The Blackmailed Bride. Kim Lawrence

you take that thing out of my eyes?’ she appealed, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the torch.

      After a moment someone responded to her request.

      She could now see, though the loss of her specs meant the one standing some way away was nothing but a blurred outline suggestive of threatening bulk. The one who had held her was another matter! He was close enough for her to see quite well. Like herself, he was clad from head to toe in black. There the similarity ended!

      The hard, lean, muscle-packed torso Kate already knew about from her struggles; the rest of the package reduced her to a stunned silence. She blinked several times as she assimilated the attributes of her assailant, who ironically turned out to be the most physically perfect specimen of manhood she’d ever come across. These numerous attributes included ridiculously broad shoulders, snaky slim hips and long legs, and then there was his face…!

      And what a face! God I’m thinking in superlatives, some objective corner of her mind observed as she drank in the details of his long, arrestingly attractive, angular features. His was a starkly uncompromising face—a high intelligent forehead, an almost hawkish nose reminiscent of the strong Moorish inheritance she’d seen reflected in many parts of Spain, his beautifully sculpted slashing cheekbones stretched his even golden-toned skin taut and his mouth was an intriguing combination of control and passion. The jutting angles and sculpted planes married sweetly, giving their owner a countenance that could never be overlooked in a crowd, but combined with his incongruously blue eyes, fringed with extravagant lush lashes and slanted ebony brows, the exceptional became the extraordinary.

      The deep-set, startling blue eyes narrowed as he subjected her to a scrutiny just as thorough as her own of him—he didn’t appear overly impressed by what he saw. ‘Now, señorita, where is Gonzalez?’ he demanded impatiently.

      CHAPTER TWO

      MUTELY Kate shook her head.

      He subjected her to another glare of biting derision before abruptly firing a quick sentence in Spanish at his companion who immediately extinguished the light.

      For a moment there was total inky darkness. Kate, her brain working frantically, began to speculate on her chances of getting to the door before she was caught. It had to be evens or better? What did she have to lose? Quite a lot, actually, came the instant reply, and besides you haven’t got the photos yet.

      ‘Don’t even think about it.’

      She jumped as the wry voice emerged from the inky blackness, slicing through her frantic thoughts of escape.

      The owner’s powerful profile that matched the dark dangerous drawl was revealed as the second man pulled back the curtain, allowing the moonlight to filter into the room.

      Kate blinked, dazzled, as the flashlight once more swept across her face; it moved past her and she saw the second man shake his head.

      ‘Are you expecting him tonight?’ The tall one, who had boss written all over him, recommenced his interrogation.

      ‘I’ve never met Gonzalez,’ she rebutted honestly.

      Kate suspected she might be in the middle of a falling out between villains; she didn’t want to accidentally reveal anything that might make her position even more precarious.

      Under the circumstances, playing dumb might not be so hard, she decided bitterly, because only someone spectacularly stupid would have blundered in here like this! They must, she reasoned—now I can reason!—have been lying in wait.

      Her guileless response evoked no softening in the magnificently moody face of her sinister interrogator.

      ‘You just wandered in here by accident…?’ His eyes skimmed the outfit she’d chosen for her first foray into breaking and entering. ‘Dressed like that?’ A derisive snort emerged from between those fascinating lips—cruel lips, she thought, unable to control the fearful little shudder that chased along her spine.

      ‘You’re one to talk,’ she retorted, peering myopically from one man to the other; both their muscular bodies were sheathed in close-fitting black outfits. We must look like a convention of cat burglars; her full lips twitched at the mental image of a social gathering of black-clad thieves.

      ‘You find something funny about this?’ he grated incredulously.

      The second man had faded into the shadows, apparently content to let his partner in crime do all the talking—perhaps he was the muscle. Not that this guy looked like he needed any help in that area, she mused, as her eyes slid over his impressive torso—not an ounce of spare flesh anywhere that she could see. In fact, in that close-fitting top, if she squinted she could just about make out the slabs of individual muscle across… Stop! The warning voice inside her head shrieked.

      Kate took a deep breath and pushed her fear and lustful speculation aside as she tried to view the situation objectively—or at least without gibbering fearfully or drooling lustfully. If she was going to get out of this, he was the one she had to talk round, she decided, weighing up her opposition objectively. What she saw was not wildly encouraging. She’d seen rock faces with more give than that chiselled jawline.

      ‘Oh, yes, I’m just wild about being jumped on in the dark by some stupid big thug,’ she was frustrated into commenting bitterly. She prodded her aching ribs tentatively. ‘I’ll probably be black and blue tomorrow, which isn’t a good look in a bikini…’ she grumbled, even though she favoured one-piece bathing suits. Talking, even if she was talking rubbish, gave her time to think… At least, that was the theory…

      ‘If I’m such a vicious thug of limited intelligence, shouldn’t you be treating me with a little more respect…?’

      The man had a point and, as for the intelligence part, if those alert eyes were any indication at all he had a brain like a steel trap.

      ‘Is that a threat?’

      ‘If I threaten you, you’ll know about it.’

      ‘I see not a threat, just a boast.’ With dismay, she saw a flicker of interest enter those laser-like eyes—she didn’t want his interest. Her release from this depended on him considering her harmless and an air of stupidity wouldn’t do her case any harm either. Despite this conviction, she couldn’t stop herself adding, ‘I’m normally prepared to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, but in this instance I don’t think there’s any if about it. You are a vicious thug and yes, I probably should shut up, but when I’m nervous I babble…always have done…’

      ‘I don’t think you’re nervous,’ he cut in smoothly. ‘I think that under that wide-eyed candour you’re as hard as nails. Did you arrange to meet Gonzalez here? Or did he perhaps ask you to pick something up for him? Does he know we’re on to him? Well?’

      ‘It won’t do you any good to bully me.’ She saw a flicker of amazement chase across his strong-boned features and wondered if she was being daring or just plain stupid to antagonise him. The truth was, she couldn’t help herself; something about this man made her want to score points…

      ‘I am not a bully!’ he refuted in an irritated steely drawl.

      She smiled in polite disbelief and heard what might have been his even white teeth grinding. ‘And it won’t do you any good,’ she elaborated. ‘Because I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about.’ She shook her head so emphatically that the hood of her sweat top slipped off her head.

      One dark brow rose as her silver-blonde tresses tumbled free from the loose knot she’d hastily confined them in on her head. Her stomach lurched as, with studied insolence, those electric-blue eyes moved over her body pausing overly long in significant areas.

      Kate’s first instinct was to cover herself with her hands. She almost immediately saw how ludicrous and demeaning her response to the earthy sexual appraisal was, and let her hands fall away; in doing so she saw the strands of dark hair caught in her fist.

      Unobtrusively