Page 10 of A Rogue to Watch Over Me
Or he will choke the life out of me.
Raw instinct flooded her veins. She had to fight. Had to get away.
“Perhaps I do remember something,” she said, hoping the brute might believe her and let down his guard.
“That’s better. Now start talking.”
“He told me...” she said, leading him on as she shifted on her feet. With luck, he would not realize the subtle movement had a purpose. Years earlier, her brother had taught her a lesson in defending herself against an overly determined suitor. Or an attacker.
“Tell me,” he demanded against her ear.
“There is a certain place . . .”
She pulled in a low breath. Summoning all the force she could muster, she stomped her foot down onto his boot. Her heel plowed into his instep.
As he let out a groan of pain, his hold eased. She jerked away, bolting for the door. Her fingers closed around the knob.
His large hands clamped down on her shoulders, holding her with a vise-like strength. Dragging her to him, he stared down ather. “That was a mistake.” His tone was cold. “The diamond—I know it’s here.”
A bitter truth crashed over her. If this brute did not care that she saw his pale, broad features, he had no intention of letting her live. She clasped the skeleton key from the door in her hand. Carefully, she hid it against her palm. Not an ideal weapon, but it could inflict pain. And with that, she could buy time. She could find a way to escape.
“I have money,” she murmured with a passiveness she did not feel. “I will give it to you.”
An ugly laugh passed his thin lips. “Save yourself. Tell me where he hid it.”
“I cannot tell you what I do not know.”
“Where is the bloody treasure? Tell me.” He bit the command between his teeth. “Before I choke the breath out of you and tear this place apart. Board by board.”
The anger in his voice fueled the desperate fear deep within her.
Fight the cur!
She pulled in a breath and called upon a strength she’d never known she possessed. Wildly, she struggled against his hold. Still, it wasn’t enough. His fingers dug into her upper arms, pinning her. She had to free herself. With a sharp twist of her body, she drove an elbow into his side. His low, pain-filled grunt told her she’d hit his ribs.
His breaths came fast and ragged. “You little shrew!”
With another sudden, violent motion, she wrenched her arm free. Careful to conceal the key in her hand, she eyed his face, steeling herself against a wave of revulsion.
“You will regret that.” He reared back, raising his thick hand.
Now!
She struck his face, the slim metal key plunging into his left eye. Agony turned his voice raw as he cried out, instinctively releasing his hold on her other arm.
Run! Can’t be trapped here!
Amelia darted to the door.
Heavy footfalls of pursuit sounded in her ears. Thick fingers grazed her back. Still, she evaded his grasp.
Suddenly, his hand clamped over her upper arm. Wild with fear, she searched the room for something—anything—to fend him off.
The bookends.
Fighting wildly against his hold, she strained to reach her desk. Her fingers brushed one of the sturdy metal braces.
Must reach it.
