by Lyn Horner
Gabriel removed his wet coat and cap, hanging them on hooks near the door, and she did likewise. Immediately feeling a chill, she rubbed her arms.
“I will start a fire but first, let me show the bedroom you may use,” her kidnapper/host said. He ushered her down a short hall past a door on her right, to one on her left. Pushing that door open, he motioned for her to enter.
Wondering if he had something in mind besides showing her where she was to sleep, Josie cautiously stepped past him into the dimly lighted room. A narrow bed with neatly tucked in covers occupied the far wall beneath a small window with a yellowed shade pulled down over it. Against the near wall stood a scarred chest of drawers upon which sat a man’s hairbrush, straight razor and shaving mug.
Josie spun to face Gabriel, fists balled at her sides “This is your room, isn’t it? If you think I’m going to sleep here with you, you’re dead wrong.”
He grinned crookedly. “I had no such thought, chiquita, but I must say it sounds most appealing.”
“Forget it! I’ll sleep outside.” She attempted to charge past him, but he blocked her path, raising his hands palms out and shaking his head.
“That will not be necessary. I will move to the room across the hall. We passed the door if you recall.”
Josie narrowed her eyes and slammed her fists onto her hips. “Well, why didn’t you say that to begin with?”
He laughed low in his throat. “You did not give me a chance, but I do not mind. I enjoy seeing your lovely brown eyes flash when you are angry.”
Her pulse leaped. She opened her mouth but her tongue seemed incapable of forming words. All she could do was stare at him.
Lips twitching, he winked. “I will get the fire going and bring in your things, mi tigresa.”
Vaguely remembering he’d set her saddlebags down on the small couch, Josie nodded. As he strode back up the hall, she gave herself a shake, disturbed by how easily he affected her senses. Not knowing what to do, she perched nervously on the bed until she heard his footsteps returning. Then she jumped up and stuffed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.
“I’d like to clean up. Is there somewhere I can bathe?” she asked as he deposited her saddlebags on the bed.
He scratched his whiskery jaw and made a face. “There is a tiny lavatory across the hall, but it has no tub or sink, only a toilet.”
She blew out a disappointed breath. “Okay, is there a well or a spring, at least, where I can draw some water?”
“Sí, but I know of a better place for bathing. Come, I will show you.” Crossing to the doorway, he crooked his fingers at her.
“Wait, let me get some clean clothes.” She hurriedly dug what she needed from her stiff leather saddlebags then followed him out. However, she grew confused when he turned toward the mine entrance.
“Where are we going?” she questioned, steps lagging.
“You will see. Come.” Snatching a large flashlight from off a hook at the wood-framed entrance, he switched it on and gripped her elbow.
“I don’t like this,” she protested as he led her into the black opening.
“Do not be afraid. The place is not very far. You will be glad when you see it.”
She reluctantly followed the circle of light he cast, stepping cautiously over the uneven ground. Suddenly, she spotted the glimmer of water a few feet ahead. She stopped short. “That looks like a pool.”
“Correct. It is a hot spring. This is why the mine was abandoned, for fear of flooding.” He raised the flashlight, revealing the pool to be about a dozen feet across. “But as you can see, the spring has merely formed an inviting place to wash and soak away your aches.”
Josie warily approached the pool’s edge. Draping her clean clothes over one shoulder, she knelt and ran her hand through the water. “It’s nice and warm. How deep is it, though?”
“Hmm, I have never measured the depth but I guess it to be five or six feet around the outside. The center, where the water bubbles up, is deeper of course.”
“Too deep for me even at the edge,” she said, rising and wiping her wet hand on her pant leg. “I can’t swim, remember?”
“Ah sí, I did not think of that, but no matter. I will go in with you. You will be in no danger.” He started to unbutton his shirt.
She shook her head. “Oh, no you won’t. I’m not falling for that one, señor.” Backing away, she heard him sigh.
“You misunderstand my intention, but if you prefer, I will bring a bucket of water to your room. You can wash there undisturbed, although it will not be as pleasant as bathing here.”
“Sounds fine to me. Now, will you light the way out of here? I’d rather not fall and maybe break a bone.”
“Of course. I do not wish such a thing to happen either. It would be most painful for you … and inconvenient.”
“Yeah, it might spoil your plans for me,” she shot back acidly.
“Actually, I was thinking how difficult carrying you down the mountain to a doctor would be, and how terrible your suffering.”
Darting a bemused glance at his shadowed features, she wondered if he really cared how much she’d suffer under such circumstances. Then she thought of his concern for her safety and comfort during the ride up here. Why would he bother if he intended to torture her into falsely admitting she was one of the Hellhounds? None of it made sense.
*
By the time Josie finished washing and dressing, her stomach was growling. Walking out to the main room – pleasantly warm now – she found Javier standing at the stove stirring a pot of soup or stew, she wasn’t sure which. Gabriel was nowhere to be seen.
“Can I help?” she asked the burly cook in Spanish.
He raised his bushy eyebrows, clearly startled by her knowledge of his language. “There is little to do,” he replied in his gravelly voice. “You can put out bowls if you wish.” He pointed to a dilapidated cupboard mounted on the wall near the stove.
Nodding, she opened the sagging doors to find a mismatched collection of dishes. She lifted down three bowls, assuming it would be Gabriel, Javier and herself eating together, and added a mug to each place at the table. Beneath the cupboard stood a wooden work bench with a badly scratched top. Pulling open the bench’s shallow drawer, Josie withdrew spoons and was about to place them on the table beside the bowls when Gabriel walked in.
His hair was damp and springy. He wore a clean black t-shirt and camo pants. Smiling when he saw her, he said, “You look refreshed, chiquita.”
“So do you.” He also looked sexy as hell with the t-shirt clinging to his torso, outlining every well-toned muscle. Her feminine places tingled at the sight, defying the voice in her head that reminded her he was a kidnapper and who knew what else.
“Sí, I decided to take advantage of the pool.” He rubbed gently at his lower chest and made a face.
“Your wound!” she gasped. “It must have gotten wet. Did you take off the bandage? I should get the first aid kit.” She took a step but he waved her to a halt.
“No, no, it is fine. Javier’s wife, Paola, keeps doctoring supplies. She applied some ointment and a fresh bandage. It only itches a little,” he said, strolling toward her.
“Oh, well, itching means it’s healing.” She nervously licked her lips.
“So I have heard.” He stopped a couple paces away, allowing her to inhale his clean, manly scent, making her want him to step even closer.
Despite her fear of deep water and her refusal to bathe with him in the altogether, Josie secretly wished she’d been brave enough to join him in the warm pool. Struggling to hide her reaction to him, she said, “Tomorrow, I’d like to use some of the water to wash my clothes, if that’s permitted.”
“There is no need,” he said, shaking his head. “Paola acts as our laundress. I am sure she will not mind adding your things to the wash.” Turning away, he slapped Javier on the back and bent to sniff the stew bubbling in its kettle. “Ah,ajíaco, delicioso! Paola has outdone herself.”
“Did I understand you right?” Josie asked. “Did Javier’s wife also fix the … what did you call it? I thought he made it himself.”
Gabriel pivoted to face her. “It is calledajíaco,a type of chicken and potato soup. And sí, Paola cooks for me. Javier only delivers the food and heats it up if need be. By the way, Javier will eat with Paola, so you only need to set places for the two of us.”
“Oh, I just assumed he’d be eating here.”
“Now you know otherwise.” Wagging his finger at the spoons she held, he joked, “Do you think to ward me off with those or will you put them on the table?”
Glancing down, she saw one spoon had tipped sideways between the other two, forming a crude cross. She snorted at the sight. “I doubt it would work.”
“You do not believe I revere such a symbol?” Splaying a hand over his heart, he said mock-seriously, “You wound me, my dear.”
“Right, and I’m Mother Teresa.” She turned away to place two spoons on the table, hearing him laugh.
A few moments later, they sat facing each other across the table. Josie found it very uncomfortable. Avoiding Gabriel’s eyes, she tried the soup. Thick with shredded chicken and potatoes, it tasted wonderful, but she only ate a few mouthfuls before losing her appetite. One cause was her dinner companion whose gaze she often felt upon her while he devoured a large helping of the hearty meal. The other cause was simple exhaustion. It struck like an armored truck, leaving her barely able to hold her head up. She set her spoon down and slouched in her chair, eyes half closed.
“The soup is not to your liking?” Gabriel asked. “Or is it my company that disagrees with you?”
Unwilling to admit he’d guessed half right, she shook her head. “I’m just tired, too tired to eat. I’m going to bed.” She pushed back her chair and rose, feeling slightly lightheaded. When she took a step, her rubbery legs nearly gave out, forcing her to grab a corner of the table to steady herself. Then Gabriel was there, slipping an arm around her.
“Let me help you, chiquita” he said in a concerned tone.
“I leaned on you once today, don’t want to again,” she halfheartedly objected.
“Sí, I know, but you are almost asleep on your feet. Do not refuse my assistance.”
She didn’t have the energy to argue. Nodding, she allowed him to lead her to the bedroom he’d vacated for her. Halting outside the door, he pushed it open.
“You will be safe here. No one will bother you, I promise. Rest well, Josie.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled, wondering why she was thanking the man who’d kidnapped her. Too tired to care, she added, “Good night,” stepped into the room and closed the door. She heard his footsteps retreat down the hall as she drowsily undressed. She’d brought no nightclothes on what was supposed to be a short trip to meet Valdez and escort him to her helicopter. Wary of getting completely naked, she left her bra and panties on and fell into bed. She smelled Gabriel’s scent on the pillow and smiled, inexplicably comforted, just before dropping into a deep, dark void.
At some point she began to dream, and the dreams soon became nightmares. A dark figure loomed over her, hands reaching out with claws for fingers. They ripped at her clothes, exposing her breasts and squeezing her soft flesh painfully. Manuel’s ugly face appeared, teeth bared, ready to tear into her.
*
Gabriel shifted back and forth on his bedroll, seeking a comfortable position on the hard floor. There was no bed in this small bedroom, which he had only used for storage until tonight. Sleep refused to come. He kept remembering the sight of Josie’s lovely pale copper breasts, bared by that bastard Manuel. He’d wanted to kill the beast for putting his filthy hands on her. He still did.
At the same time, he yearned to uncover those beautiful breasts he’d briefly glimpsed and caress them until the gringa cried out begging for more. His blood burned as he imagined all the delightful ways he would enjoy pleasuring her. It was a good thing she hadn’t ridden in his lap today as she did yesterday. He would have been in agony trying to control his lusty reaction to her.
Damn the woman! He didn’t for a minute believe her wild story and must not trust her. Yet he wanted her as he had wanted no other in a very long time. Perhaps never. What was he to … ?
A shrill scream disrupted his troubled thoughts. He’d heard that same cry when Josie was being attacked by Manuel. Had the mongrel somehow sneaked in, again intending to rape her? Bolting upright, Gabriel ran into the hall wearing only his camo pants, left on in case of trouble, and raced to her room. Throwing open the door, he charged in meaning to put a permanent end to the vicious dog who dared disregard his order not to touch the woman.
He stopped cold when he saw what the weak moonlight entering through the window revealed. Alone in her bed – his bed – Josie lay tossing wildly, lashing out with her arms and whimpering in fright. She was caught in a nightmare and he knew beyond a doubt that Manuel haunted her.
He crossed to the bed and sat on the narrow edge next to her. Gently shaking her shoulders, he spoke softly. “It’s alright. He will not hurt you.”
She woke with a frightened cry and immediately began to fight, pounding his chest and attempting to scratch his face. He gasped when she struck his wounded midriff and grabbed her wrists to prevent her from tearing his eyes out.
“Stop fighting! It is I, Gabriel. You were having a nightmare and crying out. I only meant to wake you.”
Sucking in her breath, she went still. “Gabriel?”
“Sí, it is I. You are safe, querida.”
She made a choked sound and hurled herself at him, burying her face against his bare chest and breaking into tears. He wrapped his arms around her, whispering words of assurance in her ear. She had released her hair from its braid, and he couldn’t resist stroking the silky length, all the while feeling her slight form shake with the force of her weeping. He was also painfully aware of her skimpy attire and the tight nipples burrowing through the thin fabric of her bra, into his flesh. Fiery sensations arrowed straight to his groin, tempting him to launch his seductive plans for her right then and there, but he could not bring himself to take advantage of her when she was in such a state. So he simply held her until she finally quieted.
Sniffling, she drew back and dabbed at her eyes and nose with a corner of the bed sheet bunched in her lap. He was about to stand, needing to put space between them, when she laced her fingers through his hair and stretched up to kiss him. Taken totally by surprise, he didn’t respond for a moment. Then a tidal wave of lust flooded him. He crushed her to him and kissed her back, devouring the honey sweetness of her mouth. He wanted more, so much more.
Suddenly, Josie broke off their torrid kiss. “Stop!” she gasped, pushing at his chest. “Let me go.”
Although his body thrummed with need, he released her. He might have planned to seduce her but he was no Manuel. He’d never forced a woman and wasn’t about to start now.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, scooting backward, clutching the sheet to her chest.
“No, you should not have,” he gruffly agreed, struggling to tamp down his raging desire. Rising, he gazed down at her. She looked small and vulnerable. “Will you be all right? Do you think you can sleep after the nightmare?”
She hesitated briefly then squared her shoulders. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, I won’t wake you up again.”
“I am not concerned about that, only about you.”
Her lips parted, but she said nothing. Turning on his heel, he crossed to the open door. He started to draw it shut as he walked out, but her soft voice halted him.
“Gabriel, I apologize for throwing myself at you and … everything.”
He glanced back and smiled, knowing she could not see his expression in the dark. “You needed comfort after a terrifying experience. It was a natural reaction, I think. Do not let this trouble you.” Getting no response, he closed the doo
r and padded back to his room.
Once settled on his bedroll, he crossed his arms under his head and stared into the blackness above him, thinking of Josie and that wild, too brief kiss she’d given him. Dios, how he’d wanted her! Disgusted with himself for letting her affect him so, he wiped a hand across his lips, trying to erase the taste of her.
Did the woman know what she’d done to him in those few seconds? Had she done it purposely? Was it possible she’d staged the whole scene thinking to use her charms to entice him into believing her lies and doing her bidding? Just as he’d thought of using sex to ferret out the truth from her? He laughed sourly at the idea.
But no, she had truly been frightened out of her wits. No actress could fake the trembling of her body and the onslaught of tears that poured out of her, running down her cheeks and wetting his chest. Besides, if she’d planned to seduce him, why order him to stop and release her? That made no sense. He believed what he’d told her, she had simply needed comfort and he had been there, willing to hold her and kiss her.
Oh yes, willing and eager! Still wanting her, he flipped onto his stomach and sought escape in slumber, but not even the slight pain of his wound distracted his thoughts from the woman across the hall. After more tossing and turning, he reached the obvious conclusion: he must put time and space between himself and the tantalizing female. With that decision made, he finally fell asleep.
*
Josie lay awake, her thoughts a confused mess. Gabriel was right, after the horrible nightmare she’d needed him to hold her close. That she accepted, but latching onto him and kissing him like a woman possessed? She groaned in self-disgust, unable to believe she’d done that. But then, she admitted she had been possessed by a desperate longing for his mouth on hers, for his hard male body over her and inside her. It was a miracle she’d come to her senses in time to stop them from finishing what she started.
What if they had? Would that have been so terrible? Imagining the ecstasy of being taken by him, she groaned, her woman’s core pulsating with desire. Lord, the man was an aphrodisiac! She yearned to climb out of bed and go throw herself at him again, this time with no reservations.