"Joanna Wylde - Be Careful what you wish for" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wylde Joanna)

to be a part of this.”

“How stupid do you think I am?” he asked softly, eyes slipping down her still form. “You’ll scream
bloody murder if I let you go. You’ll have to, or they might pin his death on you. In fact, I think I like that
idea. You’re a masseuse, right? I thought guys had to go to special parlors to find women like you. A call
girl is the perfect murder suspect.”

His mouth twisted, giving the word “masseuse” an ugly connotation. She stiffened.

“I’m a licensed massage therapist,” she said. “I went to school for a long time to learn my craft, and I’ve
helped heal a lot of suffering people.”

“Shut up, bitch, nobody cares,” Edgar muttered. “Sean, you don’t have to kill anyone. I’m willing to
work with you. We can make things right between us.”

“It’s too late for you Edgar,” Sean said. “I’m touched by your concern for your girlfriend, though.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Sandra said firmly. She edged slowly into the room, trying to control the shaking
of her legs. Sean stepped toward her, eyes trailing across her body once more.

“I could use some of that licensed healing,” he said, the words sounding dirty. He dropped one hand
slowly to his crotch, and cupped himself. Her eyes followed his hand, noticing a large, long ridge beneath
his pants. Edgar shot her a glance and sidled to one side of the room. Maybe he had an idea? Not likely,
but she couldn’t bring herself to give him away by following him with her eyes.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, letting her voice go soft. She straightened her shoulders, pushing
her breasts out. If Edgar needed a distraction to help rescue them, she was ready and willing to help out.
Thankfully her T-shirt had a scoop neckline. Now if only she had some more cleavage…

“Not right away,” Sean murmured, running his hand slowly up and down the length of his erection. Out of
the corner of her eyes she saw Edgar slip through the door. What was he doing? He was supposed to
thump the bad guy over the head while she distracted him, not run away. “Not before I’m done with you.
I haven’t had a woman in a hell of a long time. You look just like a ripe peach to me, all soft and filled
with juices.”

A bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a loud clap of thunder. Edgar bolted down the hallway.

“Edgar, you bastard!” she screamed. Sean spun around, giving out a mighty bellow of anger. Sandra
looked around desperately for some kind of weapon. The closest thing she could see was a wooden
chair. She picked it up and brought it crashing down across the back of his head. He staggered to one
side and she pushed past him out the door. She could hear his muttered curses as she ran down the hall,
through the living room that masqueraded as a waiting room, and out the front door. There was no sign of
Edgar. She jetted across the wet pavement toward her aging hatchback and fumbled in her jeans pocket
for the keys. Where were they?

Fuck.

She’d left them inside.

A noise came from behind; he was coming. She needed to get away.