Egan Cassidy's Kid

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Egan Cassidy's Kid Page 14

by Beverly Barton


  “Denby here.” Ellen’s eyes narrowed. Her forehead wrinkled. “Damn. Yeah, sure thing, Sam. I’ll leave Wolfe with Joe and Hunter until things are settled here. Jack and Matt and I will take the Dundee jet back to Atlanta ASAP.” Ellen returned her cell phone to her vest pocket.

  “What’s going on?” Hunter asked.

  “A new case that demands my personal attention,” Ellen explained. “Joe, you and Hunter will continue to act as Bent’s personal bodyguards, until…well, until Egan tells you otherwise. When our man Cassidy is no longer AWOL and has figured out how he plans to proceed, I can spare Wolfe for a few more days. He’s told me that he wants to help Egan track down Cullen.”

  Grant Cullen, wearing a silk robe, emerged from the bathroom and hailed Lieutenant Shatz with a wave of his hand. “You may bring in my breakfast now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The young man hurried out of the bedroom and returned within minutes, carrying a silver tray. After placing the tray on the small table in front of the windows, he removed the domed lid to reveal a plate of pork chops and scrambled eggs. Steam rose from a cup of black coffee at the side of the plate.

  Cullen tightened the silk cord belt around his waist, eased out a chair and sat down at the table. “Is Colonel Sherman back yet?”

  “Yes, sir, he returned about five minutes ago.”

  “Ask him to come in, please. I want a full report.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Winn Sherman, dressed in civilian attire, marched into his superior’s bedroom, halted in front of him, clicked his heels and saluted.

  “What did you find out?” Cullen speared one pork chop with his knife, then sliced it into small pieces.

  “The soldiers at the fort surrendered this morning and were taken into custody.”

  “Did you make arrangements for lawyers?” Cullen placed a piece of meat in his mouth and chewed.

  “Yes, sir. And I made some phone calls, to certain loyal supporters and have found out that Cassidy’s fellow Dundee agents are staying in Flagstaff. Apparently Cassidy and Ms. Douglas haven’t shown up, yet.”

  “That means they’re still in the mountains.” Cullen lifted his coffee cup. “No doubt he thinks he’s outsmarted me. But I’m the smart one. Tucked away here in my little house in Minerva, where the citizenry will keep my whereabouts a secret, I can rest and make plans for our next confrontation.”

  “What if Cassidy takes the woman and boy back to Alabama?”

  “If that happens, we’ll follow. In a few days. But knowing Cassidy as I do, I’m sure he’ll send them somewhere he thinks is safe and then he’ll try to track me down. I’ll just have to make sure I get to him before he gets to me.”

  Chapter 10

  Towering cottonwoods dotted the landscape, blending in with the junipers, pines and blackjack oaks. Enormous saguaros, their fat, prickly arms reaching skyward, grew throughout the thick brush. Clusters of prickly pear cactuses pushed up through the rocky ground. During Egan and Maggie’s journey down a winding track along the mountain wall, dark storm clouds gathered overhead, blocking out the sun and forecasting rain. The wind picked up, swaying treetops and whistling around craggy boulders.

  When Egan changed directions, heading up a rock-studded path, Maggie balked. “Where are you going?”

  “In case it’s slipped your notice, the bottom is fixing to fall out,” he said, casting his gaze at the swirling gray clouds. “We need to find some kind of shelter before we get caught in a downpour.”

  “And just where do you think we’ll find any shelter out here in the middle of nowhere?” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him.

  “If I’m not mistaken, this weed-infested path could lead to an abandoned mine or a ghost town or maybe just a couple of old shacks. From the Arizona maps I studied and the data I read, there are numerous places throughout the mountains in this state that were left to the elements when mines played out.”

  As her gaze lingered on the gloomy sky, Maggie noted two buzzards hovering high above them. An uneasy shudder racked her body. “I’d settle for a damp cave right now.”

  “Yeah, so would I. I don’t relish the idea of our being swept away in a spring rain.” He motioned for her to follow him.

  As if to encourage Maggie’s cooperation, a clap of thunder boomed in the distance. She gasped and jumped simultaneously. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

  As the intervals between thunder claps and lightning flashes shortened, Egan’s search for shelter escalated. He placed Maggie in front of him, knowing that he had to let her set the pace or he would force her into an unmerciful march. The farther they climbed, the wider the pathway. Egan became convinced that this had once been a road. And roads always led somewhere, didn’t they?

  Maggie’s unnerving screech halted Egan immediately. “What’s wrong?” He jerked the Glock from where he’d stuffed it under his belt and rushed to her side just in time to see a coyote dash across the road. “Good God, woman, you scared me to death over a coyote?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said sarcastically. “But the thing startled me. It just came out of nowhere.”

  “And now it’s gone. So there’s nothing to be afraid of.” He returned the pistol to its nest at his back, then reached over and patted Maggie on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “And I didn’t mean to overreact. I guess we can both be forgiven for being nervous and on edge.”

  Tiny droplets splattered onto Maggie and Egan and pitted the dirt pathway at their feet. Egan grabbed Maggie’s hand.

  “Come on, honey. We’d better head into the woods. The tree branches should provide some protection. At least it’s better than nothing.”

  Within minutes the feisty wind increased, picking up dead leaves and scattered debris and sending them whirling around in the air. Thunder drummed. Lightning crackled. And a heavy downpour soaked the earth.

  Egan and Maggie ran into a wooded area, just off the road. Breathless, their bodies dripping with moisture, they stopped beneath a large sheltering grove of trees. Egan gently shoved Maggie back against the trunk of a cottonwood and shielded her body with his.

  Their breaths mingled as he pressed his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes and listened. Listened to the rain. Listened to her thumping heartbeat. With his chest pushing against her damp breasts, her already peaked nipples responded by tightening even more and tingling with awareness. How could she possibly be sexually aroused at a time like this? she wondered. Wet, tired and on the run. With Egan. His presence alone excited her. Now as much as it had in the past. The aura of strength and danger that surrounded him possessed aphrodisiacal powers.

  Maggie’s lips parted on an indrawn breath. Aligning their lower bodies so that his erection nestled between the apex of her thighs, Egan covered her mouth with his. Hot and wet and wild, they shared a kiss that left them both breathless and yearning for more.

  “I can hardly take you here and now!” he said, his words a harsh curse. “What is it about you, Maggie mine, that makes me lose my head whenever I’m around you?”

  She didn’t respond. There were no words to describe the way she felt or explain the unexplainable. The chemistry between them couldn’t be denied. A look. A touch. A kiss. An explosion of the senses.

  As the rain seeped between the branches, dripping down onto Egan’s head and back, reality momentarily returned. His gaze searched past Maggie, through the trees and beyond the grove. At first he thought his imagination was playing tricks on him. He blinked a couple of times. But what he’d thought might be a mirage was still there. About a hundred yards above the wooded area, a stone building with a rusted roof awaited them.

  “Let’s go.” Egan dragged Maggie out from under the canopy of trees.

  As the rain pelted her relentlessly, Maggie swiped the moisture from her face. “Where are we going?” Has he lost his mind? she wondered.

  “Look straight ahead,” he told her.

  “It’s a house!�
� she cried.

  “It’s a shack,” he corrected. “But even if the roof is leaking, it’ll provide better shelter for us.”

  By the time they reached the small rock building, they were soaked to the skin. Maggie barely had time to notice the crumbling rock wall that jutted out from either side of the abandoned hovel before Egan shoved open the creaking wooden door and propelled her into the dark, dank belly of the one-room dump. Signifying countless years of neglect, strong mustiness and a faint malodorous scent assailed her senses. Bending over double as she fought to catch her breath, droplets cascaded off her body and puddled around her feet. When Egan pushed the door closed, the rusted hinges squealed and the bottom edge of the door scraped along the dirt floor.

  With her breathing returning to normal and her eyesight adjusting to the dim interior, lit only from daylight passing through two small, high windows, Maggie took note of her surroundings. Several cobweb-draped bottles perched in one windowsill. A dust-coated wooden table and chairs, along with an ancient wood-burning stove, created a kitchen nook on one side of the room, while a simple metal bed, without a mattress, and a rickety wooden chest provided what had once been the sleeping quarters. Tiny streams of rain leaked through holes in the old tin roof, pitter-pattering onto the rusted iron bedstead, dripping down on the center of the table and boring little pools into the packed-dirt floor. Maggie’s nose crinkled when she saw the dried pellets littering the floor here and there, reminders of non-human inhabitants.

  “Be it ever so humble,” Egan said.

  “I think humble is an overestimation.”

  He shook his head, shooting a shower of raindrops all around him. “At least we’re out of the rain.”

  “More or less.” Maggie eyed the numerous areas where the leaking roof allowed the rain inside the house.

  Egan pulled out a chair from the table and sat, then crossed one leg over the other and proceeded to remove his boots. “Better than a cave, don’t you think?”

  “Much,” she agreed, then slumped down in the chair opposite him and mimicked his actions. After taking off her boots and wet socks, she rubbed her aching feet. “I’ve got blisters on the bottom of my feet.”

  “Are they bad?” He removed the pistol, laid it on the table and immediately scooted his chair around the table and grabbed both of Maggie’s feet.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’d think it’s obvious. I’m seeing for myself how bad your blisters are.”

  When she tried to jerk her feet out of his grasp, his big hands circled her ankles and placed her feet in his lap. Egan grinned at her. She tried to frown, but instead the corners of her mouth lifted into a hint of a smile.

  He studied the tiny blister on the underside of her right foot, then inspected the larger blister on the pad of her left foot. As she watched, he pulled one foot between his legs, setting the heel directly against his sex. After lifting her other leg up so that her foot was even with his chest, he ran caressing fingers over, under and around, being careful to avoid the blister.

  “What—” she cleared her throat “—what are you doing?”

  “Inspecting your blisters.”

  “Oh.”

  He lifted his gaze from her long, slender feet to her big brown eyes. “If I could build a fire, our clothes would dry faster and we’d dry out faster, too.”

  “But you can’t build a fire,” she said.

  “There’s more than one kind of fire.” Egan slid his hand beneath the hem of Maggie’s jeans, his touch tender and seductive as he petted her ankle. And all the while he maintained eye contact with her.

  “Is there…more than one kind of fire?” She sucked in a deep, unsteady breath, knowing that if he continued touching her, she would soon be begging him to make love to her.

  Her twitching toes patted against his erection. His wicked grin widened as his eyes lowered to her breasts. Her clearly outlined nipples strained against the wet material of her chambray shirt.

  “Oh, yes, there is most definitely more than one kind of fire,” he said.

  Egan lifted her right leg and then her left, placing them on either side of his hips. Immediately he reached over and hauled her out of her chair and onto his lap. As her bottom settled onto his thighs and her mound softened against his erection, her toes grazed the dirt floor as she straddled him.

  “Every time I touch you, a fire ignites inside me. Instantaneous combustion,” he said. “Something beyond my control. Believe me, sweet Maggie, I can’t help responding to you the way I do.”

  “I know.” She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. With her lips brushing his neck, she whimpered, “It’s the same with me. I can’t stop myself from wanting you. Only you. I’ve never felt this way with anyone else.”

  He lifted her head from his shoulder and cupped her chin between his thumb and index finger. “And I have never felt this way with anyone else.”

  When his lips touched hers, her feminine core squeezed tight as tingling sparks of desire radiated upward and outward through her body. Alive with sensations, she responded to every stimulus. The taste of his tongue mating with hers. The feel of his beard and mustache gently scratching her skin. The smell of his purely masculine scent.

  Egan ended the kiss, leaving them both breathless, aroused and aching. He buried his face against her breasts and nuzzled her. His mouth sought and found a beaded nipple, covered it and suckled her through the wet cloth of her shirt. Maggie keened deep in her throat, tossing back her hair, which glistened with raindrops, as Egan slid his hand beneath the waistband and down inside her jeans and panties. He caressed her hip. Her warm, wet lips traveled over his neck and up to his ear. She nibbled on his earlobe.

  Egan grasped her bottom with one hand and clutched the back of her neck with the other. Lust wound tightly inside him, hardening his sex and urging him to take what he wanted.

  “Stop me now, Maggie, or there will be no turning back.”

  She responded by unbuttoning his shirt and exposing his chest. The moment she ran her fingers through his chest hair, he unbelted, unsnapped and unzipped her jeans in rapid succession. Standing, Maggie allowed him to remove her jeans and panties. He cupped her buttocks and nuzzled her belly, then hurriedly undid the fly of his jeans and freed his sex.

  Maggie trembled with longing, her body aching for release. She glanced down at him for just a second before he impaled her, dragging her down and onto his shaft. That momentary glimpse of him, big and hard and ready, excited every feminine instinct within her.

  Hot and wet and swollen with desire, her sheath surrounded him tightly. He held her in place for a heart-pounding minute, letting her body adjust to his. And then he lifted her hips, almost removing his sex from within her, before burying himself deeply with one surging thrust.

  Her voice crying out with the pleasure of their joining echoed in the hushed stillness of the deserted cabin. Outside the rain continued drenching the earth. Lightning crackled across the sky and thunder shook the broken windowpanes.

  Once he had taken her completely, he removed her jacket. Then he unbuttoned her shirt, spread it apart and unhooked her bra. With the utmost tenderness, he attacked first one breast and then the other. When his mouth tugged on her nipple, powerful, titillating fissions exploded inside her.

  With his mouth at her breast, he placed his hands under her bottom, lifting her. “Ride me,” he demanded, as his fingers bit into her naked hips.

  She quickly set the rhythm, beginning with a slow, seductive dance. In and out. Up and down. Leisurely enjoying each stroke. As tension coiled tighter and tighter, Maggie accelerated the pace.

  “That’s it,” Egan mouthed the words against her breast. “Harder and faster!”

  With a frenzied desire pushing her, Maggie gave herself over to the primitive needs of her body and of his. Egan took control, clutching her hips and pumping into her with deep, hard lunges that soon had her moaning with pleasure. Her release hit her with the force of a
raging storm. She shuddered when an overwhelming climax claimed her. Egan accelerated his thrusts to a frantic tempo. He came apart, unraveling at the speed of light as he jetted into her, all the while deep groans erupted from his throat.

  While aftershocks rippled along their nerve endings and Maggie’s body quivered with supersensitivity to his touch, they clung to each other, their breaths labored, their skin sticky with perspiration.

  His sex remained inside her. He didn’t want to disengage his body from hers. At this moment she was still a part of him. When he stroked her back with his fingertips, she shuddered. Oh, how he loved the fact that she was so easily aroused and that even after fulfillment, she could be receptive to renewed passion. At his age, once was usually more than enough to satisfy him—with any other woman. But with Maggie, once would never be enough.

  She was his only as long as she needed him. Once the threat of Grant Cullen’s existence was removed, Egan would have to let her go. She deserved to have her sane and sensible life in Alabama restored. It was what she wanted—what he wanted for her. But until that time came, he intended to store up as many perfect memories as possible. Enough to last the rest of his life.

  Maggie rubbed her smooth cheek against his beard-rough cheek. “Listen. It’s still raining. We could be stuck here for hours.”

  “So we could.” Egan lifted her up and off his lap, disengaging their connection. When she stood on wobbly legs, he reached out to steady her.

  Maggie possessed a woman’s body. Lush, full, rounded. Egan’s gaze traveled the length of her form, from wild, mahogany hair hanging in damp curling strands across her back and over her shoulders to the dark, fiery triangle at the apex of her legs. And oh, those legs. Those long, luscious legs. Remembering the way she had mounted him, straddling him as they made love, his sex twitched with renewed vigor.

  “Wish that bed had a mattress,” he said. “I feel like taking a long nap.”

 

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