In The Arms Of Danger

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In The Arms Of Danger Page 25

by Jaydyn Chelcee


  Danger groaned and locked his fingers in her hair as he eased his tongue past her lips and tasted the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. He took his time, sipping and deep stroking until his body ached and she was climbing into his lap, moaning, giving back as good as she got.

  Slowly, he retreated, freeing her lips. He flashed a devilish grin at her and arched a brow suggestively. “Like I said, lady, I’m not going to be able to wait much longer.”

  Lacey’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. “Oh,” she murmured faintly.

  She discovered she was clutching his shirt with trembling fingers and somehow, she’d ended up in his lap. He didn’t bother to hide the fact his erection throbbed against her butt. She squirmed, rubbing against him like a cat in heat.

  “Don’t sweetheart,” he said huskily. “I want you too, but we can’t, not now.”

  Very gently, he removed her hands, giving them a light squeeze as he searched her eyes for answers to questions that hadn’t yet been voiced.

  “I can’t wait much longer, either,” she said faintly.

  And there was her answer. She didn’t care if he knew she wanted him, too.

  Danger slid his gaze over her mouth, lingering for a charged moment. God, he would like nothing better than to slowly nibble his way down, starting at her luscious mouth and stopping at her slender, pink toes. He wanted to taste all the secret hills and shadowy valleys in between. By God, he would, too.

  His mouth suddenly felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He couldn’t swallow past the dryness. “Another time, little cat, I could do quite well by you,” he breathed. He drew in a ragged breath. “Just do as I tell you,” he ordered huskily then sat her aside and turned away. Ducking for cover as the first bullet ricocheted around him, he belly-crawled out of sight.

  “Shoot!” he yelled back over his shoulder.

  Zigzagging across the rocky ground, he rose to his feet, but kept low, ducking behind boulders as he ran. Lacey flinched as she saw dirt poof up near his moccasins. She rested the rifle she held in her hands on the boulder she was behind and squeezed the trigger. The rifle barrel jerked spasmodically, but at least she got the shot off.

  A second later Danger disappeared into the deepening darkness. The killer returned fire at her. Bullets sprayed dirt and rock in myriad bursts of granules near her head. She ducked, pinned down for infinite seconds.

  Cautiously, Lacey peeked over the ridge of boulders. Stiffening her shoulders, she aimed the rifle at the flashes of orange light spewing from the gun now being fired in the direction Danger had disappeared in. She squeezed the rifle’s trigger and kept firing until the gun clicked on empty.

  Fear, so tangible she could nearly taste it, crept over her. Nausea filled her stomach and bubbled like a geyser. It rolled across her insides in a greasy mixture that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  She peeked over the boulders, searching desperately, hoping to catch a glimpse, but Danger was nowhere in sight. A tormented cry died in the back of her throat. She sat back against the boulder and prayed he would be all right.

  “God, let him come back to me. Please, just let him come back to me.”

  Lacey pressed trembling fingertips to her lips and thought of the hungry kiss he’d pressed there. It had been so full of promise, so heated. So demanding.

  And what was that he’d said about not being able to wait? And oh, God, what had she said back to him? She’d given him the green light, hadn’t she?

  Did he mean what she thought he meant or had she misunderstood?

  Heat scalded her cheeks. She didn’t think she’d misunderstood him at all. He was a difficult man, complicated to the nth degree, but she knew she’d read the stormy desire in his eyes, the intent, the promise and silent warning correctly. He was through flirting, through playing games.

  Indeed, she believed he could do quite well by her, too. And she didn’t doubt for a moment he had every intention of doing exactly that. Her nerves tingled in anticipation.

  He would have her. She was very much afraid she had no objections to his possession.

  If one could get past the damnable walls he kept erecting, he just might be the kind of man a woman could depend on, perhaps even win his love. His trust.

  Lacey muttered, prayed, and waited.

  Time seemed to stand still. Seconds passed and turned into agonizing, nerve racking minutes. The night deepened around her. The campfire settled into glowing embers, an occasional snap and crackle filled the air from the dying coals.

  Desperation and fear mingled. Her chest tightened, choking off her air. She inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly. Lacey brought her knees up and tucked them under her chin. She tapped her bare feet on the ground. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and she glared at Danger’s rifle with seething hostility. Empty, the thing lying useless beside her. If Danger was dead, she would have no weapon left at her disposal.

  And if he needs my help?

  She shuddered, afraid she would fail him.

  They would both be at the mercy of that man. And dear God, she knew he had none.

  Dammit, where is Danger? He’d been gone way too long.

  A shot echoed, snapping the eerie silence with a sharp pop.

  Lacey’s head jerked up like a puppet on a string. She rose up and looked over the boulder toward the rocky ledges in the distance. Gunshots blasted in rapid succession. Powpowpow. Lacey flinched with each echo, shuddered with dread of the potential disaster that loomed like a black cloud. Somewhere up there, Danger gambled with death. For her.

  Oh, God, why does it have to be this way?

  She crossed her fingers and cursed the childlike, superstitious action, but she couldn’t bring herself to uncross them. The very thought of Danger dead or dying, felled by the killer’s bullets, sent shudders through her.

  Damn him for leaving me alone like this.

  She sat back down behind the boulder and waited. Tears slid down her cheeks unchecked. She waited. Nerves jangled. Heart hammered. Feet tapped. Sweat popped out over her brow and upper lip. Her palms grew moist. Moments passed with infinite slowness. Lungs ached, starved for air. She drew a sharp breath, rocked back and forth. And still. . .she waited some more.

  Lacey rose to her feet and peered over the boulder in the direction of the sniper. It was too damned dark to see anything. Silence settled around her, so thick she thought she would choke if something didn’t happen to break it. Chill bumps raced up and down her spine. The hair on the back of her neck quivered.

  Dear God, where is he?

  If Danger was lying up there in those hills wounded and needing her help, she was powerless to give him that help. She slid back down onto the rough ground. Her legs felt too shaky to hold her up another moment.

  God, at this very second, that horrible killer could be creeping up on me.

  The hand that lightly touched her shoulder sent a chill down her spine. A strangled cry leapt from her throat as she spun around in the loose dirt and took a wild swing at the dark shadow lurking over her.

  “Sshh, it’s all right. It’s me.”

  Danger’s voice soothed as he cupped her face between his hands. His touch slid over her delicate features, acquainting his fingertips with the contours of her face, the fragile network of bone. Lacey shivered and pressed her face against his chest.

  “It’s all right, honey. He’s gone.”

  “Damn you,” she cried, lifting a fist to beat angrily at his chest. “Do you have any idea how scared I was? I thought you were dead!”

  A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “No such luck. You’re still my captive.” He released her, moving to place wood on the fire. He searched through one of the bags from the pack horse. Removing several items, he tossed them to her. “There’s soap, towels, even a bottle of shampoo. I’ll heat you some water in a pot and you can wash.”

  Lacey hesitated. “What’s to stop him from doubling back?”

  “Pagan.”

  Lacey snorted. “The wolf? He high-tailed it after th
e first gunshot.”

  Danger grinned. “Nah, honey. He just ducked for cover like we did. He’s out there, guarding the camp. Nothing will get past him.”

  She nodded. At least knowing Pagan guarded their campsite made her feel better.

  “What about a bath for you?”

  “While you’re bathing, I’ll heat more water for me and then I’ll wash up.”

  He grabbed his rifle from her and shoved cartridges in it. “Just in case our friend decides to return.” Danger grabbed her hand and turned her toward the tent. “Scoot. I’ll bring you the water when it’s ready.”

  Lacey stared helplessly at him.

  “What? You said you wished you could take a long, hot bath. I can’t provide you with a tub, but you can at least feel clean.”

  “But—”

  “But what?” he asked. A puzzled look swept across his face. “I went chasing after him to speed him on his way so you could have a bath. Are you now saying you don’t want one?”

  “But you were supposed to catch him, not chase him away,” she declared.

  “I’ll catch him later,” he answered, confidence in his words. “Right now he seems to have plenty of ammunition, water, and food. But it won’t last. I’ll overtake him eventually.”

  “It’s not the time to say so, but you’ve been wrong before,” she quipped, a tiny dimple appearing at the corner of her top lip.

  He had the sudden urge to touch his tongue to that sweet curve. To nibble. To taste her sweetness. “Was I wrong about you wanting a bath?” he asked huskily.

  “No. I’m dying for a bath. Where will you be while I’m bathing?”

  “Watering the horses, making another pot of coffee, and heating more water, I won’t glance your way a single time. I promise.”

  “Pity,” Lacey muttered.

  Danger grinned.

  Lacey paused just outside the tent. She suddenly remembered she’d been wearing one of his shirts when she’d regained consciousness.

  Only a shirt.

  Of course, she was wearing only a shirt now, but she’d dressed herself.

  Heat scalded her face. She whirled, flashing him an accusing glare. He stared back, clearly puzzled. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  Lacey spun around, turning her back to him. That sneaky, low-down, silvertongued devil, he’d seen her naked! Totally naked. Why hadn’t she thought about it sooner? Ho, probably because she’d had the headache from hell and hadn’t had her wits about her. She’d figured he’d sneaked a few peeks, but not the entire enchilada.

  Heat flooded her face.

  What’s wrong, indeed?

  What was she going to do? To say?

  What could she say?

  How could she face him?

  He’d seen her in all her glory. Well, maybe not so glorious the sad shape she’d been in, but he’d seen her.

  Had he touched her?

  A shiver coiled down her spine. Surely he hadn’t taken advantage of an unconscious woman. Had he?

  No, of course not. He wouldn’t do that. He was a sheriff. A man of the law. A man of honor. A man.

  One, who’d, most certainly gotten an eyeful, the rat!

  She heard the crunch of his moccasins as he started to her. Panic and embarrassment slammed into her. “I’m—fine! I—I—I’m just so tired of all—of everything,” she blurted, grasping for anything to say that would halt his progress toward her. She glanced at him over her shoulder.

  He was looking at her as if she’d lost her mind. Then his eyes darkened, softened. Flames settled in the silver softness. Lacey barely stifled a groan. She felt like a juicy piece of meat, and he was coming to devour her. The fiend!

  “You can trust me, little cat,” he said softly.

  His voice sounded wistful, uncertain. That wasn’t like the man she’d come to know. He was handling her with kid gloves. He didn’t have a clue what she’d realized, but he knew what he’d done, the beast.

  Mumbling beneath his breath, he said patiently, “Sweetheart, I would never harm you. Trust me.”

  Trust him?

  Lacey snorted. Not in this lifetime, buster. The sonof—

  “I know,” she replied. She filled her voice with sugary sweetness.

  She would get her revenge. But what could she do to him to pay him back? Never mind. She’d think of something.

  Lacey sighed as it suddenly hit her that yes, she could trust him. She’d trusted him with her life for quite awhile now. Deep in her heart she knew this man had earned her trust. But that same inner voice whispered, “But what if your heart is wrong?”

  For a long moment Danger watched her, hands fisted on his hips. Shrugging, he turned and walked away. “Women,” he mumbled.

  Lacey stepped inside the tent and released the flaps. “I’ll just leave it unzipped until you bring me the water,” she called out.

  If Danger heard, he didn’t bother to reply.

  If he hadn’t placed a lantern in the tent earlier, Lacey figured it would be like stepping inside a tomb. Instead, it was all nice, warm and cozy. She tugged the shirt off over her head and tossed it in a corner. The cool night air brushed across her nipples causing them to harden. She imagined Danger’s mouth on her breasts.

  She jumped when he called her name just outside the tent. “Lacey, I have your water. Two pots. One for washing and the other for rinsing.”

  Lacey peeked through the flaps, her fingers curled along the edges to hold them together. “Sit them on the ground and turn your back.”

  He sighed, but set the pots of water down and walked away. “Don’t take all night. It’s getting late and we need to get some rest. We have to put as much distance between us and that sniper as we can tomorrow. That means riding hard.”

  Lacey grabbed the water and set it in the far corner away from the bedding. She moaned as she ran the lathered cloth over her skin.

  “What’s wrong?” Danger called from outside.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then don’t moan. I’ll think something’s wrong and come to your rescue.”

  Lacey lathered the washcloth and stifled a moan as she rubbed it over her bare shoulders. It felt wonderful. The warm cloth broke the chill that had touched her skin when she’d stripped. She’d be glad when they finally did get to her campsite. She had clean clothes there, clean underwear.

  A frown darkened her face as she lathered soap on her body. Just what had Danger done with the underwear he’d removed from her when she’d been barely conscious? She hadn’t found her panties when she’d slipped into the cut-off shorts he’d flung at her. He hadn’t said and she hadn’t asked at the time, but now she wondered. And her bra was missing too. Had he burned them?

  As she washed her breasts, she paused, removing the leather tie from her hair and loosening the braid, then she poured the orange-scented shampoo into her palm and lathered it in her hair. A slight smile played at her mouth. Orange. How odd that a man as masculine as Danger would select orange-scented shampoo to bring along on what was essentially a manhunt. Had he done it for her?

  Once her hair was scrubbed clean, Lacey tossed the bottle of shampoo to the side and rinsed the fragrant suds from her hair. It wasn’t easy getting enough water on her hair from what was basically a small pot, but she managed. Once she was dressed in another one of Danger’s clean shirts, she tied back the flaps of the tent.

  “Danger?”

  He was squatted in front of the fire sipping coffee. At the sound of her voice, he jerked to his feet, his hand making an automatic gesture for the revolver he usually wore at his hip, but was now tucked into the holster draped across a nearby boulder.

  When he realized it was Lacey and not the man who had shot at them, he uttered a soft curse. He captured her arm in a fierce grip. “Don’t ever do that,” he ordered.

  “I’m sorry!” Lacey gasped, tugging her arm free. “What is wrong with you?”

  She stood fiercely proud, her chin tilted in defiance, though he detected a faint tremor i
n it. She was upset with his attack. Well, by God she’d be more upset if he shot her by accident.

  But he couldn’t blame her for his mind wandering. Being lost in his thoughts could get them both killed. He didn’t think she realized that, but he damn sure did. “No, I’m sorry,” he said soothingly. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Forgive me?”

  The scent of soap and tangy orange wafted to his nostrils. He narrowed his eyes, shielding the sudden rush of desire flooding his senses. Damn Coe for packing that shampoo. He must have raided Anna Leigh’s supply of shampoo.

 

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