Free Hush by Cherry Adair Page A

shiv.” How hard could it be?
    His smile widened. It didn’t reach his eyes, but he showed his white teeth and a dent of a dimple in his lean right cheek. “Ah. Learned no doubt while you were incarcerated for your life of crime.”
    â€œI’m a quick study.” Make of that what you like, smart-ass.
    â€œI’m starting to think you just might have hidden depths,” he said dryly.
    They walked for about five minutes while she mulled that over, then she blurted, “I don’t. Have any hidden depths, that is.” Honest to God, she could keep lying, but in this scenario it wasn’t in her best interests to mislead him. She had no idea what—if anything—he was planning, but making him think her capable of things she was incapable of doing would be not only stupid but hellishly dangerous as well. “Look, I’m not exactly what you think I am—”
    â€œA pretty woman way the hell out of her depth?”
    â€œYes. That.” He thought she was pretty? “Wait, no, I am exactly that. Out of my depth, I mean,” she admitted. “I wasn’t exactly honest last night. I’m not an exotic dancer. I work at Jim’s Sporting Goods store in Junction City, Kans—”
    â€œKansas?” His laugh sounded rusty, and he stopped to stare at her. His eyes looked very green and were deceptively filled with laughter. Clearly a trick of the light.
    Acadia scowled. “Yes, Kansas. What’s so funny?”
    He started walking again before the guards could prod him. “Keep moving. Nothing, Dorothy.”
    Infuriating man. “You weren’t held as a baby, were you?”
    â€œI have pictures.”
    Acadia made a rude noise. “Obviously Photoshopped.”
    Gideon chuckled as he shoved enormous, leathery leaves out of his way, then held them so she could pass. “Zak was born sparring.”
    He’d clearly had plenty of practice. Acadia changed the subject. “Kidnapping is a pervasive problem in Venezuela, were you aware of that when you came?” She’d read about it, but of course had thought it wouldn’t apply to her. For God’s sake, she had no idea how she could have ignored the compelling statistics and the probability of being kidnapped herself. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I don’t want to sound like I’m lecturing you or anything,” she added, “but it’s good to know some facts. Caracas has one of the highest per capita homicide rates in the world.”
    â€œFortunately,” Zak murmured, his voice Sahara dry, “we’re not in Caracas at the moment.”
    â€œAnd it’s even higher in outlying areas where there’s no pretense of law and order.”
    â€œAren’t you a font of information.” He didn’t sound like a fan.
    â€œI am, actually,” she replied, unperturbed. “They even have a National Counter Kidnapping Commission. In fact—” Now she remembered the data, anyway—“In fact, kidnappings have increased from forty to over sixty percent in the last year alone. And that’s just the ones reported to the police. Most aren’t.” Because, reported or not, the kidnappers were rarely caught, and even then, rarely charged.
    Zak said nothing as he dropped a step behind her, so she continued hopefully, “It’s unlikely that they’d walk us all this way just to kill us later, right?” Pointless to mention that the guerrillas could do worse than kill them. He’d know that.
    â€œI imagine they’ll hold us until the ransom is paid.”
    â€œHold” didn’t mean gently . The way the one called Eloy had been looking at her when he shoved her out of the van didn’t bode well. “About that …” Now would probably be a good time to tell him just why he and his brother were being dragged willy-nilly through the jungle with her.
    â€œDon’t worry about