Page 75 of Shadowed Agenda
“It feels like I’ve been on a week-long bender.” Regan remembered swallowing a couple of painkillers Beard had given her. She didn’t want to think of how she’d feel once they wore off. “What are we doing back in the woods?”
“Different woods, Peanut,” Beard said. “You fell asleep during the ride here.”
“I slept on a motorcycle?” Regan pushed his hands away. Her body felt like one enormous bruise, but she could stand on her own.
Beard laughed and handed her a water bottle. “Like a baby. I handcuffed you to me so you wouldn’t fall off the bike. Only take a couple of small sips.”
“I don’t suppose you’re going to leave me in the woods, and I can make my way back to civilization?” Regan handed the water bottle back to him.
“I wish I could, Peanut,” he chuckled again. “You grow on a man pretty quick.”
“I get it. Contract. Code. Honor. Those sorts of things,” she said.
“Yeah.” He nodded grimly.
Regan would have rolled her eyes, but it would have aggravated her massive headache.
He’d missed her sarcasm completely.
Beard didn’t want to hand her over to whoever had orchestrated this whole affair because she was likely to be killed, but he wouldn’t help her. Regan didn’t know what to make of Beard. He was a contradiction.
“Damn pity. I think you and I would have gotten along just fine,” Beard said and pointed to a duffle bag on the ground. “You need to get changed.”
“Out here?”
“Best place I could find.”
“You’re not serious?” Regan was not stripping and getting into the clothes in the duffle bag.
“You either dress yourself, or I help.” Beard planted his hands on his hips, and the corner of his mouth curled up. “I would love to help.”
“Turn around.” Regan made a circle with her index finger.
Beard didn’t move. He smiled and crossed his arms.
Regan bent down and opened the duffle bag. There was a complete change of clothes. Her clothes. Someone had entered her hotel suite and packed the baby blue sleeveless dress she’d hung in the wardrobe. They’d even packed her gauzy white shawl and sandals. Her purse had been thrown on top.
“When did you have time to pick up my clothes?” Regan asked and turned her back to Beard.
“They were in the car’s trunk. You were supposed to change in the car. I had to improvise.”
She undid the buttons on her blouse. There wouldn’t have been much time to pick up her clothes and drop them off with Bob. Emmeline’s kidnappers wouldn’t have discovered she’d pulled on jeans and sneakers until she arrived at the LinkNYC kiosk.
Isla.
She’d seen Regan leave her hotel suite. It was the only explanation.
Regan tossed her blouse on the ground and tugged down her jeans. She threw them beside the blouse and bent to pull her dress out of the duffel bag.
“Even with all those bruises, you are one pretty sight, Peanut,” Beard growled.
She shook her head. She could play the guy, but it wouldn’t end how she wanted. Beard was committed to fulfilling his contract. Sex with him would only make her late. Regan didn’t want to show up at all.
She unzipped the dress and pulled it over her head. She took off her sneakers and socks. Her white sandals were going to be ruined walking through the forest. Regan couldn’t help grinning at the absurdity of the thought. They were going to kill her. The condition of her shoes wouldn’t be a make-or-break point for them.
Beard stuffed her shoes and socks in the duffle as she buckled the ankle straps on the sandals and threw the shawl around her shoulders. It covered the red bruising on her arms. The dress fell above her ankles and hid her legs. She rummaged through her purse for the small pack of baby wipes she kept in the bag. It was a mom staple.
Regan couldn’t let herself think of Emmeline. Beard would have to carry her kicking and screaming to the private book signing if she did. Her effort was better spent on trying to escape. She had to warn Mrs. Aster that she was in danger.