Page 4 of Tainted Obsession 1

George is tense, on the edge of fury.

“You’re safe now,” he repeats.

“How did you find me? Those men. They wanted to kill you.” I jolt upright again, wincing at the sudden stab of pain through my skull. I breathe through it and frantically appraise him, searching for signs of injury. “Are you hurt?”

“No, baby. I’m fine.” He reassures me, but he remains tense.

I sense an intangible distance between us, the one that separates our hearts when he’s in one of his particularly prickly moods.

“But how…?” I clutch at his hand more tightly, desperate to pull him closer and bridge the invisible barrier between us. “What happened? The last thing I remember…”

I trail off on a shudder, not wanting to think about the awful ordeal. The phantom taint of the man’s hands pawing at my breasts makes my stomach twist.

George’s long fingers finally grip mine with equal force. “I needyouto tell me what happened,” he says, voice still tight with barely leashed, volatile emotion. “You were late coming home to make dinner, and the next thing I knew, I was getting a phone call saying you’re in the hospital.”

He rakes a hand through his sandy blond hair. “They told me they found you in a basement with two dead men. Someone put in an anonymous emergency call to get an ambulance to your location. What the hell happened?”

My heart pounds with remembered terror, but I force my mind to focus on the fear-drenched memories in order to puzzle out my situation. George needs the information so that he can go after the men who took me. He just wants to protect me.

I reach out and trace the line of his clean-shaven jaw, trying to soothe away his tension.

“I’m okay,” I promise. “I’m with you now.”

He blows out a long breath and turns his face to kiss my palm.

“I didn’t know where you were,” he admits, his voice shaking slightly. “You scared me, baby.”

“I’m okay,” I repeat, drawn to comfort him.

I hate the thorny mood that’s created a painful gulf between us. I need him now more than ever.

“Hold me?” I ask, my voice small and embarrassingly weak.

He sighs again and wraps his arms around me, drawing me into a careful embrace. I shudder as the residual horror of my ordeal washes through me, and my tears wet his shirt. I bury myface in his chest and weave my fingers through his thick, wavy hair to hold him close.

Alive.George is alive, and so am I.

“What happened, Evie?” he asks, more gently this time.

“I…” I swallow the acid tang on my tongue and force myself to remember. “I was on my way home from the university after I finished my classes for the day.”

George’s hand tightens around mine.

“I told you not to walk on your own,” he reprimands.

“I was only going to the bus stop,” I say, a bit defensive.

I didn’t defy George’s warnings; I didn’t wander through the unfamiliar streets by myself.

I know the route to work using the bus, but I’m not confident navigating Mexico City on foot. George has been too busy with work to show me around, and it would be stupid of me to risk getting lost on my own. The cartels might know my fiancé’s job with the DEA and target me.

A shudder wracks my body. That’s exactly what happened.

“Who took you?” he demands. “Which cartel was responsible?”

“I…” I search my dark memories for any clues about the identities of the men who took me. “I don’t know.”

His lips thin. “You’re fluent in Spanish, Evie. You teach English at the university for god’s sake. You must have been able to understand what they were saying around you.”