Beloved Beast by Cathy McAllister Page A

standing.
    They reached the boat. They quickly climbed on board and Rambo pushed it away from the shore. He took a paddle and began to manoeuvre it through the dark water. For a while they glided along like this. Her rescuer proved to be skilful, but silent.
    “Thank you,” said Crissy.
    He looked at her and shrugged. Then he concentrated again on paddling. He did not seem to be particularly talkative.
    “Do you live here? – In the swamp, I mean.”
    “Hm.”
    “Can you get me out of here? I … I have money on me. It’s a bit wet, but it’ll dry again. Somehow I have to get to …”
    “No!” he said abruptly.
    Crissy sighed. Oh, great. Now she had been saved, but was stuck here in the middle of a swamp with a bloke who thought he was Rambo. She tried to decide what she should do now. Without help she would never find her way out of this swamp. They were off the tourist trail and also she had no boat. The only person who could have helped her out of here had just made his position very clear. And anyway, how did she know how his mind worked? He could be a murderer or a pervert. He must have definitely done something wrong, to be hiding here in the swamps. He was possibly a dangerous criminal. It seemed to her as if she had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.
    She looked at her rescuer. He was concentrating on the water and not taking any notice of her. A thousand questions were rushing through her head. Who was he? What was he doing here? Was he really a criminal? What was he planning to do with her? After the first shock, she now found his appearance fascinating. She wondered how his scars had been caused.
    Somehow the whole situation seemed unreal to her. First her ex-fiancé had wanted to feed her to the alligators and then she was rescued by a super-Rambo, just like in the action films. In a film she would of course now fall in love with her hero. Bizarrely this thought did not seem so very absurd to her. Her gaze remained on his sensual lip, and her belly gradually filled with tiny butterflies.
    Rambo turned his focus from the water and looked at her. His dark eyes studied her intensely and she blushed. The butterflies in her belly danced more and more wildly, and this was joined by a tingling sensation in her lower regions. His lips formed a teasing smile and she blushed still more. She became very hot and in confusion she looked away. Whatever was wrong with her?
    The muggy heat of the swamp could not be relieved by the shade of the cypress trees. Her hair was sticking damply to her head and she was fighting off a swarm of mosquito that seemed to like her.
    “You shouldn’t use sweet perfume,” he said. “That attracts them.”
    Crissy looked at her rescuer. He had a pleasantly deep voice. His direct look made her nervous. She found it impossible to work him out. On the one hand he had rescued her and seemed friendly, but on the other hand there was something dark and secretive about him that unsettled her. Perhaps that was simply because of his military appearance and his disfigurement. She did not doubt for one minute that he could kill a person. Apart from his brief smile a short while ago, his expression was almost without emotion. She could easily imagine that he was a strong fighter – merciless, when the situation required it, and a man whom it was best not to have as ones’ enemy. The question now was – where was he taking her? And what did he plan to do with her? Here, in the middle of the wilderness of Georgia, she was at his mercy. No one would rush to her rescue here and no one would find her here if he were to do anything to her. On the other hand, he had rescued her. Because of that she hoped at least that he did not plan to harm her.

    The narrow boat jerked and she looked around. They had reached land and she could see a hut between the trees. It stood slightly raised, on posts, about two feet above the ground. They had clearly arrived at their destination. Her rescuer