Assignment Madeleine by Edward S. Aarons

Author:Edward S. Aarons [Aarons, Edward S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Let me go! You’re hurting me. I will scream.”

“You asked for it, didn’t you? You walked out here with me, didn’t you? Looking for kicks, huh?” He laughed silently down at her as she tried to twist free of his powerful hands. “Go ahead and yell. Yell for your husband. Yell for Durell. Why don’t you?”

“What do you want.” she whispered fiercely.

“I’m walking away from here, baby. Don’t you want to take a walk with me? It’s a whole new world for you out there. I’ll have money, plenty of it. You don’t have to worry about that. Look, I know your kind, I know what you want, and I can give it to you. Lots of excitement, lots of thrills, and no strings attached. I'll see to that, Jane.”

She said slowly, “You must be insane. How did you get those handcuffs off?”

He shook the steel rings free of his wrist. They made flat clinking sounds on the rocky ledge where they stood.

“What difference does it make?”

All at once he bent his head and kissed her. His stubbly dark beard scraped her face. His mouth was hard an painful on her lips. She felt suffocated by his huge maleness. Her heart hammered crazily. She pummeled at his chest with her fists. She was afraid. She had gone too far. Why had she walked out here with this man, this murderer? She felt herself thrown roughly to the hard ground. She wasn’t sure what was happening. The brazen sky reeled over her head.

She screamed as he searched her body.

There was a sound of running footsteps. A small slide of falling gravel struck her legs as someone came down the shale slope from the top of the ledge. L’Heureux released her. She pulled her body together from somewhere far out, where it had started to go, and stood up. She felt weak and sick. She saw the prisoner’s body as something huge and black and defiant, standing against the blinding glare of the sun.

“Don't move, Charley.”

It was Durell. Jane turned her head as if her neck hurt her. It did. Durell had a gun in his hand. Jane’s legs trembled. She still felt L'Heureux’ weight upon her. She pushed her hair back from her face. Durell wasn’t even looking at her when he spoke to L’Heureux.

“Did she let you go?”

“Ask her,” L'Heureux said. He grinned his wolfish grin.

“I didn’t," Jane whispered. “How could I? Believe me.”

“Are you hurt?” Durell asked. He still didn't look at her.

“No. No, I guess not. It was so quick—”

“You’ve been very foolish. Go back to the truck, please.”

I’ll see you later, Jane,” L’Heureux said casually. He looked at Durell. “Go ahead, use the gun. I’m walking out of here, pal.”

“Try it.”

"You ain’t going to shoot me,” L’Heureux said. “You’ve got to take me back to your pals alive, right? You won’t use the gun.”

“I’ll bring you back. But not all in one piece. A broken knee-cap won’t keep you from talking when we get to Paris. But it will keep you from running off.

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