Double Entendre by Heather Graham

Author:Heather Graham [Graham, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488025662
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 1994-08-14T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Colleen didn’t know exactly when she began to return to consciousness. She didn’t just open her eyes, but became aware of little things very slowly. Her fingertips first… They felt ridiculously sensitive. They were touching something cool and silky. She wasn’t even really aware of danger; she felt as if she were wrapped in a fog that was soft and gentle and swirling. She felt her body with incredible keenness, yet it was almost as if she were outside herself, aware of things only from some higher, more celestial, plain. Everything was gray, soft, soothing, floating…and her eyelids were heavy. So heavy. It was the greatest effort to tug them open, and even when she did, it seemed that the world was still gray. Then a sharp, pungent odor suddenly streamed into her nostrils, and she dragged a hand up to try to force it away. The gray paled a bit, and she saw a silhouette. In another moment she saw the grinning, masklike face of the dark man in the tarboosh. Eli. Except that his mask was no longer a convivial one; it was amused and pleased—and cruel.

Eli was not making arrangements for her to meet MacHowell. Even in her daze she realized that. She had been betrayed, set up. By Ben? She remembered his eyes, large and dark, just as her vision had faded along with consciousness. Or had General James MacHowell planned all this himself? Had he heard that she was in Marrakech and immediately made plans for her disposal?

“Wh-what…?” The single word was difficult to say. The face became a hazy blob before her, then came into focus once again.

“Mrs. McAllistair, you are with us. In spirit, at least. Welcome to the humble abode of Hassan Ydh Rabak. I will be leaving you now. Hassan has been expecting you. He has been quite anxious, as a matter of fact.”

He was smiling pleasantly, so pleasantly that she felt a terrible fear penetrating the fog that swirled within her mind. Somewhere inside herself she began to realize that she was in real danger, that she was far away from law and order and anyone who might be able to help her.

“Who…are…you working for?” Her voice was so distant, so strained. She sounded like the hookah-smoking caterpillar in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Wonderland. Oh, yes! She had stepped into a Moroccan bazaar, met this man and fallen into a dark tunnel from which she could not seem to escape. It was not real. She had to fight the fog and find reality. If only she could talk! “General MacHowell…?”

“I’m so sorry. You won’t be seeing MacHowell, Mrs. McAllistair. I’m afraid I’m just one of the things you can purchase here. A go-between, an emissary. I’m hired by the job, you might say.” Something blurred before her eyes; it was his hand. Distantly she felt his fingers against her cheek, stroking lightly. She struggled desperately for the strength to fight him. He laughed, his hand returned to his lap. “Ah, yes, you would have been fascinating.

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