Stolen Love (Beauty in the Stolen #3) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Beauty in the Stolen Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
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I take a clean bra and thong from the open suitcase on the floor and hand them to her. “We better get dressed.”

After finding clean clothes for myself, I pull on a pair of boxer shorts. Leaving her to get on with the task of dressing, I go to the lounge and pick up my jeans from the floor. I retrieve my phone from the pocket and read the alert. The tracer is tracking Wolfe’s movements. It’s set to send warnings at certain distances.

Cas leans in the doorframe, dressed in her underwear. She doesn’t ask. She waits.

“Get ready,” I say. “He’s less than an hour away.”

Chapter 14

Cas

My chest is tight as I pull on a pair of jeans and a green camo T-shirt while Ian checks what the bug has recorded via an app on his phone.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“It’s Mint who called Wolfe. His shop assistant used a spare key to unlock the door.”

I thought I knew fear after everything Ian had put me through. That doesn’t come close to the fear flowing like poison through my veins as I tie my sneakers.

Ian is tense. His movements are fluid but hurried as he drags a matching camo T-shirt over his head and fits a pair of jeans. While he pulls on his boots, I check the chamber of my gun and drop a couple of boxes of bullets into my backpack.

He does the same. After preparing his bag, he hands me two pills with a glass of water. I don’t need the pills, but I understand why he’s giving them to me. Precaution. When I’ve swallowed them, he zips open my backpack and drops the pills inside.

Giving the bag a pat after closing it, he says, “Let’s go.”

The order rushes in my ears. It pounds with my heart in my temples as I follow him to the lounge. We shovel down sandwiches and bananas while packing up and cleaning the cabin. No one will even know we’ve been here. Ian’s plan is to dump Wolfe’s body in the gorge where the vultures will pick it apart. The hyenas will take care of the bones. A shiver runs over me at the cold-blooded thought.

“Hey,” he says, touching my cheek. “It’s him or us.”

I want to say it’s not what I’m thinking, but he knows me well.

He pulls me closer and kisses my lips. “We’ll be fine.”

I try to smile. “I know.”

“If you have doubts about—”

“I don’t.”

It’s too late. We’ve come this far. I robbed Mint, and Wolfe is on his way.

Ian studies me for another moment. I don’t want him to regret involving me. This isn’t the time to be weak.

Squaring my shoulders, I say, “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

Spearing his fingers through his hair, he walks to the window and stares out at nothing.

“Ian.”

He looks at me from over his shoulder.

“I’m ready,” I say again.

He gives a tight nod. The resigned look on his face says like me, he realizes it’s too late. We’re in this together. There’s only one way forward.

I take a bottle of water and my phone while he puts the tablet on the island counter and plays the recording we made last night. Our voices are loud. We’re arguing. The recording is fifteen minutes long and set to play on a continuous loop. We tested the sound last night to make sure our voices are audible through the closed windows and door.

The guard has already done his rounds this morning. He’s not coming back until tonight. There’s little chance he’ll hear the voices coming from inside the cabin.

I holster my gun and swing my backpack over my good shoulder. I can’t fit it onto my back yet. With the stitches, the strap bothers the wounds. Ian pushes his pistol into the back of his waistband, grabs his backpack, and goes outside ahead of me. I keep vigilant as he locks the door with the same tool he used to pick the lock. Taking care to walk on the grass so we don’t leave muddy shoe prints on the concrete path, we make our way to a cluster of macadamia trees behind the cabin.

He takes my backpack and lifts me into one of the trees. Head tilted back, he waits until I’ve climbed onto a branch obscured by the dense leaves before handing me the backpack. I sling it over one of the branches next to me. When I’m straddling the branch with my back braced against the trunk, he jogs toward the gorge to check the alarms. He set up motion detectors in a one-kilometer-radius. We’ll know when Wolfe is near.

I check my watch and count the minutes. It feels like an hour before he returns.

“All set,” he says quietly when he reaches the tree in which I’m hiding.

He chooses the tree closest to mine, grabs a branch, and pulls himself up. He’d cut some of the branches facing my hiding spot yesterday so I can see him if he needs to communicate with hand signals. From the outside perimeter, we’re hidden behind the leaves. He gives me a thumbs-up sign at which we both switch off our phones.


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