“I would have appreciated bedding you one more time. Unfortunately, we’re nearly out of time.” He looked at his watch. “Your lover has four minutes left.”
“He won’t come.” But she knew Jake would come for her.
“Yes, he will.” Never taking his eyes from hers, Rasmussen pushed open the door. “Donovan.”
One of the men appeared in the hall. Leigh watched as a silent communication passed between them, then Donovan removed handcuffs from the pocket of his coat.
“Put them on her.” Rasmussen snapped his fingers and the second man appeared. “Vanderpol will be here in about three minutes. I want you to go out to the lake. Take the chain saw. Cut a hole in the ice.” His gaze flicked to Leigh. “Make it large enough for a human body to pass through. Take the rifle with you. I’ll meet you there.”
“Yes, sir.” The man hustled away.
The first man limped toward her, cuffs in hand. When she saw his pale eyes, his pock-marked and angular face and long black hair pulled into a ponytail, she recognized him as the man who’d accosted her in the motel the day she’d left Denver. The man she’d stabbed in the calf.
“I’m going to enjoy seeing you die,” he said quietly.
Terrified, she shoved past Rasmussen and ran toward the door.
“Stop her!” Rasmussen shouted.
Somehow she made it through the door. Ran blindly down the hall. Into the living room. She heard footsteps and shouting behind her as she careered toward the front door. Arms outstretched she hit the door, slammed her hand against the lock.
Then a pair of strong arms grabbed hold of her. She lashed out with her feet as he swung her around. The next thing she knew she was being flung to the floor. She fought madly, but the man overpowered her, rolling her onto her stomach. She felt her hands being jerked behind her, the cuffs clicking into place.
Jake, she thought, and her screams turned to sobs.
Chapter Eighteen
The snowmobile roared over the snow at a death-defying speed. Trees blurred by. Jake hadn’t bothered with a helmet, and the wind and snow were stinging his eyes. But the physical discomforts were nothing compared to the horrors inside his head.
Rasmussen had Leigh. He was depraved. Had been in prison for six years. And he was capable of extreme violence.
The lights of the cabin loomed into view. He smelled wood smoke from the fire in the hearth. Though the visibility was poor because of the falling snow, he was still able to make out three snowmobiles parked half a mile from the driveway. He drew closer to the cabin. He was within rifle range now. He could feel the eyes watching him through the crosshairs.
He parked the snowmobile fifty yards from the cabin and killed the engine. A stark and eerie silence filled his ears. Raising his hands to shoulder level, he started toward the cabin. He watched for movement, any sign of life, but saw nothing.
Twenty yards from the front door he stopped, the pistol he’d tucked into his waistband pressing reassuringly against his back. “Rasmussen!” he shouted. “I’m here! Come get me!”
No answer.
Jake’s heart began to hammer.
The cabin was deserted, he realized, and broke into a run toward the front door. Five yards out he spotted blood in the snow, and he went wild. All he could think was that they’d hurt Leigh. He dashed to the front door and burst into the cabin.
“Leigh!” he yelled. “Leigh!”
The only answer was the whistle of wind through the trees. The tinkle of snow against the windows. And the thrum of his own terror.
THE SNOWFALL WAS SO HEAVY Leigh couldn’t see more than a few yards ahead. Rasmussen gripped her right arm. The thug with the limp walked beside her to her left. Twice she’d broken free and tried to run. Twice, hindered by the handcuffs, she’d been caught before getting more than a few yards.
They were on the lake and had been walking for ten minutes. All around the lake stretched like a vast frozen plain of endless white.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked Rasmussen. “Why didn’t you just flee while you could?”
He stopped and gave her his full attention. “Because I have a reputation to maintain.”
“Reputation?”
“You made a laughingstock of me, my love. You committed the ultimate sin when you betrayed me. No one betrays Ian Rasmussen and lives to tell about it. Especially a woman.”
She cringed when he raised his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “Don’t think for a minute this is easy for me,” he said. “I loved you.”
This man had absolutely no idea what love was.
He leaned close to kiss her, but Leigh turned her head. “Don’t,” she said.
Rasmussen stepped back, his expression as cold and hard as the ice beneath her feet. “In a few minutes, my darling, you’ll be begging me to forgive you.”