Captured By The Obsessive Billionaire King

lung to Helen's flannel shirt. She knelt in the mud, her fi

her face. It carried the heavy,

hunting cat. She dropped the fern. Her right hand moved to her thigh, her fingers wrapping around the col

trunk of an old oak tree for cover, she moved forwa

cluster of ferns. A man

ive fabric was soaked and ruined, comp

eath. She scanned the tree line, listening for the snap of twigs or the heavy

slick with cold sweat. His breathing was shallow, a wet rattling sound in his chest.

She pressed two fingers har

ngerously low. Her mind calculated the symptoms in

pressed into his skin, t

he raw, violent intent of a dying beast. He forced his arm up. His larg

blank. She didn't flinch. Her

lf up. His muscles trembled, failing him. He realized with a

a fraction of a second, she broke his grip and bent h

et go if you want to keep breathing," she stated.

ng calm in her eyes forced his survival in

d straight up the center of his ruined Armani sh

stomach muscles locked up tight, his bod

iping away the poisoned blood. She pulled a crudely carved wooden vial filled with a foul-smelling, dark liquid from a canvas pouch. Wi

ground together. "Who the hell are you

unbleached cotton cloth and wrapped it tightly a

quarter-mile away. The faint, rhythmic crunch of h

rappers and the empty wooden vial ba

g the weight of his body against the speed of the approachin