satisfied she wasn’t booby-trapped or had a weapon hidden. But they had a problem. No one on the team had a key. They’d brought zip ties to restrain any prisoners. “Did you see if they left the key to the handcuffs in the room?”
She nodded toward the dresser. “Alejandro left it in the ring tray.”
“Alejandro?” he asked, walking to the dresser. Alejandro was Guzman’s youngest son, and the reason Guzman should have been there, for a celebration announcing his engagement. If this woman had been kidnapped, she couldn’t be the fiancée.
The key lay in the midst of several pricey rings, encrusted with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. He fished out the key and returned to the bed.
She’d pulled up the sheet again.
Not that he’d chastise her. Her pretty body was a distraction he didn’t need. He unlocked her manacle, noted the bruising around her wrist, and heard her sharp gasp as her arm dropped. Before he thought better of it, he reached out and kneaded her shoulder and arm. “It’ll take a few minutes for it to stop tingling.”
Deke coughed again, and Jackson dropped his hands. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll let you know once we’re in the air.”
Her eyebrows shot up, but she pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her, and then left the bed, padding to the closet to remove a long, printed dress and sandals.
“You don’t have anything sturdier?”
“Kidnapped, remember?” She shot him a glare. “No jeans or slacks in this closet. This at least covers me.” She strode to the dresser and extracted a lacy bra and panties. “Can I dress in the bathroom?”
Because he hadn’t had a chance to check the cabinets inside the bathroom, he shook his head. “Dress where you’re standing.”
Pink entered her cheeks, and, if possible, her chin lifted higher. But rather than dressing awkwardly under the sheet, she dropped it and began to draw on her underwear.
Jackson kept his expression neutral. Whoever she was, she was strong. And had quite a temper. The mystery of who she was and what she was doing there would have to wait. “Throw some more clothes into a pillowcase if you don’t have a bag.”
He turned to Deke as she scurried to pack. “Go on down. Have Wiley make contact and get the helo back to the drop site. Let them know we have one prisoner.” A huff sounded behind him, but he didn’t acknowledge it with even a pause. “Make sure the team has finished the search.”
Deke nodded then cast a glance beyond Jackson. “Commander Martir’s not gonna be happy. He wanted to keep this simple.”
Jackson shook his head. “She’s my headache.”
“I’m not anyone’s problem,” the woman said, stepping in front of him with a bulging pillowcase.
He glanced back at the dresser top. The rings were missing from the tray.
“They’re mine,” she said, defiance flashing in her eyes. “They’re the least Alejandro owes me.”
“I’ll take your word for it, ma’am.”
“Stop with the ma’am. You’ve already seen me in my birthday suit. My name’s Suri McAnally. Now, are you getting me the hell out of here?”
Suri wasn’t sure where the courage came from to bitch at her new captor. The moment she’d heard the stealthy footsteps enter her bedroom, she’d been terrified someone other than Alejandro had returned to molest her. Maybe an hour earlier, she’d known from the sounds of running footsteps and shouts coming from the courtyard followed by tires screeching away, that she’d been left behind to an uncertain fate.
When Jackson Keller had parted the curtains around the bed, she’d nearly peed herself she’d been so scared. A large dark shadow with the even more ominous outline of a large gun, and she’d been sure she was toast. What had precipitated the evacuation of the estate was a mystery. That she’d been the guest of someone dangerous had been apparent from the moment Alejandro drove her through the
She nodded toward the dresser. “Alejandro left it in the ring tray.”
“Alejandro?” he asked, walking to the dresser. Alejandro was Guzman’s youngest son, and the reason Guzman should have been there, for a celebration announcing his engagement. If this woman had been kidnapped, she couldn’t be the fiancée.
The key lay in the midst of several pricey rings, encrusted with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. He fished out the key and returned to the bed.
She’d pulled up the sheet again.
Not that he’d chastise her. Her pretty body was a distraction he didn’t need. He unlocked her manacle, noted the bruising around her wrist, and heard her sharp gasp as her arm dropped. Before he thought better of it, he reached out and kneaded her shoulder and arm. “It’ll take a few minutes for it to stop tingling.”
Deke coughed again, and Jackson dropped his hands. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll let you know once we’re in the air.”
Her eyebrows shot up, but she pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her, and then left the bed, padding to the closet to remove a long, printed dress and sandals.
“You don’t have anything sturdier?”
“Kidnapped, remember?” She shot him a glare. “No jeans or slacks in this closet. This at least covers me.” She strode to the dresser and extracted a lacy bra and panties. “Can I dress in the bathroom?”
Because he hadn’t had a chance to check the cabinets inside the bathroom, he shook his head. “Dress where you’re standing.”
Pink entered her cheeks, and, if possible, her chin lifted higher. But rather than dressing awkwardly under the sheet, she dropped it and began to draw on her underwear.
Jackson kept his expression neutral. Whoever she was, she was strong. And had quite a temper. The mystery of who she was and what she was doing there would have to wait. “Throw some more clothes into a pillowcase if you don’t have a bag.”
He turned to Deke as she scurried to pack. “Go on down. Have Wiley make contact and get the helo back to the drop site. Let them know we have one prisoner.” A huff sounded behind him, but he didn’t acknowledge it with even a pause. “Make sure the team has finished the search.”
Deke nodded then cast a glance beyond Jackson. “Commander Martir’s not gonna be happy. He wanted to keep this simple.”
Jackson shook his head. “She’s my headache.”
“I’m not anyone’s problem,” the woman said, stepping in front of him with a bulging pillowcase.
He glanced back at the dresser top. The rings were missing from the tray.
“They’re mine,” she said, defiance flashing in her eyes. “They’re the least Alejandro owes me.”
“I’ll take your word for it, ma’am.”
“Stop with the ma’am. You’ve already seen me in my birthday suit. My name’s Suri McAnally. Now, are you getting me the hell out of here?”
Suri wasn’t sure where the courage came from to bitch at her new captor. The moment she’d heard the stealthy footsteps enter her bedroom, she’d been terrified someone other than Alejandro had returned to molest her. Maybe an hour earlier, she’d known from the sounds of running footsteps and shouts coming from the courtyard followed by tires screeching away, that she’d been left behind to an uncertain fate.
When Jackson Keller had parted the curtains around the bed, she’d nearly peed herself she’d been so scared. A large dark shadow with the even more ominous outline of a large gun, and she’d been sure she was toast. What had precipitated the evacuation of the estate was a mystery. That she’d been the guest of someone dangerous had been apparent from the moment Alejandro drove her through the
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