Was she a fool to be so trusting? But had she really had a choice? The Cro-Magnon was a sure threat. Just the memory of his fierce eyes and hungry expression made her tremble.
Her instincts told her that the man to whom she clung would never hurt her. His eyes twinkled with good humor. Laugh lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes. His lips turned up in a ready smile. But most of all, his grip felt sure and warm when he’d rescued her all three times.
Or was she addle-brained from the morning’s events?
Oh Jess! What should I do? I can’t even trust myself.
No matter what, she couldn’t let down her guard. Not with her would-be savior. Not with anyone. Not even herself. Especially not with herself.
Her traitorous body tingled wherever it touched the ex-cop. Her blood simmered every time his gaze raked over her.
They wound through back woods until she was thoroughly lost. Except for the occasional piece of trash, civilization hadn’t encroached on this area.
Pay closer attention to the road signs, honey, and stop daydreaming about Sir Lancelot.
When they crossed the state line into Pennsylvania from New Jersey, her heart hammered against her ribs. Yikes! West! West was very bad.
Pummeling his back, she yelled into his ear, “Let me off!”
Richards didn’t respond. Maybe the wind whipped her words away. Maybe he had a back of steel. Frustrated, she pummeled harder.
“Unless you have a death wish, you’d better stop.” The bike swerved dangerously as if to prove his point, forcing her to hold on tighter as if gluing herself to his back. Gravel spun out behind them, then he tilted the bike and popped a wheelie before gunning the monster deeper into the forest.
Gritting her teeth, she snarled. “I’ve ridden with Hell’s Angels who drove saner than you.”
Without warning, he almost jack-knifed the cycle in a near ninety-degree turn down a dirt path hidden from the main road. Low hanging branches swiped at her face, forcing her to bury it in his back.
The idiot was completely, absolutely unhinged!
He curbed the bike, vaulted off and put his hands out as if to encircle her waist.
Recoiling, she dismounted from the opposite side to put distance between them. Quickly backing away, she warily eyed him and the old, rustic cabin in the small clearing. What was it anyway? Some gangster hideaway?
Humor sparkled in the cop’s green-gold eyes. He raked his fingers through his honey colored hair, which did little to push it into some semblance of order and sent her a saucy grin. “Scared of me, Princess?”
Wincing, she backed away another two steps. Princess? What a horrid nickname. She preferred Guinevere if he couldn’t bring himself to call her by her name … not that he knew her real name.
Grimacing, she glanced down at her old worn jeans covered in road dust. If she’d ever looked like a princess she sure didn’t anymore. Her gowns of spun gold and silver hung abandoned and forgotten in her room-size closet back home at her father’s mansion. Her mother would roll over in her grave if she saw her looking as if she’d walked off the pages of Biker Chick Magazine. Nathan would order her to change into one of her elegant gowns that cost more than her last year’s wages.
“Me, scared, Richards?” She snorted and shook her hair out, pulling a few twigs out of it. Charles-Henri, her French hairdresser, would have a heart attack if he saw her crowning glory looking like prime bird nest material. Amused, she smiled at the image of Charles-Henri’s shocked expression.
When Cody’s lips twisted in an I-don’t-believe-you smirk, she tossed her head back and informed him haughtily, “But I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone.” She backed away another good three feet, her glance sliding around the deserted forest. Not even a whisper of traffic disturbed the back woods. Not the drone of an engine or the honk of a horn. Anytime now gnomes and leprechauns would come out of hiding.
“That’s fine gratitude for saving your pretty neck.” He leaned against his bike, folding his arms over his well-muscled chest. “Do I have a dishonest face? Or you’re just one of those chicks that don’t trust any man?”
“Chick?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. No one called her chick. Ire churned in her veins. First princess, now chick. Performing abbreviated yoga, she took a deep, cleansing breath as she mentally counted to ten.
She hitched her backpack higher on her shoulders, strained her ears again for a sign of a vehicle from which she could beg a ride and scowled when the only sounds that met her ears were animal conversations amidst rustling leaves. “Thanks for the lift. Sorry I took you out of your way.”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
She started to march toward the late afternoon sun, turned, and walked backwards to glare at him. “There’s got to be a town or a car sooner or later.”
“The nearest town’s about twenty miles as the crow flies.” He looked her up and down with an insolent light in his eyes. “It’s not safe for a beautiful young woman to hitch a ride. Who knows what types travel a deserted road like this?”
Beautiful young woman? Her traitorous insides fluttered before she stomped down on her wayward emotions. Since when did charm sway her? Nathan’s charm had done just the opposite.
“There’re bound to be houses.…”
“This deep in the woods? Goldilocks, the Seven Dwarfs, or Grandma’s cottage?” He chuckled sarcastically. “I know these woods. Trust me. There’re only a few hunting cabins. And you don’t want some shotgun-toting rednecks high on Jack Daniels taking a shine to you.”
Yeah, right. In safe Pennsylvania.
They weren’t in the Outback or the Wild West. Still, what would she do if some grungy backwoodsman put his grubby hands on her? So far Richards hadn’t laid a hand on her except to help. Maybe she was pushing away her guardian angel?
“Who are you? I mean, who are you really?” She narrowed her eyes and gazed deeply into his wishing she had the gift of ESP, even if she’d never believed in it.
He didn’t flinch or hesitate. “Your protector.” When she lifted her brow, he added, “An ex-New York cop.”
“What are you?”
“Starved, tired and sore. Let’s hold off on the twenty questions until after we get some grub down our gullet and recharge our energy.” He walked around the clearing’s perimeter, sticking his nose into the underbrush here and there.
“What are we doing here?” This place spooked her. She didn’t know if she was more scared of being totally alone with Richards with no one within shouting distance, or if she was more afraid that the woods were full of dangerous people. Nathan’s people.
Again, she wondered if she trusted the handsome and kind Richards too much. After all, Ted Bundy the infamous serial killer was as handsome and charming as they came. Now Richards had her alone, without a soul to come to her aid.
Or maybe Nathan and his henchmen waited in the dark of the cabin.… She eyed it suspiciously and feared getting closer.
“Hiding out until things cool off and your husband comes for you.”
She cut her glance away from his and felt her cheeks color. In a low, husky voice, she asked, “You own this place? Is it safe?”
He dug in his pocket and pulled out a chain, heavy with keys. “It’s locked up tighter than Buckingham Palace so we won’t have to worry about any surprise visitors.”
“Why? Are you on the lam, too?” Melissa bit her tongue, furious with herself for her idiotic slip. Jesse had taught her better than to show her hand. Where was her mind these days?
“Maybe,” he said smoothly. He took a bold step forward. His voice, whisper soft, asked, “What are you running from? Why is that creep chasing you?”
Her nerves tingling, she retreated a step back and then another. She clamped her mouth before she caused more damage.
“From your husband? Does he abuse you?”
Hell no! He was the original white knight. Her savior. She lifted her chin and her muscles stiffened as she gazed back in time
. Jesse couldn’t have been gentler, more caring. But Nathan....
Despite the warm summer day she shivered. Memories of Nathan’s temper terrorized her again as they always did at thought of him. If he ever caught up with her, heaven help her.
“Are you running from your husband? Does he hurt you?” Richards asked even more gently, concern in his voice.
“Je ... Jeff would never do that.” She closed her eyes. How could she be so feeble-minded to almost blurt out Jesse’s name to this stranger? Oy! Could she be going senile at twenty-five? Or had the ride deprived her of oxygen?
“Who are you running from?”
Feeling hounded, she rounded on him. “Since when did you become my pastor, Mr. Nosy?”
“I’m just a friend who wants to help.” He stretched his hand out as he had earlier and tilted his head at the cabin. “Let’s go inside. Eat. Get some shut-eye. Unless you prefer to stay out here with the grizzly bears?”
Staring at his bronzed hand she wondered if it had a hook in it. It looked powerful enough to crush her bones and warm enough to sizzle bacon. But it was those strangely golden eyes that mesmerized her and quickened her breath in her chest.
Nor did the sound of grizzly bears exactly give her a warm, fuzzy feeling.... She looked about her, turning slowly to check out the clearing.
“You have to trust somebody. You can call your husband from the cabin and he can come for you.”
When she still hesitated, staring down the road hoping for a Good Samaritan to deliver her, he sighed deeply. “Look. If I wanted to hurt you, why would I take you to a friend’s cabin so the Feds could pin some crime on me?”
Just because he said the cabin belonged to a friend, how did she know he told the truth? Or if that friend was Nathan? She played out several scenarios in her mind. The notion of a face-to-face confrontation with a grizzly, a hunting party, or another bounty hunter didn’t particularly appeal to her. And her mouth was parched from a day’s worth of wind and the sun’s merciless rays pounding her skull.
What were her choices? Sleep outside alone in the clearing where the night creatures roamed, looking for snacks? Sleep inside with an ex-cop who had been nothing but helpful and kind, if somewhat bossy. She’d wait till he fell asleep and take his wheels. She’d leave the cycle in the next town with instructions to have it delivered to him. By the time he got it, she’d be long gone, her memory an echo on the wind.
In clipped tones, she commanded, “God help you if you’re lying, Richards.”
She glanced heavenward. You’re still with me, right, Jesse?
She eyed the quiet cabin in trepidation. Was this an elaborate trap? Would Nathan or one of their agents lay in wait inside?
Her nerves on edge, she circled the cabin and looked for signs of habitation as Jesse had taught her. She went through her well-remembered checklist. No smoke coming out of the chimney. No lights. No cooking aromas or gas tickling her nostrils. No movement. No unusual animal or human noises.
She peeked inside all the windows she could reach, relieved to find no hint of human habitation, no flicker of movement, no trace of light.
Then, she looked for subtler signs. Trampled grass. Tire ruts. Was the place too tidy for a cabin tucked away from human contact for a couple of years?
Something buzzed close by and she squinted in the dimming light, seeking the source.
Wasps.
She wrinkled her nose. She hated the flying creatures. Inching closer she spied tons of mud daubers’ nests splattered over the front of the cabin. It was as if a small child had slung mud pies everywhere. Those had to go immediately. A few feet away, a bird nested under the porch overhang with her brood of hungry mouths poking over the edge of the straw.
“Too rustic for you, Princess?” Cody whispered in her ear, his voice deep and raspy. His warm breath tickled her neck, sending long-forgotten sensations down her spine.
“Stop calling me that,” she said through grated teeth, mad at herself that the sensations didn’t meet with complete unwelcome. Her body was just starved from its long dry spell, that was all. Any halfway attractive man this close would send her into heat. “Does it have somewhere to sleep? Water? Food?”
“I can’t promise food. I think I left survival supplies.” A wicked gleam lit his eyes and he tugged an earthworm from its safe haven. A savage grin tugged at his lips as he dangled it in front of her. “Take-out protein. Care for a snack?”
Ugh! The moron couldn’t be serious!
Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of grossing her out, she tried to suppress her shudders.
“Let’s check the pantry first,” she said dryly. Brushing his hand aside, she ambled up to the cabin. She peered through dingy, spider web-covered panes as best she could. It looked deserted. Just in case a bear rushed out, she put her hand on the gun she had borrowed from her Cro-Magnon friend.
Cody unlocked the door and swung it wide. He held his arm out, beckoning her inside. “Ladies first.”
“My, my. Now you’re a regular gentleman,” she drawled, stepping gingerly over the threshold, still clutching the gun. The inside was several shades darker than outside despite the waning daylight, like a haunted house. “Are there lights?”
He flicked the switch and grimaced. “Nope. I didn’t have time to call the power company.”
Turning to spear him with her glare, she sighed in exasperation. “Weren’t you ever a Boy Scout? Didn’t you go through boot camp? Don’t you have a generator?”
“Yes. Yes. And no. Real men don’t need electricity or generators. Just a little pioneer ingenuity and a strong ax.”
“Right.” With the aid of her trusty pistol, she entered each room carefully, ready to shoot at the first sign of a trap. To her immense relief, she didn’t find other humans. Sizing up the dusty cabin, she decided the spiders had staked a homestead claim. Her stomach grumbling, she turned her gaze on Cody. “Let’s raid the pantry.”
“There should be some tinned crackers and canned ham. Maybe some tuna.”
“Heavenly,” she said without a trace of sarcasm.
Late afternoon sunlight streaked through dirty windows. Nearly inch-thick dust coated the counters. More spiders hatched in the sink. At their approach, the little demons scuttled down the drain.
Cody laid his pistol on the counter and knelt on one knee. He opened a cabinet and searched for edibles. With a grunt of satisfaction, he pulled out a six-ounce can of tuna and a package of crackers. “Voila. Pay dirt.” A cat’s grin curved his lips.
“Is that all?” She leaned over and peered into a black hole of cabinets. “Where’s all your survival food?”
“Looks like someone raided it.”
“I thought the door was locked?” Ordering her stomach not to rumble, she suppressed a sigh. “I’m not eating your protein snacks. We have to go to the grocery.” She straightened and brushed her hands down her jeans.
He patted his flannel shirt pockets and his jeans. He pulled his pants pockets inside out and shrugged. “Remember? We didn’t get a chance to search for my wallet.
Can you fish?”
“In the dark?” Diminishing light filtered through the cloudy windowpanes.
Challenge in his eyes, he put his hands on his hips and loomed over her.
“You have a better idea? I offered quick protein snacks.”
She pulled the remaining ten she had with her out of her pocket and waved it under his nose. “We’ll buy groceries.”
It was his turn to snort. “What century are you living in? That might buy two days worth of bread and peanut butter.”
“Oh ye of little faith. I have ways to multiply this. You’ll see.”
His eyes narrowed speculatively. His gaze roamed over her appreciatively making her whole body grow feverish. Quickly, before she let him see the effect he had on her, she turned away, and found a can opener and a knife. After rinsing them off in surprisingly clear tap water, she spread thin layers of tuna on the crackers and thrust one at him. S
he stuffed another into her mouth, and then licked her lips.
“I’m too tired to ride into town tonight. We’ll go tomorrow.” After cramming a double-layered cracker sandwich into his mouth, he ambled to the living room and threw his long torso on the couch.
Some gentleman.
She’d had her eye on that couch if she was forced to spend the night. Richards’ white knight status lay in serious jeopardy. “Hey! Aren’t gentlemen supposed to give ladies the couch?”
She debated if she should check out the bedrooms for a soft place to rest her head or if it was safer to curl up in a chair near Cody, when she heard the whisper of a hiss. Immediately, she tensed and her blood froze in her veins.
“Heaven!” Oblivious to his unhappy neighbor, the man heaved a contented sigh. He closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell in sleep’s steady rhythm before she could voice her concern about the alarming noise.
“I suppose there was a serpent in Paradise.” Not that that made their uninvited guest any more welcome. Slipping the revolver from her pants she quelled the shaking of her hands. “Don’t move a muscle.”
Cody opened one eye and gazed at her. “Why?”
The sinister hiss sizzled again.
Freezing instinctively, her gaze darted about for signs of a snake. “I think you disturbed somebody’s nap. I don’t think he wants company.”
Now she heard a rattle. She held her breath, her chest tight from the strain, her stomach tied in instant knots. Then the snake raised its flattened, triangular head, vertical, elliptical pupils devoid of emotion staring at her as if to hypnotize her. Its rattler tail coiled upward ever so slowly, as if to mock her.
“Damn!” Cody’s eyes widened almost theatrically and he froze to the spot. “Give me my gun.”
No time. “Shush.”
Pulling together all her courage, she peered down the gun’s short barrel, setting her sights on the slithering devil.
Well within striking distance, its rattle escalating, it hovered over its quarry.
Deadly Love Page 5