Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,125
eased off the bed, her muscles sore and stiff, and opened the grate to the fire, tossing them into the flames.
There, that was better.
The flames greedily attacked the nylon rope, melting them more than burning. The acrid smell assaulted the room, and she huffed a breath of satisfaction.
Tie her up again, would he?
She headed toward the bathroom to clean up. There wasn’t a lot of time. And there was lots to do before Sergei returned.
She glanced out the window facing the mountains and the direction he would have taken.
All she saw was snow.
A pang of worry burrowed its way into her heart.
Sergei struggled up the last incline. There was the site. Kate had done an excellent job hiding her tracks, but there weren’t many who could hide from him. He had a way of sniffing people out. A sixth sense that his father and grandfather had possessed too. He doubted that anyone would have found where Kate had made camp with how she’d chosen to hide. He found her supplies tucked under the branches of a spruce. Just a little duffel. He liked a woman who packed light. Holding his flashlight in his mouth, Sergei opened the backpack and emptied the contents. Tent, satellite phone, MREs, a few more knives—what a woman—rope, fishing hooks and twine, and a change of clothes.
Those he needed to dispose of. He liked her naked.
He emptied everything, and then tore off his gloves to feel the seams of the pack. It took him a while, but he found another tracking device sewn into the bottom. It was very well hidden, and he’d missed it during the first and second search. He would have given up if he hadn’t been positive that another existed. Flipping out his switchblade to cut it free, he paused.
Who was coming for her and when?
Snow began falling in serious flakes. He looked around, his eyes sweeping his surroundings. He needed to head back or make shelter. The storm was going to snow them in and keep whoever was coming off The Edge.
Unless they were already here.
He gathered everything and stuffed it all back into the duffel. Swinging it onto his shoulders, he headed back down the mountain.
Tied to his bed, Kate was in a vulnerable position, and she had a lot of questions to answer.
Kate cleaned up her wrists, grabbed her underwear that she’d washed earlier, and slipped them on. Feeling much more covered with that little bit of fabric, she found the jeans Sergei had stripped off her flung into a corner. She yanked them back on along with the socks. Her bra was ruined. Sergei would have to pay for that. She’d loved that bra. She slipped into one of Sergei’s flannel shirts she rummaged from a drawer. This one had a blue and black checkered pattern. It was soft and roomy and smelled like him. She hated that she wanted to snuggle into it.
Did she really care more for this man than just wanting him dead?
A twinge she didn’t want to investigate centered around her heart at the thought of him actually dead. She glanced back to the window and the white-out conditions. How much longer would he be?
She shook her head as though to rearrange her scrambled thoughts back into their rightful slots. Why did she care?
Could he be right about Perry? Had her partner set them both up?
She rubbed her hands over her face, twisted her hair into a loose knot and secured it with two pencils she’d located in the small desk by the window. Then she got down to business.
She searched the room, starting with the rest of the desk. There was nothing of consequence. No computer, hidden documents, weapons. Other than the pencils she’d already helped herself to.
She moved on.
She did a full sweep of the room. Nothing. Just clothes, blankets, towels. Nothing personal other than the books that she’d done a good job of destroying. She didn’t bother with the bathroom since she’d already been through it once. She left the room and did a quick exploring of the upstairs. Much as she figured, there wasn’t anything. The rooms were obviously used for paying guests.
She headed down the stairs on quick, quiet feet, keeping her ears tuned to any changes within the log building. The wind whistled outside, and snow spit at the windows. She couldn’t see anything out of them with the blizzard.
He’d been gone a while now. Should she...?
Oh my hell, you are not going out there looking for him.