Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,124

bust the rungs? It wasn’t like she had anything else to concentrate on. Other than what Sergei had told her about Perry and that was certainly something she didn’t want to revisit right now. She was too raw. Her feelings churned under the surface. Any provocation would stir them up into tidal waves she couldn’t surf at the moment.

Swinging her legs up, she used the ropes as leverage and the strength of her abs in a way a gymnast would on parallel bars, and kicked at the rails above her.

Shit, that hurt.

Her feet stung with the impact of ramming them into the log rail. She kept at it, though, encouraged by the sound of a crack. A few more non-enjoyable head-banging incidents against the headboard, and she splintered the top rung above her.

It tumbled down on top of her, nailing her upper torso.

Oh, yeah, that would leave a bruise.

She wished she could curl into a ball as pain radiated through her upper body. Out of breath and sweating, she took a few minutes to lie there, compartmentalizing the impact before bucking her body and dislodging the wood laying across her ribs. It crashed onto the floor and echoed throughout the lodge. Good thing Sergei wasn’t here, because the racket would have brought him running.

One down. The side rungs would be a bitch as she had to kick out at an angle. Grunting with the exertion, she lashed out to the right. She didn’t give up as her muscles ached and burned. Finally, she knocked it loose. Luckily this one didn’t land on her, but it took out the bedside lamp—killing it—and shredding the pile of books Sergei had stacked, littering them across the floor, and denting the wall before coming to a final stop.

The momentum slid the rope up the post a few inches, and she was able to get her knees under her. She inched her body back toward the headboard, nudging the pillows out of her way. The action stirred up Sergei’s scent, and she found herself suddenly sexually frustrated all over again.

Oh, that man was going to pay. And he would pay hard.

With thoughts of tying him up and torturing him, Kate slowly shuffled the ropes up the thick log posts, and struggled to her feet. The logs towered a good five feet above her, but if she could get enough of the rope to shimmy up the posts, she’d be able to toss them off. Thank goodness he hadn’t tied the rope tighter around them, just made sure he’d tied them fucking tight around her torn and bleeding wrists. That was the least of her worries, not with freedom within her sights.

The strain and pull on her shoulders burned.

Flipping her arm up and rotating it just right in the joint, she was able to slowly gain distance up the post. She worked on doing the same to the other arm. Repeating the action, she kept up the steps, gaining inches and then a foot, only to have the rope fall back down and have to start it again.

But it was working.

Sweat dribbled down her forehead, her hair was heavy and hot around her, creating a sort of blanket.

When she had the rope at the top, she held her breath, edging it over the log post, gasping when it actually came loose. Her arm fell, and she cursed Sergei’s name as blood rushed into the limb with relief.

She couldn’t believe she’d succeed. She’d refused to hope, and the release of not having her arm pulled, washed over her. She took a minute to baby her arm next to her body, cradling it, before turning toward her other arm, busting the rail free of the post, and easing the rope over the top.

Yeah, that one was considerably easier.

Guess, they didn’t make furniture like they used to, or at least, not furniture that could withstand Kate “No Mercy” Mercer.

She collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavy with a satisfied smile. The lengths of rope were still tied to her wrists, but she was free. After a few minutes of rest, she sat up and struggled with the complicated knots.

Where was a knife when she needed one? What the hell kind of knot had Sergei tied?

He’d made it seem so easy as he’d tethered her into place. She studied how he’d secured the rope, hoping to remember how he did it, so she could use his technique herself some day if needed.

Finally, she had the bindings undone. Gathering the ropes, she