Chapter One
* * *
Los Angeles, California
Present Day
THE SENSATION WAS back. The one that crawled over her skin like a tiny troupe of marching ants and set up house in the pit of her stomach. Rayna Dugan had no patience for portents or intuition, and she wasn’t about to give this… this feeling any credibility. The tension that had jumbled her nerves into one gigantic ball of apprehension all afternoon would not get the best of her.
She stepped into her small apartment, closed the door behind her, and tossed her packages and books on the closest chair. What a day. Whose idea was it to sign up for five classes her first term back at UCLA? And Speech? Really… just shoot me now!
To top everything off, she’d let her friend, Vivian, talk her into a night out on the town. Rayna had regretted it the moment the words were out of her mouth. First, she’d had to shop for something appropriate to wear, so now that she’d arrived home, she didn’t even have time to grab a bite to eat. She had only thirty minutes to change in order to meet Vivian at a pub across campus.
Rayna dropped her keys on the counter that served as her dining area, grabbed the bag with her purchases, and strode to the bedroom. There was no getting out of it now, so she might as well put on her happy face. She set her jaw determinedly as she removed the day’s apparel and slipped into her new black dress and stockings, grateful she’d donned her black bra and panties this morning. The snug-fitting dress hugged her in all the right places, flared slightly at the waist, and ended abruptly at mid-thigh. Long, lacy sleeves wrapped her arms in elegance from shoulder to palm. A satisfied smile hitched the corners of her mouth as she stepped into four-inch heels and rotated slowly in front of the mirror.
She should be looking forward to a night of fun. What was wrong with her? It wasn’t every day she splurged for a new dress. Her favorite shoes caressed her feet and made them appear at least two sizes smaller than they actually were. She cleaned up pretty good for a cash-strapped, nerdy college student who’d spent every waking moment of the last six weeks with her face in a book. Tonight should be a welcome break—so why was the idea of going out where she might actually meet some new people raising her anxiety level into the danger zone?
The fabric swirled just above her knees as she turned in place, and the soft swish brought back memories of a time when she always dressed to flaunt her long legs and slender figure. Even at the relatively young age of twenty-three, it seemed like a lifetime ago—before Charlie was killed.
The foundation of her life had crumbled that day. A familiar longing tugged at her heart. God, she missed him. Add her nostalgia for a home that wasn’t even hers and the dull ache she experienced whenever she thought about Ty, and it was no wonder she was struggling to fit in at UCLA, where almost everyone she knew lived to party.
She drew herself up straight and squared her shoulders. It would do her good to feel sexy for a change.
Her recently cut shoulder-length blond locks curled Shirley Temple–like next to her cheeks and left a lot of skin exposed around the neckline of her dress. Too much? Had she crossed the line from sexy to slutty?
Maybe she should change.
Don’t even go there. It had been hard leaving everything she knew behind and starting over, but she’d accomplished that much. Whether she was happy with the choices she’d made or not, for the first time in her life, she had no one to answer to.
She’d softened the harsh peroxide blond she’d adopted after Charlie died, choosing a softer, golden blond instead—the color of summer wheat. She ran her hands through her hair for the windblown effect, drew a tube of passion plum gloss over her lips, and stared down her reflection.
Graduating from college and going on to medical school had been her brother’s dream for her. It used to be hers, too, until he died. Rayna had dropped out of school and sought out Joe Reynolds in Kalispell, Montana. Joe had been like a brother to her from the time Charlie introduced them when they both returned from Afghanistan. For the last year, Joe had been the one to protect her when she got in over her head, and he would never have considered withholding a thorough dressing-down when she messed up. She loved him for that… and so much more.
Joe led a small team of highly trained men and women and contracted with U.S. government agencies for missions they were uniquely suited for. In his spare time, he trained people in the practical art of self-defense and survival. For nearly a year, she’d soaked up everything he would teach her. Under his guidance, she’d become an expert sniper and learned to kick ass with the best of them. Talents every red-blooded American girl should have.
Now she thought of Kalispell as home… the people there her family, and she missed them all like crazy, but especially Joe’s wife. Cara was Rayna’s best friend and confidante, and she could really stand to see her about now.
That was the reason she was having trouble adjusting to her new life. Her head was still there in the secluded training facility, with Joe and the rest of his team—and the one man who still held her heart. Ty Whitlock.
She wrinkled her nose and crossed her eyes at her reflection in the mirror, then a self-conscious laugh bubbled free. She’d always considered herself a fairly smart girl, but she’d sure made some dumb choices lately. When fall term was over, though, she’d fix the worst one. She’d make things right with Ty—if he’d listen.
Rayna wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. Their last conversation still rang harshly in her ears, his green eyes rightfully filled with accusation. If only she could have taken back her words after they spewed from her mouth, but it didn’t work that way. His pain and bewilderment haunted her, but worse yet was his stoic acceptance.
After one final inspection, she turned away from the mirror. Tonight, she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t dwell on past mistakes. She was off to a rocky start.
Frowning, she shook her head and tossed her curls into further disarray. A squirt of rose and magnolia fragrance hung in the air for a second before she stepped into the soft mist and let the moisture kiss her throat and shoulders.
Rayna couldn’t shake the feeling this evening’s plan was a mistake. She and Vivian had hit it off immediately on their first day of biology class, but it was obvious her new friend liked to party, leaving her studies to suffer. She’d been after Rayna to join her—to get out and meet people—for weeks. Unfortunately, Vivian had finally caught her in a weak moment.
She glanced up as the doorbell rang. Who could that be? Had Vivian decided to pick her up so Rayna wouldn’t have a chance to change her mind? That would be just like her. Rayna slipped into her sweater, grabbed her purse, and crossed the two-room apartment to the door.
Hand on the knob, she stopped and peered through the peephole. At first, she didn’t see anyone, but as she continued to stare, a man, dressed in black, stepped from the hallway to the right and moved closer to the door. He was somewhat familiar, but Rayna couldn’t place him. His unassuming smile exaggerated his dark good looks.
“Who is it?”
“My name is Andre. I live in the building. I am sorry to bother you, but my car will not start and I was hoping to get a jump.” He turned and smiled at the peephole. “You and I are apparently the only people in the building who have not already left for the evening.”
Of course. She’d seen him in the parking lot once or twice recently. He had a nice smile and a delightful accent. Russian?
“I promise you will not get your hands dirty. I will do all the work.” He grinned hopefully.
“Well, sure. I’m not in a big hurry to get where I’m going anyway.” Rayna swung the door open and stepped toward the counter for her keys. “Let’s go.”
His gaze swept over her, and the smile slowly disappeared.
Something in his demeanor made her stop. He hadn’t moved, and the way he stared at her sent a chill snaking down her back.
“Take her.” His words were cold and clipped.
Two black-clad men appeared from either side of the door and surged through the opening. A jolt of fear shot adrenaline through Rayna’s veins and she stumbled back. Suddenly, she wanted as much distance between herself and these creeps as she could get.
“What do you want?” She had nothing worth stealing, and the next-obvious answer made her blood run cold. They wanted her.
Andre stepped across the threshold and closed the door. “Do as you’re told and you will not be hurt.”
Seriously? There was a line right out of a B-grade movie if she’d ever heard one. The dark intensity in his eyes dispelled any remaining doubts of his intent. Reality slammed home. Three thugs had just forced their way into her apartment. Whatever they wanted, it probably wasn’t good.
Finally, the hundreds of hours of training Joe had insisted upon pushed to the forefront of her mind and gave her a sense of confidence. Calm washed over her, momentarily halting her body’s automatic flight response. Her survival could very well depend on what she did in the next few seconds. Three-to-one weren’t insurmountable odds, but two-to-one would be better. She had the skills to do something about that. If they wanted a fight, she’d give them one.
Abruptly, she picked her spot in the center of the small room and stopped retreating. She tossed her purse aside and assumed a defensive stance, legs spread shoulder-width apart, arms bent at the elbows and ready. On autopilot now, she concentrated on the enemy’s movements and forced herself to breathe.
Once she stopped her backward motion, the men eyed her warily. One of them grabbed her arm. She resisted the urge to fling off his hand, waiting for him to step close before she raised her knee with every ounce of strength she possessed and slammed it into his crotch. The air whooshed from him but before he could recover, she jammed her four-inch heel into his instep. He doubled over with a violent curse, and she brought her knee up into his nose. A satisfying crunch preceded a shriek from the man as he hit the floor.
The second stranger was a little slow, but he finally figured out his partner was getting his ass kicked by a girl and rushed forward to lend a hand. Rayna dropped down and caught his ankles with her legs, knocking him down hard. He dragged himself up, still somewhat dazed. She jumped to her feet, kicked one leg high as she swung around in a circle. Her foot struck his jaw with such force his head whipped to the side. He slumped to the floor and didn’t move.
Her gaze swept the room and stopped at Andre as he reached inside his jacket. She didn’t wait to see if he had a gun. Another burst of adrenaline started a dizzying rhythm in her chest. She fled to the bedroom, slammed, and locked the door. Her semiautomatic was here somewhere, smuggled in against the rules. What had she done with it? Was it in one of the boxes she still hadn’t unpacked? Her nightstand? The closet?
The contents of her nightstand drawer spilled onto the floor as she jerked it open a little too hard. No gun. She hadn’t anticipated needing it here. She’d only brought it to appease Joe. Safe to say he wouldn’t be impressed. She climbed over the bed and flung open the closet just as the bedroom door splintered and flew back against the wall.
Stay focused. Where was it? She pawed frantically through the boxes in the closet until Andre’s fingers closed over her shoulder. Jerking away from him, she pulled back and threw the palm of her hand toward his nose. He caught her wrist at the last second and jerked her arm behind her back. She gasped with the stinging pain.
“Fighting is useless. I would rather not hurt you, but I will if you leave me no choice.”
“You bastard!” Anger burned in her chest and blurred her vision with its intensity. What did he want from her? A pinprick of fear made her tremble, but she tamped it down. She couldn’t afford that weakness. Show no fear. That was one lesson she’d learned well. This sleazy goon would live to regret putting his hands on her.
“You American women swear too much.” He pushed her toward the bed and shoved her, face-first, into the chenille-covered down comforter.
She struggled to crawl away from him, but he straddled her legs and twisted her arm higher toward her shoulder blade. The pain tore through her arm and shoulder, and she gritted her teeth to keep from crying out.
“You haven’t seen anything yet, you son of a bitch.”
He put his knee on her arm in the middle of her back while he did something with his hands. She couldn’t see far enough behind her to make out what he was doing. Horror filled her a moment later when he jerked her other arm up, plunged in a needle, and released a burning, stinging liquid beneath her skin.
“No, please…”
“Quiet. This is for your own good. You will see.” He withdrew the needle and tossed it on the bed beside her.
All too quickly, her limited view of the world dissolved into blackness.
RAYNA WOKE WITH a start. Arms and legs bound securely to a chair, she sat helplessly. As the memories flooded back, anger at the way she’d been duped overshadowed even her fear. Those men had attacked her in her apartment. That didn’t sound like a random incident. It was personal. The scumball had drugged her and apparently abducted her. What could they possibly want?
Where was she? They were no longer in her apartment. That much was clear. The room’s rough wooden floor, the dim lighting, and the smell of damp earth gave the place an underground atmosphere. A basement.
Men spoke in low voices somewhere behind her. She strained to hear them but couldn’t make out the words. It was a minute before she realized they were speaking in Russian.
A groan escaped as she straightened her neck, stiff from God knows how long in that position. The voices abruptly cut off, and footsteps approached.
The one called Andre stepped in front of her. His dark brown eyes, black in the fading light, drilled through her. She refused to look away, even when he stepped closer and wiped blood from the corner of her mouth with his thumb.
“You angered my men. They were rougher than necessary.”
“You expect me to apologize for defending myself?”
“I expect you to do exactly as I tell you.” He pulled a chair around in front of her and straddled it.
“It’s safe to assume you don’t need a jump for your car, so would you mind telling me why I’m here?” He was uncomfortably close, and it was all she could do not to pull back. Her heart beat too fast, and she drew a deep breath to calm herself. The last thing she wanted was to let him see how scared she was.
He nodded. “I am aware you had other plans for your evening. I am truly sorry you had to be involved, but it was necessary. Do not worry about your friend, Vivian. She has been notified of your… family emergency and knows you will be away indefinitely. If things go as planned, you will be released unharmed. Either way, you will cause me no further trouble.”
Rayna tossed her head, ignoring the threat in his words. “What do you want from me?”
“You have a friend—Tyler Whitlock.”
She blinked in surprise, then caught herself. “Don’t know him.”
Andre smiled coldly. “Nice try, but I have tracked you ever since you left Kalispell, and I have made it my business to learn all about you and the dangerous people you associate with, including our mutual friend Ty.”
She studied his face. He stared back with deadly earnestness. It was clear he wasn’t bluffing. “What’s your interest in him?”
“I misplaced something. Ty knows how to find it. You will be my guarantee that he will do as I ask.”
“If you think I’ll ask him to help you after this, you’re out of your mind.”
Andre’s gaze swept her face, then he pulled two syringes from his inside coat pocket. “It can always get worse. You have a choice to make.” He held up one of the syringes. “This is the dose I gave you in your apartment. It will make you sleep like a baby for several hours.” He laid them both on a small table beside her and fingered the second syringe. “This one is five times the dose. It causes trembling, seizures, elevated heart rate, pain, and finally, a massive heart attack.”
Rayna struggled to breathe normally. Show no fear. She repeated the words, pretty sure panic was written all over her face.
“Your interests will be best served by helping me, but if you decide not to, I will find another way to gain Ty’s cooperation. Take a few minutes to consider.” Andre smiled, but no warmth reached his eyes. He pushed himself to his feet and walked back the way he’d come, his footsteps receding behind her. The closing of a door echoed in the vacant silence.
If You Only Knew
Dixie Lee Brown's books
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