Checkmate by Doranna Durgin

Author:Doranna Durgin [Durgin, Doranna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Silhouette Bombshell
Published: 2010-07-18T04:00:00+00:00

Hours passed. Selena prevailed upon her Kemeni guards—a new set, as guard shifts changed over for the third time—to escort her to the ladies’ room, giving her the chance to establish she was on her period. It wasn’t a lie that would hold up, but it took some of the eagerness out of their eyes; as men who considered themselves righteous warriors fighting for a righteous cause, they leaned too hard on their spiritual beliefs to casually break the law against being intimate with a woman in her menses. In fact, they’d probably have to perform ablutions before their next Salat just for touching her.

They fed her more of the excess standard MREs—beef chili macaroni, the one that tasted good even cold. Even for breakfast. They allowed her water. She got glimpses of the hostages in the next room as they now occasionally made escorted trips to the facilities and shared rudimentary meals—was once even able to exchange a meaningful glance with Dante Allori—enough for her to send him a fierce message. I’m not hurt. I haven’t given up. Not yet.

Other than that, they tolerated very little movement on Selena’s part. She sat at her table, thinking about anything but the previous day’s illness…trying not to wonder if it would happen again. She eyed the haphazard pile of cell phones along the wall—every one belonged to a hostage, and they’d all been turned off after the constant, plaintive ringing irritated the Kemenis beyond endurance. She sneaked in isometric exercises, she wiggled her toes, she quietly flexed her stiff arm. She would have preferred an ice pack, even in the chill of an obviously faltering furnace.

And every now and then such practical things made way for a burst of adrenaline from nowhere—demanding action, demanding escape, demanding anything but this waiting. It seized her with a strength akin to panic until she resorted to deep breathing, looking anywhere but at the terrorists…because if they knew how close she hovered to giving in, they’d come bash some sense into her. Or they’d simply shoot her outright.

That would be the smart thing to do.

She drew a deep breath, hearing again the shot that had killed Atif. Yeah, shooting her outright would be the smart thing.

But somehow, when Ashurbeyli walked through the door only moments later, she didn’t launch herself at him. Her pulse pounded through her body, but she schooled herself back to the cool demeanor for which she was known, only one leg twitching to give away her impulse. It twitched again as Jonas White followed Ashurbeyli, looking well rested and refreshed enough to hold a press conference. She’d never guess his age at over sixty; his round face held deep grooves from nose to mouth and impressive scowl lines ridged his forehead, but his hair remained dark—just enough gray at the temples to deny a dye job. Unlike everyone else in the room, he’d clearly been getting enough food—and if he was worried about the success of this crazed new venture, it didn’t show in his body language.

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