The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections. Louise Allen

began as a robbery had now become a hostage situation.

      Then Cassandra heard it…the distant sound of a siren, the noise increasing in velocity, followed by the diminishing sonorous wail as the engine cut.

      Seconds later the phone rang.

      ‘Pick it up!’

      The guard’s movements were careful as he obeyed, listened, spoke, then he held out the receiver to her captor. ‘It’s for you.’

      ‘Tell the man I want clear passage out of here and a fifteen-minute start. That’s the deal.’

      They wouldn’t buy it. At least, not without resorting to any one of several psychological ploys in an attempt at negotiation.

      The scene was too close to a movie script. Worse, the man holding her was desperate and wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her.

      Did your life flash before your eyes in a moment of extreme crisis? Cassandra pictured her mother, father. Cameron was there. Diego. Oh, hell, why Diego?

      She didn’t have a future with Diego. Dammit, she might not have a future at all!

      ‘I want all of you out. Now!’ He was incandescent with rage, and she consciously held her breath.

      The guards, Sally and Glen filed out quietly, the door closed, leaving only Cassandra and the madman in the workshop.

      ‘We’re going to take a ride together, you and me.’ His voice was close to her ear. ‘If you’re very good, I just might let you go when we’ve put in some distance from here.’

      Sure. And the sun shone bright at midnight in the Alaskan winter-time.

      His hand closed over her breast, and squeezed. ‘Or maybe you and me could shack up together awhile, have some fun.’

      ‘In your dreams.’

      He pinched her, hard, then thrust her roughly against a work-bench. ‘Pick up that damned phone, and tell those bastards to get their act together.’

      She could hardly believe they’d let him walk out of here alone. The gems in the vault were worth a small fortune. And there was the matter of her life.

      Her hand stung, and she saw blood seeping from a deep cut as she lifted the receiver.

      ‘Stay calm. Do what he says. We’ve set up road blocks. He can’t get far.’ The masculine voice was quiet, steady. As if he controlled a hostage situation on a weekly basis. Maybe he did, she thought wildly.

      ‘They make a wrong move, and you’re history, y’hear?’

      What happened next was a nightmare of action, noise, fear in a kaleidoscope of motion as she was forced to carry the bag of gems, then used as a human shield as her captor hustled her towards his waiting car.

      Would they try to take him out? Shoot, or hold their fire?

      In those few terrifying seconds out in the open she consciously prepared herself for anything, and it wasn’t until he shoved her across the driver’s seat and climbed in almost on top of her that she realised he was about to make good his escape.

      Taking her with him.

      He fired the ignition and surged forward, wheels screeching as he took off at a frightening speed.

      Cassandra automatically reached for the dashboard, not that it afforded her any purchase, and heard his maniacal laughter as he swerved in and out of traffic, then he took a hard turn left, only to scream with rage as he saw the road block up front.

      She barely had a second to gauge his next move when he swung the car round and roared back down the road to crash through a hastily set-up road block.

      The car bounced off another vehicle with a sickening thud of grinding metal before careening off down the road. Car horns blasted, brakes screamed.

      Cassandra saw impending disaster a few seconds ahead of contact, and she acted entirely on impulse, throwing open the passenger door and leaping out an instant before the car hit.

      There was a moment of searing pain as her body hit the asphalt, a conscious feeling of movement, then nothing.

      Cassandra was dreaming. Her body felt strangely weightless, and at some stage she seemed to drift towards consciousness, only to retreat into a non-intrusive comfort zone.

      There were voices, indistinguishable at first, then invasive as she came fully awake.

      White walls, bustling movement, the faint smell of antiseptic…and a uniformed nurse hovering close checking her vital signs.

      Hospital.

      She became aware of an intravenous drip, bandages on one arm…and the dull ache of medicated pain. Her head, shoulder, hip.

      ‘Good. You’re awake.’

      And alive. Somehow that fact held significance!

      The nurse spared Cassandra a steady look. ‘Multiple contusions, grazed skin, superficial knife wounds. Concussion.’

      No fractures, no broken bones. That had to be a plus!

      ‘We have you on pain relief. Doctor will be in soon. Meantime, you have a visitor.’ Someone who had descended on the hospital within minutes of the patient being admitted, the nurse acknowledged silently. Insistently demanding the best specialists be summoned, and the patient allocated a private suite. Each attempt to compromise had been met with a steely glare.

      ‘A visitor?’

      ‘If you don’t feel up to it, I can have him wait.’ It wouldn’t hurt to have him cool his heels a little longer. And if he dared upset the patient, she’d have his guts for garters.

      Who knew she was here? It was probably a police officer needing her statement.

      ‘It’s OK.’

      ‘Five minutes,’ the nurse stipulated, and left the suite.

      No sooner had she swept through the door, than it swung back and Diego entered. A tall, dark force whose presence seemed to fill the room.

      Her surprised expression brought a faint smile to his lips, one that didn’t reach his eyes as he advanced towards the bed.

      ‘No hello?’ He lowered his head and brushed his lips to her cheek.

      Not even being pumped up with painkillers stilled the fluttering inside her stomach, nor did it prevent her quickening pulse. ‘I’m temporarily speechless.’

      ‘That I should come visit?’ He kept his voice light, and wondered if she had any idea what he’d been through in the past few hours. Anger…hell, no, rage on being informed what had happened. And fear. Unadulterated fear he could have lost her.

      He was still fighting both emotions, controlling them by sheer force of will. Her captor would pay…and pay dearly for putting this woman’s life at risk.

      ‘No one could stop me,’ Diego drawled, his voice a mix of steel and silk.

      Cassandra looked at him with unblinking solemnity. ‘Who would dare?’ His power was a given. His use of it, unequivocal.

      His expression softened, and his eyes warmed a little. ‘How are you, querida?’

      The quietly voiced endearment almost brought her undone. ‘As comfortable as can be expected.’

      He lifted a hand and trailed gentle fingers along the edge of her jaw. ‘Is there anything you need?’

      You. Except he wasn’t hers to have. ‘When can I get out of here?’

      The pad of his thumb traced the lower curve of her mouth. ‘A day or two.’

      She had to ask. ‘My abductor?’

      Diego’s features became a hard mask. ‘Arrested and behind bars.’

      So there was justice,