“No,” she said in a soft whisper. “Don’t move!”
He stilled. Cold chills raced down his spine as he suddenly realized she wasn’t looking at him, but over the top of his head. What the hell was the wacky woman looking at? He couldn’t sit here not knowing what was behind him. Shit. Knowing her and the way she’d reacted to the raccoon, it was probably a rabbit this time. Unable to just remain there, Danger jerked up and whipped around. His breath caught, then escaped in a long, slow hiss.
Jesus Christ. He grabbed for the gun on his hip only to realize he’d removed it and placed it by the saddle on the ground, too far away for him to ever reach it in time. He backed up one step, then froze.
The muscles in the tan-colored cougar crouched on the rocky ledge above him tensed and trembled. Fuck. The thing was huge, at least six feet and two hundred pounds. A female. She was ready to pounce. Ready to rip out his throat. Ready to kill.
“Shoot her, Lacey.”
Okay. So she must not have heard his order to kill the lion. “Shoot her.”
A shot rang out. A single shot, not aimed at the cougar, but into the air above the cougar’s head. Lucky for him, it was enough to startle the mountain lion. The animal whirled and bounded away in a giant leap as long and smooth and spectacular as her well-honed body.
It was enough to infuriate Danger.
He whipped around and marched straight at Lacey, strangulation on his mind and on his face. He jerked the rifle from her hands. “Why the hell didn’t you shoot it? Next time I tell you to shoot something, by God shoot it!”
Swearing softly, he yanked a canteen off the packhorse and tossed it toward her.
Lacey caught it by the strap, flashing him a look of impatience. She took a sip of tepid water, spilling water down the front of her shirt as she jumped when Danger gave a sharp whistle.
“What are you—ohmiGod.” Lacey’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped open in stunned surprise. The canteen slipped from her nerveless fingers, falling to the ground unnoticed.
Danger reached out and pressed her lips together with his thumb and forefinger.
Lacey made a muffled sound and slapped at his hands. “That’s a wolf. A big wolf.” She looked at him with rounded eyes. “I—I thought I’d dreamed it.”
“His name is—”
“Pagan. I remember.”
She sucked in a sharp breath as the huge animal stalked lazily toward them. She cringed as the wolf’s warm breath brushed hotly against her bare leg, and the massive animal moved past her to Danger.
Danger grinned and patted the wolf on the head. “Pagan likes to wander about, but he always returns.”
Lacey watched with curiosity and admiration as Danger took care of the horses and fed Pagan. The man was in his element, completely relaxed around the huge wolf. She didn’t know which surprised her more: the wolf or the change in Danger’s appearance.
Working near the animals enhanced his savageness, his rugged masculinity.
She slid her gaze over him with appreciation. Abruptly he lifted his head and shot a look toward her. The silver depths were so damned heated she could almost feel the flames scorch her flesh.
Raw color swept upward and flared across his cheekbones. He drew in a ragged breath, exhaled and slowly turned away. Muscles rippled and tightened as he checked the saddle, checked the supplies, talked softly to Diablo and Pagan, and pointedly ignored her.
Why did he always turn away from her?
She thought she’d all but thrown herself into his arms, but still he refused the invitation. Very smart. The last thing she needed was a love affair with this untamed man. Hell, she wasn’t even taking birth control. The pills she’d been on had made her ill and she’d gone off them right after her return from Africa. There had been no need to restart a different kind.
Danger didn’t want to acknowledge the desire he’d seen on Lacey’s face. It made him ache. Ache to taste her mouth. Her body. Ache for things he could never have. Irritated with what he felt for the bothersome woman and what he’d read in her eyes, he reached for the canteen she’d dropped earlier.
Frowning, he tossed it across the packhorse, boosted Lacey astride Diablo, and they were on their way once again. The noon meal had been deliberately quick, salt bacon and beans.
“I’m sorry I didn’t shoot the cougar. I could have gotten you killed.”
“Yep. You’re lucky it didn’t leap on me.”
“I’m lucky?”
“Yep. When she finished with me, she would come after you.”
“She’s too beautiful to kill.”
“Beautiful, but deadly that close up and personal. Her species name means ‘cat of color.’ ”
“Cat of color?”
“Yeah, kind of reminds me of a certain little cat I know, all gold and tawny.”
As Lacey slid her arms around his waist, he had a feeling he would long remember tangling with this female who seemed determined to invade his space. He’d probably regret it for a lot longer.
In His infinite wisdom, God had run out of mercy for him. When it came to dealing with Lacey Weston, he decided he was probably better off bargaining with the Devil.
Still, he clamped his hands around hers where they rested against his waist and instructed her to hold on tight. “The terrain is getting rougher and the next round of rain promises to be even more severe.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Danger spotted the wolf he considered a friend. Along with Diablo, Pagan was the other love in his life. Besides his family, they were the only things he truly loved—until now, a voice whispered.
He frowned as his thoughts drifted to the woman seated behind him. No, he wouldn’t allow himself to care for her. He would stick to Pagan and Diablo. He knew without a doubt Lacey could do a lot of damage to his heart if he let her.
His mind cried out with the hurt he knew was inevitable.
His heart would heal—eventually.
But how was he going to stop her from destroying his soul?
In The Arms Of Danger
Chapter Seventeen
Few men know how to kiss well. Fortunately, I’ve always had time to teach them.
Mae West
Montana Backcountry Sun.4:00 p.m.
Danger halted the powerful stallion and scanned the distant snow-capped mountains. The clouds drifted low, thick and heavy, like fingers of fog curling along the ground. Less than an hour ago they’d spent a miserable time huddled against the wet and cold beneath a tiny outcropping while the wind and rain lashed at them.
He’d barely found enough of a tree break to shelter the horses because the higher they’d climbed the smaller and patchier the trees were. It was hard riding, with loose rock underfoot, made more treacherous by the wet weather.
His clothes clung to his flesh like cold, wet cement. He’d kill for a cup of hot java. He knew Lacey was as miserable as he felt and just as soaked. A quick look revealed her face was pinched and she looked totally washed out.
But she’d been a trooper, no complaints voiced. In fact, for her, she’d grown exceptionally quiet, which only proved she felt like hammered shit.
She clung to his waist as if afraid if she let go she’d topple off Diablo. Her lips were drawn tight, shoulders drooped and her auburn brows were scrunched together as if her head ached. He knew all the jostling around on a horse couldn’t be helping her concussion one bit, but staying here in the wilderness could prove fatal for both of them.
They both shivered with cold and were ready to call it quits for the day. The horses were just as exhausted. The entire afternoon the ride had been a steady incline over rocky ground and along narrow trails where Diablo was forced to walk gingerly. Sheer cliffs with jutting canyons and ridges of solid rock lay below the narrow edges.
Danger squinted against the brief appearance of the late afternoon sun. Jesus, what was he looking for? There hadn’t been a hint of a lone killer, a campsite, or a murdered woman. He hadn’t expected one on this side of the creek, but
he couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched. Stalked. The hairs on his nape told him someone was behind them.
Someone evil. Someone stealthy. Someone with murder on his mind?
Tiredness seeped into every pore. Maybe it was just his imagination. Sleep had eluded him the night before what with little miss hot hands visiting his crotch so frequently. He was way past the point of being sick and tired propped up on the back of a horse, frustrated with causing Lacey more discomfort when he knew she needed proper rest. He clenched his teeth. Her arms wrapped around him constantly and her fingers scant inches from his fucking zipper were enough to make any man feel as if he was going to explode.
That woman knew how to keep him in a constant state of semi-arousal. His damned cock ached. His balls throbbed and if she kept her fingers on the top button of his jeans much longer, he was going to embarrass himself. He snatched her hand away and placed it higher on his waist.
“Sorry,” she muttered sleepily and yawned.
He told himself not to be so hard on her, that she didn’t realize what she did to his libido. She was as tired and drained as he was. He worried he’d miss something. He couldn’t watch every direction at once.
If he didn’t know better, he’d swear they were going in circles. But he knew they weren’t. Twisting the lid off the canteen, Danger passed it to Lacey. “Have a drink and wake up. You need to help me keep an eye out.”
And she needed to stay awake. Her being drowsy might not be such a good sign.
She tipped the canteen against her lips and swallowed. He watched her throat work and imagined her wet mouth taking his cock, sucking the head deep in her throat—shit! He had to stop this.
Lacey’s eyes flashed like burnished gold in the faltering sunlight as she handed him back the canteen. She reminded him of a kitten as her tongue struck out and she lapped an errant drop trickling down her chin. He stifled a moan.
She’d glide her tongue over his cock in just the same way, tasting every inch of him.
Raw heat licked at his groin as he imagined her tongue on his body, felt its smooth texture in his mind as she slid it over his burning flesh. Smothering a groan, Danger closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his manhood sprang to attention.
What would she do if he took her hand and wrapped her fingers around his dick?
Not for the first time, he wondered what it was about this woman that drew him, turned him on. She continually surprised him. She rode Diablo as though born on the back of a horse.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked.
“We’ll set up camp here.” Danger lowered Lacey to the ground and watched as she leaned forward and casually scratched Pagan behind his ears. She gave a startled yelp as Pagan growled low with pleasure, then licked her hand.
“He likes you,” Danger said huskily.
Lacey flashed the wolf a wary look. “Unlike his master,” she quipped.
“I never said I didn’t like you.” Hell, the problem was he liked her too damned much.
“Oh, so you do like me?” She grinned, obviously pleased at the thought. “No.”
The grin faded. “Ass.”
“Could be.”
Danger jerked his gaze away from an errant trail of water trickling down her throat, watched it slide between her—he cleared his throat. “Stay here,” he ordered, and wrenched a pair of binoculars from the saddlebag.
She watched Pagan lope off to the outer edge of the bent and gnarled trees. “That wolf doesn’t hang around long.”
“He never has. He just likes to drop by and let me know he’s near.”
Danger brushed past her. “I’ll be right back.”
Grimness settled over Danger as he climbed the rocky rise jutting off to his right. He squinted through binoculars, searching the land that stretched endlessly before him. Hell, there were hundreds of places a man could conceal himself. There were too many outcroppings of rock that made a perfect blind. They could ride into a trap and never see it coming.
He lowered the binoculars then abruptly jerked them back to his eyes. Sonofabitch! There in the distance, a faint cloud of smoke rose above the treetops then dissipated.
Danger lowered the binoculars. So what? That didn’t prove a thing. He would have been more surprised not to find a sign of life on Jace’s land. There had to be ranch hands camped out checking fences and searching for calves dropped early by their mamas.
But maybe this was the man Lacey claimed was after her. If it was, then he’d somehow circled around them and was miles ahead of them. He didn’t know which was worse, having someone at his back or someone in front lying in wait for the right moment to strike.
Danger turned to retrace his footsteps and swore softly. There she was, standing right behind him as if she was connected to his shadow. She flashed an impudent grin at him and held a hand to her forehead, searching the hazy distance. “Did you see anything?” she asked.
“Smoke. Need these?” A trace of sarcasm touched his voice as he held the binoculars out to her.
Lacey hesitated.
“Be my guest,” he said sourly. “Hell, you might as well.”
“Thanks.” Lacey grabbed the glasses and held them to her eyes and ignored his pettiness. “Is that smoke? Really smoke? Yes. It is. Isn’t it?”
Hell’s bells, in another moment she’d be jumping up and down in her excitement. Danger gave a sigh of defeat. “Yes. I told you I saw smoke. It’s real.”
“I wish I had a gun, I’d go down there,” she replied ruthlessly. “I’d make him pay for what he did.”
Danger’s lips tightened. He jerked the binoculars from her hand and slapped the butt of his revolver in her palm. “Go ahead. Do your worst. But Princess, you better be damn sure of what you’re doing. Ranch hands camp out here. Hunters camp. Hikers hike. Sometimes, even freelance photographers go where they shouldn’t.”
Lacey pressed a hand across his mouth. “All right, I get the picture, no pun intended.” Her lips turned down at the corners as the heavy gun wobbled in her hand. She held it toward him, barrel pointing to the ground. “I don’t want this thing,” she said.
“Lady, you sure as hell want something. And if you keep coming on to me, you’re going to get it.”
“It?” She blinked at him, then her eyes widened as she understood his meaning. “I don’t want it.”
“Apparently you do,” he snapped. “Every blessed time I look around you’re underfoot. You attach yourself to me like a. . . a damned leech. You can’t keep your hot little hands off my zipper or away from my crotch. I’m giving you this one last warning. Give me some breathing space and stay the hell away from me!”
Lowering her hand, Lacey let the gun hang uselessly at her side. “As you wish,” she said quietly.
Danger stopped at the bottom, pausing to listen to the sound of Lacey’s boots slipping and sliding on the loose rock behind him. He looped his way around Diablo, his mind tortured with images of Lacey lying naked beneath his thrusting body.
The soft thud and mild shriek he heard made him pause for an instant, but he didn’t have to see first hand to know what had happened. His mouth split into a wide grin. She’d landed on her shapely ass. Maybe it would teach her to do what he told her. Right! The woman was never going to listen to a thing he said. He’d lost track of the times she ignored his orders or warnings.
“Thanks for the help,” she yelled. “Such a gentleman.”
Danger ignored her outburst and moved to the other side of Diablo and loosened the cinch. And he waited patiently for Lacey to catch up with him. She’d just found firm footing on solid ground when he glanced up and saw her skid to a halt. Her eyes widened. Her jaw gaped. She stood there as still as a statue.
“What is it?” Danger circled Diablo, then froze as he heard the low, soft whir of a rattlesnake. The blasted thing was mere inches from her booted foot. “Better not move,” he warned.
“It’s a snake,” she squeaked.
Didn’t the woman know
he had enough sense to see the damned thing?
She took a shaky step back. Loose rock slid forward. The snake reared its triangular head. Rattles buzzed furiously. Definitely, the rattler was in a snit at having its hunting ground invaded.
“Lacey. Dammit, don’t move!”
The vibration of the rattles grew louder. More ominous. Danger felt his throat tighten with fear. The faint whimpering sounds escaping Lacey sent chills up his spine.
“Don’t move,” he repeated in a softer tone. “Please.”
Lacey’s slender arms trembled, and she backed up another step, unable to bring herself to obey his order not to move. “I can’t stand snakes,” she breathed.
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