'Start again, mate, and I'll stave them in,' Nick said grimly. Craig groaned again, louder this time, and began to struggle weakly.ĭon returned with a red-and-white-checked tablecloth in each fist.Īre you sure? a voice whispered, and Laurel shut it up at once. ![]() Nick pulled Craig's hands out from under him, then brought his wrists together at the small of his back. ![]() 'You had just got to the part about Flight 29 being like the Mary Celeste. He might have been an interested lecture-goer instead of a man sitting on a table in a deserted airport restaurant with his feet planted beside a bound man lying in a pool of his own blood. 'The man is unconscious, after all, and bleeding.' 'Do you really have to do that?' Laurel asked quietly. ![]() But sometimes you found yourself in one of those tiresome situations where the truth could no longer be avoided, and Laurel reckoned the truth to be this: she had chosen Darren Crosby because his pictures and letters had told her he wasn't much different from the placid boys and men she had been dating ever since she was fifteen or so, boys and men who would learn quickly to wipe their feet on the mat before they came in on rainy nights, boys and men who would grab a towel and help with the dishes without being asked, boys and men who would let you go if you told them to do it in a sharp enough tone of voice. She had boarded Flight 29 telling herself that this was her great adventure, her one extravagant tango with romance - an impulsive transcontinental dash into the arms of the tall, dark stranger.
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