Beverly Long

Agent Bride


Скачать книгу

had a bad dream,” she said.

      “You think?” he asked, his tone tense. His big body hovered over her, his weight off her but his presence immense.

      While bedcovers and layers of clothes separated them, their closeness was suddenly intensely intimate. And disconcerting as hell to go from something horrible, like her dream, to something that offered a promise of being good, very good.

      Breathe, she told herself.

      “I think you scared ten years off my life,” he said, his tone a little easier now.

      “Sorry,” she murmured.

      He moved fast, swinging one leg over so that he was kneeling beside her. His hazel eyes looked troubled. “Want to talk about it?”

      Could she? Could she go back to that dark place? Could she pretend that it had just been an oddly disturbing dream?

      Could she trust this man who had barged into her room and taken up more than his share of the bed?

      He’d saved her life.

      Had doubled back to let her know about the men looking for her. She looked at him closer. He had a red mark on his face. He hadn’t had it the night before. “What happened there?” she asked, already suspecting the truth.

      “You’ve got a strong right hook,” he said nonchalantly. “Unfortunately, you popped me one at about the same time you started screaming. It was a bit disconcerting for a minute.”

      Someone with less control might have killed her by mistake in response.

      “I was lying on a bed,” she said. “It was narrow, more like a cot.”

      He nodded.

      “I wanted to get up, knew I needed to get away. But my wrists were tied to the bed frame. I pulled and pulled but it was no use.”

      “Who tied you there?” he asked.

      She shook her head. “I don’t know. It...it looked like a ghost. All white.”

      He didn’t say anything.

      “I know, crazy, right?” she said.

      “Nope. Did the ghost talk to you?”

      She thought for a minute. He had. She knew that. Couldn’t remember what he’d said. “I’m not sure.”

      “What else do you remember?”

      She pointed to the garbage can in the corner. “That was hanging in the corner of the room.”

      “The wedding dress?” he asked.

      “Yes.” She’d been scared of the dress but she could hardly admit that. There was something else and she tried desperately to recall it but it was out of her reach.

      “Do you remember anything else?”

      “I was sick. The ghost made me so sick.”

      He seemed to consider that. “You were screaming when you woke up. Why?”

      “The ghost had come in and something bad was going to happen.”

      “What?”

      “I don’t know. But it was bad. I started screaming. And then...I guess I woke up.”

      He seemed to consider his words. “You have marks on your wrists,” he said. “Like you’ve been restrained.”

      He was pointing out the obvious. She could ignore it, dismiss it. Or she could take the risk, leave herself absolutely exposed. If she didn’t, she’d be all alone. “So you’re saying that maybe it wasn’t just a dream?”

      “You tell me,” he said, his voice intense.

      She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure where to start.”

      “Maybe at the beginning.”

      Wouldn’t that be nice? “Well, that was sometime before I met you. How long before, I’m not quite sure.”

      “That’s a little confusing,” he said.

      She sat up in bed and pushed a hand through her tangled hair. “I’m in trouble. I don’t know why but I am. The problem is, I don’t think I can get myself out of it.”

      “Because?”

      “Because I don’t know what went wrong. I don’t know who else is involved. I don’t know how big this is but something tells me it’s big. Really big. And that terrifies me. I don’t know who the bad guys are. I don’t know what they want.” She took a breath.

      “Okay. Anything else you don’t know?”

      She nodded. This was the hardest part. “When I looked in the mirror yesterday, I didn’t recognize myself. Not because my hair was different or anything dumb like that. I didn’t know who the woman in the mirror was.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t even know who I am.”

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABQAAD/4QNxaHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0i aHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1w PSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bXBNTTpPcmlnaW5hbERvY3VtZW50SUQ9 InhtcC5kaWQ6QTk1OEJFRUZENTIwNjgxMTkyQjA5MTc2Q0VCRjFFQUUiIHhtcE1NOkRvY3VtZW50 SUQ9InhtcC5kaWQ6OUY5Njk5QzdGMDFBMTFFNThGRUQ5Q0IwNzY5NjU4REMiIHhtcE1NOkluc3Rh bmNlSUQ9InhtcC5paWQ6OUY5Njk5QzZGMDFBMTFFNThGRUQ5Q0IwNzY5NjU4REMiIHhtcDpDcmVh dG9yVG9vbD0iQWRvYmUgUGhvdG9zaG9wIENTNS4xIE1hY2ludG9zaCI+IDx4bXBNTTpEZXJpdmVk RnJvbSBzdFJlZjppbnN0YW5jZUlEPSJ4bXAuaWlkOjUwMUM0QkZBRDUyMDY4MTE5MkIwOTE3NkNF QkYxRUFFIiBzdFJlZjpkb2N1bWVudElEPSJ4bXAuZGlkOkE5NThCRUVGRDUyMDY4MTE5MkIwOTE3 NkNFQkYxRUFFIi8+IDwvcmRmOkRlc2NyaXB0aW9uPiA8L3JkZjpSREY+IDwveDp4bXBtZXRhPiA8 P3hwYWNrZXQgZW5kPSJyIj8+/+IMWElDQ19QUk9GSUxFAAEBAAAMSExpbm8CEAAAbW50clJHQiBY WVogB84AAgAJAAYAMQAAYWNzcE1TRlQAAAAASUVDIHNSR0IAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPbWAAEAAAAA 0y1IUCAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARY3By dAAAAVAAAAAzZGVzYwAAAYQAAABsd3RwdAAAAfAAAAAUYmtwdAAAAgQAAAAUclhZWgAAAhgAAAAU Z1hZWgAAAiwAAAAUYlhZWgAAAkAAAAAUZG1uZAAAAlQAAABwZG1kZAAAAsQAAACIdnVlZAAAA0wA AACGdmlldwAAA9QAAAAkbHVtaQAAA/gAAAAUbWVhcwAABAwAAAAkdGVjaAAABDAAAAAMclRSQwAA BDwAAAgMZ1RSQwAABDwAAAgMYlRSQwAABDwAAAgMdGV4dAAAAABDb3B5cmlnaHQgKGMpIDE5OTgg SGV3bGV0dC1QYWNrYXJkIENvbXBhbnkAAGRlc2MAAAAAAAAAEnNSR0IgSUVDNjE5NjYtMi4xAAAA AAAAAAAAAAASc1JHQiBJRUM2MTk2Ni0yLjEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA