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One Night To Wed. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.

One Night To Wed - Alison Roberts


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her breathing slowed so that she could actually hear more than the blood pounding in her head.

      Then she would wait, listening intently for anything that might indicate danger. The Bennies’ unkempt orchard, with its long grass and overgrown apple trees whose branches mingled with each other, provided reasonable cover but the black tree trunks and twisted branches looked like stationary figures. It was also a haven for wild creatures and Fliss broke out in a sweat at the rustling a nearby hedgehog made.

      Having reached the end of the orchard, there was a far more daunting space to cross. The tiny cemetery with its headstones casting pools of black shadow so dark they looked like deep, water-filled holes. Fliss had never realised how many shades of black existed and they all seemed threatening tonight.

      It took a long time to gather her courage for the next step of this journey and in those lonely moments Fliss stared at the gravestones and tried not to think of the times she had attended burial services. Of the desolation she’d experienced as a ten-year-old child, watching her father being laid to rest.

      Of the guilt and helplessness when she’d stood at her mother’s graveside only a few years later.

      Fliss might never have found the courage she needed to move into the cemetery if she hadn’t heard the faint call.

      ‘Help…please…Someone help me!’

      It was a woman’s voice. A woman who was in pain and terrified. Possibly the one whom Fliss and Jack had heard scream what seemed like hours before.

      Fliss couldn’t not respond to the plea for help. The part of her that could forget anything personal and focus totally on the needs of someone else took over, and when she moved this time it was with a confidence and stealth she had been all too aware of lacking up till now.

      She almost made it to the crumpled figure lying between a tall headstone and the marble angel that was so old its nose had crumbled off. But by the time she saw the black figure launch itself at her from the shadow of another headstone it was far to late to even turn, let alone try to flee or defend herself.

      She landed in the grass, face down, with a jolt that forced any air out of her lungs, and the pain of trying to breathe again almost overwhelmed the fear that came with the knowledge that she was about to die.

      It was a male figure pinning her to the ground. No woman could weigh that much and still have the feel of iron-clad muscle and untold strength. Why hadn’t he shot her, like the others? Had he finally run out of ammunition? Was he going to kill her by some much slower and therefore more horrendous method?

      Fear kicked in then, and Fliss struggled, ready to fight for her life.

      She felt herself turning onto her back but her arms were pinned to the ground on either side of her head and her legs were still crushed by the weight of her attacker.

      The struggle was silent and fierce. The paralysing effect on her diaphragm from the initial body blow meant that Fliss couldn’t draw enough breath to scream yet. When she found she could suck in some oxygen, she stopped struggling for a split second to do just that.

      And in that moment she focussed on the face hovering so close to her own. She could see the features that were well disguised but not altered by the black substance that covered them.

      Could see dark eyes that were staring back at her with an extraordinary expression.

      A strangled sound like a sob finally escaped Fliss. A release of terror. The birth of something far more welcome.

      Her hoarse whisper was a desperate plea to confirm what she thought she was seeing.

      ‘Angus?’

       CHAPTER THREE

      ‘SHH!’ ANGUS LAID a gloved finger on her lips, with just enough pressure to remind Fliss that they could both be in danger right now.

      He raised his head and gave a curt nod, as though responding to an unseen message from someone else.

      ‘OK,’ he whispered, removing his finger. ‘We’re covered. But keep very still, Fliss, and speak very quietly.’

      She simply nodded, still trying to take in the fact that Angus was here. It hadn’t felt exactly like protection, though, had it? Being tackled like that and hurled to the ground.

      ‘I thought you were him,’ she whispered, a long moment later. ‘That you were going to kill me.’

      A gleam in the dark face showed as Angus smiled. ‘Same.’ His head moved as he scanned the woman he was still lying half on top of. ‘Are you hurt, Fliss?’

      ‘No. I’m fine. Just…scared.’

      ‘I know.’ Angus was still staring at her. ‘Why are you dressed like this?’

      ‘It was Jack’s idea.’

      ‘Jack? Who the hell is Jack?’

      Fliss could feel something remarkably like a smile gathering somewhere deep inside her. Despite this conversation being rapid-fire and quiet enough to be almost inaudible, she could detect something that sounded astonishingly like jealousy in that question.

      Did Angus still care?

      He clearly cared enough to want to protect her and that was enough for the moment. He was still shielding her body with his own and Fliss couldn’t help her awareness of the familiar feel of his long legs over hers. Of his lower body in close contact with her own. It imparted a sense of security that was so incongruous to the setting it was confusing. And perhaps it was that odd sense of security that allowed something in Fliss to respond so acutely to hearing that soft lilt underlying the deep voice. To remember things that gave her a tingling down her spine that had far more to do with excitement than fear.

      ‘He’s a patient,’ Fliss murmured. ‘I was at his house when this started. We’re trying to get back to my surgery.’

      She could feel the new tension in Angus’s body as his level of alertness suddenly increased.

      ‘Where is he now?’

      ‘He went a different way. There’s a little boy who might be hurt.’

      The low moan from nearby reminded Fliss of a more urgent mission. Of someone who was definitely hurt.

      ‘There’s someone here!’ Fliss couldn’t stop her voice getting louder. ‘I was trying to get to her when you attacked me.’

      ‘I was heading for her myself,’ Angus responded. ‘And then I spotted you.’ He rolled sideways and Fliss sat up. Angus pulled her flat again instantly.

      ‘Wait,’ he commanded. ‘I’ll go first.’ He raised his hand and made some sort of signal.

      ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘Letting Seth know what the plan is. We don’t use our radios unless we have to.’

      ‘Seth?’

      ‘My partner. He’s armed and close. He’s going to cover me while I check out that woman.’

      Fliss stared around her but could see nothing. Then she stared harder. A pinprick of red light showed behind a gravestone that was only a few metres away.

      ‘That light…?’

      ‘Sights on the gun.’

      Good grief! Someone was pointing a weapon right at them at almost point-blank range and Fliss had had no idea he was even there. These guys were good at what they did and no mistake. She was quite happy to let Angus be the one to move and see what the situation was with the groaning woman.

      The sound of distress grew louder a few seconds later.

      ‘It’s my leg,’ Fliss heard the woman say hoarsely. ‘I can’t move.’

      ‘Shh.’


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