda? The woman who curled into his arms and needed him, or the woman who chattered like a chimpanzee? He honestly didn’t know, and that was what disturbed him the most. Would be ever know if the woman Belinda presented to him was real? Was everything just an act?

He pulled the guy’s sneakers off, while Belinda unfastened his jeans.

“Why do we need the jeans?” Beast asked as he tossed the shoes beside her.

“If I don’t cover up, I’m going to get eaten alive.” She grinned at him. “That’s a relief. He’s wearing underpants. If he’d gone commando, I was planning on taking my chances with the bugs. Because wearing jeans his dick had touched— Ew!”

Seriously? “You’re worried about mosquito bites? There are guys who want to rape you and you’re worried about mosquito bites?”

“It isn’t only mosquito bites. There’s the bot fly, too. It lays its eggs under your skin. You break out in pustules that erupt with maggots. You want to deal with that, be my guest. I’d rather be covered.”

With a grumble, Beast stripped the jeans off the guy and handed them to her. He tied the guard’s feet while Belinda shimmied into the jeans. They didn’t quite fasten over her hips, so she reached into that tiny bag of hers, produced an elastic hair tie and used it to loop the button and the hole together to keep the jeans in place. A second later, she was sitting on the floor, tugging on the shoes.

“This guy has tiny feet,” Belinda said as she struggled to wedge her foot into the shoe. “Made it. They’ll have to do. I’ve worn worse to a premiere, only this time there’s no stylist armed with Botox injections to numb my feet so I can walk.”

Botox? For her feet? Belinda definitely lived in an entirely different world to the one Beast lived in. He ripped off a strip of the guy’s T-shirt and used it to gag him. Then he slung the rifle over his shoulder and slipped the machete into his belt. He was good to go. He turned to Belinda, to find her busy stripping the stained sheet off the bed. She spotted him watching her and pointed at the torn mosquito net.

“Can you get that down? It’s a mess, but it’s better than nothing.”

He didn’t even bother to ask what she was doing now; it would only waste time. He grabbed the net, scrunched it into a ball and thrust it at her. She put it under her arm with the sheet and the two empty plastic bottles that they could, hopefully, refill with water.

“Ready now? You sure you don’t need to fix your hair before we run for our lives?” He sounded irritated, because he felt irritated. She was wasting time.

Her hand flew to her head, and she patted at her hair. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Beast pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself that after this little adventure, he never had to see Belinda Collins ever again. It didn’t help.

“There’s nothing wrong with your hair. It’s paparazzi perfect. I’m sure our kidnappers will appreciate how great your hair looks as they chase us through the forest.”

Her eyes went wide. “They’re going to chase us? I thought we were sneaking out. I thought they wouldn’t follow.”

Yeah, he was sure that in Belinda’s world, the kidnappers found that their captives had escaped, looked at each other and went, “Oh well, at least we tried.” He glared at her. “I’ll ask again, are you ready?”

“Ready.” She strode towards the door. “No, wait, I lied. I forgot my shoes.” She ran back for the stupid, sexy sandals.

“Leave them,” Beast said. “They’re useless.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “These are weapons. Didn’t you see Single White Female? Jennifer Jason Leigh killed a man by whacking a stiletto heel through his eyeball.”

For a second, Beast was lost for words. Then he remembered they had to run. He grabbed her wrist, removed the shoes and tossed them into the corner, before dragging her out of the hut.

“I hated those shoes anyway,” she muttered. “They’re no good for walking or dancing. But I thought I’d get my money’s worth if I could use them to kill somebody.”

Beast pretended he couldn’t hear her. It was for the best. For both of them.

He stuck to the shadows against the building walls, keeping an arm in front of Belinda to ensure she kept behind him and out of sight.

“We’re clear,” he whispered, and signalled for her to follow him across the clearing.

He figured they would expect them to take the shortest route of escape possible and run into the jungle behind their hut. So, he headed for the opposite side of camp, the one farthest away from their hut and the track leading out of the clearing. He wasn’t sure if going in the direction he chose would take them further into the jungle, or closer to civilisation, but it was the best he could come up with. In hours, they would kill him and rape Belinda. It was too risky to sit around waiting to be rescued. The faster they got out of camp and put as much distance as possible between them and their kidnappers, the better.