yanked at the cuffs. “You could have just talked to me or bought me a beer, this is way too elaborate and quite honestly it’s freaky.”
He stood and rubbed his hand over his dragon tattoo. “You think this is because I fancy you?” he asked through a frown.
“Isn’t it?”
“Hell no.” His face hardened. “Of course it isn’t.” He moved to a rickety table. “Want a drink?”
“Yes.”
He reached for a bottle of water and tipped it to my lips. I swallowed.
“This,” he said, “is about your father. Your father and my best mate, who just happens to be British.” He sat back down next to me.
“But…but, who… Do they know each other?”
“They do now, well, not personally, but your dear daddy received an email last night telling him his daughter would only be returned if James Hill got unwavering support from the British government.” He shrugged. “As well a generous fund for a human rights lawyer of course.”
“What?” Confusion washed through me.
He flicked his brows up. “I’d say James’ name has been swirling around your father’s head like yabbies in a creek for the last few hours.”
“Slow down, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Crabs, creeks?” My mind was whirring, this was blackmail and I was the hostage. “And what do you mean support from the government, human rights lawyer?”
“James was wrongly accused of drug smuggling in Thailand last year.” He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s up for the death sentence.” His eyes opened and he looked straight at me. “I’m desperate, taking you was the only thing I could think of to get his case attention and get the money to pay for a damn good lawyer.”
“But maybe…” I pulled at the cuffs. The headboard rattled against the wall. “If you’d just spoken to me”
“Oh yeah, like someone all pretty and cute with a father who can do anything to make her world right would listen to my troubles?”
“You could have tried, I—”
A sudden dart of movement in the corner caught my attention. I looked over. My heart lurched. I screamed.
“What?” He spun around.
I rammed my knees into my chest to make myself into a ball. “Snake!”
But before the word had left my mouth, the snake was dead. He’d pulled a short, thick knife from his boot, flung it across the room and sliced the creature just below its head, pinning it to the floor.
“Bloody hell,” I gasped. “What are you, Crocodile Dundee or something?”
He shrugged. “Me and James spent some time in the outback.”
“Thank god, I have a real phobia of snakes.”
“I don’t like to kill things, but if I have to I will…” He reached forward again and his fingertips pressed into the hollow of my throat. They headed lower, over my sternum toward my cleavage. “I’d hate to kill you though, Penny. You really are exquisite.”
I pulled in a hot breath and looked at his eyes. They clouded over as he watched his hand move down my body. I wasn’t sure if he was still thinking about his incarcerated buddy or if it was lust causing his eyes to become glazed. The crazy thing was, I’d been obsessing about this man touching me for days, I just never thought it would be this way. Me chained to a bed, dead snake in the corner and my poor father frantic with worry.
His big fingers tickled under the soft material of my bikini top, brushed over the tip of my nipple and cupped the slight underside of my breast. My mouth opened, full of protests, questions… This was so wrong. But I stayed silent, unable to speak for fear of breaking the delicious darts of white-hot electricity searing across my chest and heading straight for my clit. His hand was so big, so gentle. Warm but with a small callous over the pad of his palm.
“I have to go,” he said, suddenly standing.
“Where?” I gulped in a breath.
“I’m not a rapist.” He took several hasty steps backward.
“No, but you are a
He stood and rubbed his hand over his dragon tattoo. “You think this is because I fancy you?” he asked through a frown.
“Isn’t it?”
“Hell no.” His face hardened. “Of course it isn’t.” He moved to a rickety table. “Want a drink?”
“Yes.”
He reached for a bottle of water and tipped it to my lips. I swallowed.
“This,” he said, “is about your father. Your father and my best mate, who just happens to be British.” He sat back down next to me.
“But…but, who… Do they know each other?”
“They do now, well, not personally, but your dear daddy received an email last night telling him his daughter would only be returned if James Hill got unwavering support from the British government.” He shrugged. “As well a generous fund for a human rights lawyer of course.”
“What?” Confusion washed through me.
He flicked his brows up. “I’d say James’ name has been swirling around your father’s head like yabbies in a creek for the last few hours.”
“Slow down, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Crabs, creeks?” My mind was whirring, this was blackmail and I was the hostage. “And what do you mean support from the government, human rights lawyer?”
“James was wrongly accused of drug smuggling in Thailand last year.” He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s up for the death sentence.” His eyes opened and he looked straight at me. “I’m desperate, taking you was the only thing I could think of to get his case attention and get the money to pay for a damn good lawyer.”
“But maybe…” I pulled at the cuffs. The headboard rattled against the wall. “If you’d just spoken to me”
“Oh yeah, like someone all pretty and cute with a father who can do anything to make her world right would listen to my troubles?”
“You could have tried, I—”
A sudden dart of movement in the corner caught my attention. I looked over. My heart lurched. I screamed.
“What?” He spun around.
I rammed my knees into my chest to make myself into a ball. “Snake!”
But before the word had left my mouth, the snake was dead. He’d pulled a short, thick knife from his boot, flung it across the room and sliced the creature just below its head, pinning it to the floor.
“Bloody hell,” I gasped. “What are you, Crocodile Dundee or something?”
He shrugged. “Me and James spent some time in the outback.”
“Thank god, I have a real phobia of snakes.”
“I don’t like to kill things, but if I have to I will…” He reached forward again and his fingertips pressed into the hollow of my throat. They headed lower, over my sternum toward my cleavage. “I’d hate to kill you though, Penny. You really are exquisite.”
I pulled in a hot breath and looked at his eyes. They clouded over as he watched his hand move down my body. I wasn’t sure if he was still thinking about his incarcerated buddy or if it was lust causing his eyes to become glazed. The crazy thing was, I’d been obsessing about this man touching me for days, I just never thought it would be this way. Me chained to a bed, dead snake in the corner and my poor father frantic with worry.
His big fingers tickled under the soft material of my bikini top, brushed over the tip of my nipple and cupped the slight underside of my breast. My mouth opened, full of protests, questions… This was so wrong. But I stayed silent, unable to speak for fear of breaking the delicious darts of white-hot electricity searing across my chest and heading straight for my clit. His hand was so big, so gentle. Warm but with a small callous over the pad of his palm.
“I have to go,” he said, suddenly standing.
“Where?” I gulped in a breath.
“I’m not a rapist.” He took several hasty steps backward.
“No, but you are a
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