Taken Hostage by Ranae Rose Page B

had
much bigger worries at the moment.
    ‘You seem like a fun girl,’ Rolando
breathed.
    Tiffany recoiled, holding her breath against
the stench of his. Maybe he’d been camping out in the ‘damned
swampy woods’. He certainly didn’t smell as if he’d bathed or
brushed his teeth recently.
    ‘Don’t touch me,’ she said with as much
sternness as she could muster as he placed a hand on her hip.
    ‘Aw, we’ve got plenty of time – it’ll take
him at least twenty minutes to come back with the money,’ Rolando
said, his face splitting into a devious grin.
    Money.
    So that was it. But why would James have
money stashed in the Mississippi backwoods? And who was this
Rolando creep? Apparently, James’ criminal plans and history
reached farther than he had revealed. A pang of betrayal pierced
Tiffany’s heart. Partner? Had she really believed James when he’d
called her that back in the woods? Yes, she had. A fresh wave of
heat flooded her cheeks as she contemplated her idiocy.
    ‘Don’t be that way baby,’ Rolando crooned
when Tiffany hit his groping hand away from her breasts. ‘Not after
I saw what you were doing with James.’
    Tiffany wrinkled her nose in distaste. Was
this all James had really intended for her, a fling as a whore for
a pair of criminals? A stinging pressure welled against the back of
her eyeballs, and her face flushed anew with embarrassment. He’d
seemed so sincere when he’d kissed her among the pine trees and
stroked her face as he’d told her of his past. But he hadn’t told
her all of it. What he’d revealed was apparently only the tip of
the iceberg, if it was even true at all. She felt like a fool. This
was what she got for being impulsive and impractical. Agreeing to
go with James was the only time she’d ever let herself be either of
those things, and it’d blown up spectacularly in her face.
    Rolando’s hand snaked up the front of her
blouse as she berated herself, and he squeezed one her breasts,
calling her rudely back to the present.
    A dual surge of fear and indignant rage
flooded through Tiffany, and she drew back her fist to strike
Rolando as hard as she could across the bridge of his nose,
releasing the anger and frustration she felt in one blow.
    He rapidly withdrew his hand and pressed it
to his nose, grimacing. Half a moment later his hands shot out
unexpectedly, grasping her wrists and pinning them against the
seat. ‘What’d you do that for?’ he demanded. ‘Did James hurt you?’
His voice softened a little, but the effect was ruined by the eager
grin that curved his mouth. ‘Well, I won’t. I promise to be gentle
with you and give you a good time…’
    She jerked her right knee upward, driving it
hard into his crotch.
    He groaned in agony and pressed his hands
between his legs, letting his head fall into Tiffany’s lap. She
began wiggling in an attempt to get out from under him, but froze
as a sudden flash of movement caught her eye.
    A car was speeding down the lonely highway –
a police cruiser. She stared in disbelief while the car slowed, as
if the officer inside had sensed her gaze. When Rolando finally
worked up the will to raise his head from her lap, he saw it and
groaned again.
    The police cruiser pulled up behind the
Saturn in the gravel turnaround and an officer emerged within
moments. He walked straight-backed toward the Saturn, his eyes
invisible behind the dark aviator-style sunglasses that police
officers everywhere seemed fond of. Tiffany could feel his gaze on
her through the Saturn’s back window anyway.
    The officer had to bend at the waist to peer
into the back seat at Rolando and Tiffany. Rolando still wore a
half-grimace, and his face had gone pale beneath a light sheen of
sweat. He was the picture of guilt, and Tiffany was horribly aware
of the fact. ‘You all right, miss?’ the cop asked, peering past
Rolando at Tiffany. Of average height and build, he spoke with a
southern drawl that marked him as a Mississippi