Forbidden Captor
Page 22
In the meantime, Colonel Murphy had summoned the bounty hunters together to discuss their options. As far as Bryce was concerned, there were no options. “Just let me take the damn thing off her.”
Trevor Blackhaw was a steadier presence at the moment. “You sure you can disarm it without killing her or yourself?”
“Do you see anyone else around here who can?”
“Nobody’s questioning your skills, Sarge. But there’s a little objectivity missing here.”
Screw objectivity. Bryce wanted Tasiya to be safe. He wanted her in his arms. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her and that he would move heaven and earth to make things right for her in this world. They’d find her father. They’d get Boone Fowler. He’d teach her everything he knew about loving her, and then, together, they’d learn some more.
Colonel Murphy tapped his cane against the table to get their attention. “We can use this as an opportunity to put Fowler right where we want him.”
“Nobody’s using Tasiya,” Bryce insisted. “Ever again.”
Theoretically, the plan Murphy outlined made sense. Fowler’s hot button was Cameron Murphy and Big Sky. They could use that to their advantage to get Fowler to make a mistake. “He wants us dead? Let’s oblige him. We all have safe houses across the country. We could evacuate Big Sky, then blow the place to smithereens. If he thinks we’re all gone, he’ll make a move.”
Riley Watson, also known as Craig O’Riley and a dozen other aliases, leaned forward. His body was still recovering from the injuries he’d received while incarcerated, but there wasn’t a thing wrong with that crackerjack mind of his. “When Fowler took us prisoner, he told me he had no use for hippies and shaved my head, he’s seen me with a lot of hair and none at all. I believe I can alter my appearance enough that I could stay in the area without him recognizing me. As far as Fowler’s concerned I’ll be presumed dead like the rest of you.”
Murphy nodded. “You could infiltrate the militia itself. Since we just put twenty-nine of his men back into prison, he’ll be looking for new recruits.”
“We’ll bring him down from the inside.”
Bryce scraped his hand across his jaw. “I want Boone Fowler dead or in prison as much as any man here. But I will not let you use Tasiya to do it.”
A hushed sigh turned his attention to the two women who’d just joined them. Tasiya wore the same game smile she’d used when they’d been plotting their escape from Devil’s Fork Island.
“What if I volunteer?”
“TALK TO ME, Bryce Martin.”
Tasiya looked down to the top of Bryce’s well-shaped head as he knelt in front of her, diligently working to remove the armed vest she wore without setting off the bomb. She sat in a chair in the middle of a secluded room with reinforced walls.
Everyone else she’d met today, the good men of Big Sky, were bustling around, packing things, carrying them into a secret tunnel that led into the mountains. From there they would go their separate ways, undetected, and hide out until Riley Watson contacted them. Once the vest was removed, she hoped she and Bryce would escape through that tunnel together.
She stroked her fingers through Bryce’s short, crisp hair, urging him to look at her. She thought she’d be more frightened than this, sitting with her numb thumb taped to the trigger of a bomb. But Bryce was with her. His agile fingers seemed to know exactly what to do. His quiet strength provided an emotional rock to latch on to.
But she needed to hear his voice. Like those quiet nights inside his cell. His voice had given her hope. He’d instilled her with pride. He’d allowed her to dream and he’d made her feel safe. But most of all he’d made her feel special. She mattered to Bryce Martin. Until Bryce, she’d never believed she would matter to any man except her father.
His big shoulders shrugged, apparently healing now since the movement didn’t seem to cause him undue pain. “Whaddya wanna talk about?”
“Anything. If it will not distract you from your work.”
“Nah, honey.” He lifted his wintry eyes to hers. “You’re easy to talk to.”
Tasiya smiled at the compliment. “Tell me more about your Ozarks.”
He resumed his work. “The fishin’s great there. The lakes and rivers are full of bass and catfish.” He picked up the trigger and pulled the tape off her thumb, his nod telling her it was now safe to release it. He paused a moment to rub the circulation back into her hand. “You know how to cook a catfish? Breaded? Deep-fried? Or smoked on the grill?”
“I can cook fish. Why is it called a cat fish?”
He touched his callused fingertip to either side of her mouth. “‘Cause it’s got whiskers.”
He reached for a pair of surgical-looking scissors and began to cut through the vest’s webbed material. “I inherited my grandpa’s cabin in the hills near Table Rock Lake. It’s built of logs, but it’s not really a cabin. It’s got three bedrooms and a basement, and a porch that goes clear across the front that has a view of nothin’ but trees and water.”
“It sounds beautiful.”
“You should come see it sometime. You could sleep in a real bed. I’d love to make love to you on a set of clean sheets and see what you could whip up in the kitchen.” Tasiya caught her breath. She dug her fingers into his shoulder. Was that an invitation?
“No whipping. Please.” She hesitated to hope, in case she’d misunderstood. “You want me to come to your home in Missouri?”
“I’ll teach ya how to fish. Your daddy, too.”
“Papa?” What did Bryce know about Anton?
Bryce clipped through the bottom of the vest, then set aside the scissors. He took her hands and pulled her to her feet. “We’ve gotten word that the troops have taken over the Ministry of Finance Building in St. Feodor. Apparently, your daddy wasn’t the only hostage being held there. There are several of Lukinburg citizens in military custody now, en route to a base in Germany. I asked Powell to get us some names.”
“Papa is coming to America?” Tasiya jumped onto her tiptoes and reached for Bryce.
“Whoa, whoa.” He caught her by the wrists and urged her to remain still until he had the vest removed. But she danced inside her boots, waiting impatiently for him to explain. “If that’s what he wants. I’ve got a spare room in Missouri he could bunk in.”
Tasiya curled her fingers into the front of Bryce’s shirt and pretended she was strong enough to shake him. “Bryce Martin, you must speak in English. What are you saying to me?”
In answer, he smiled. Then he palmed the back of her head and kissed her. It was a quick, hot, soul-stealing kiss that left her shaking. “You understand that, honey?”
And then he left her. He took the vest and his tools and left her.
Before her knees gave way, Tasiya sank into the chair. Understand what? She needed a dictionary. Fast.
TASIYA FLINCHED against Bryce as he counted down. “Four, three, two, one.” The explosion’s report jarred the air around them. Even at this distance, hidden more than a mile away in the abandoned miner’s shack Bryce had used as a lookout point, he could see the satisfying evidence of his handiwork. The vehicles they’d left in the garage had caught fire, and splinters were still rainin’ down and kickin’ up a cloud of snow and debris that engulfed the air where the Big Sky building used to be.
“Like clockwork.” Bryce turned off the cell phone he’d used to remote-trigger the explosion and slipped it into his pocket. “We are all now unofficially dead.”
“I’m not going to miss that building as much as I thought.” Colonel Murphy lowered his binoculars and shook Bryce’s hand. “Nice job, Sarge.” He nodded to Tasiya. “Miss Belov. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
Tasiya seemed surprised to be included in the congratulations. “You are welcome, Mr. Murphy. Good luck with your plan.”
“Thanks.” He snugged his arm around his wife and headed for the shack’s door. “Men? Watch your backs. Lie low. I’ll see you later.”
With a f
riendly cacophony of handshakes and back slaps and goodbyes, the others left, taking off in different directions, each heading for his own safe house. Riley Watson was headed back to Ponderosa to assume a new cover, while Trevor Blackhaw was headed for Idaho. Soon Jacob Powell was the only man left, and he was sharing an animated conversation on his cell phone.
“You’re sure about that? I’ll pass along the good news. Oh, yeah, babe. That’s right. You’ll be the first thing on my list tonight.”
He was grinnin’ like the Cheshire Cat when he disconnected and pocketed his phone. He was waitin’ for Bryce to ask. “What?”
“I just heard from Isabella.” Powell’s fiancée was a Secret Service agent with some definite D.C. connections. “She’s accessed a list of freed Lukinburg hostage names. Does Anton Belov ring a bell?”
“Papa?” Tasiya’s face lit up. Her smile brightened the entire dingy shack. “Papa is free?”
Powell grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you. Thank you.”
She looped her arms around Powell’s neck, and for one unguarded moment, Bryce had the urge to punch his buddy in the nose. But the stab of jealousy quickly vanished. Hell, if he could get his grandparents or his parents back, he’d be huggin’ on Powell, too.
Besides, Tasiya shared the love. She released Powell and walked right into Bryce’s arms, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him. Tight. He hugged her right back.
“Oh, Bryce, that is such wonderful news.”
“Yep, honey. Nobody’s holdin’ anything over you now.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You are finally and officially a free woman.”
She leaned back against the circle of his arms and lifted those beautiful, star-kissed eyes to his. A shimmer of tears glistened against their dark color, and Bryce’s thumb was there to wipe away the first one when it spilled over. “You have made me free, Bryce Martin. Not just from blackmail and evil men. But in my heart and in my dreams.”
“Tasiya—”
She pressed a finger against his lips to silence him. “Earlier this afternoon you said something to me. Sometimes, because of my language, I miss something. I want to be sure I completely understand.”
“Just talk to me. I’ll answer.”
Tasiya smiled. “I love you. And I think that you love me, too. But when you invited me to your home—”
“I meant for forever.”
“Forever?”
“If that’s what you want.” He framed her face between his big hands and tunneled his fingers into her hair. “It’s what I want. I love you, Tasiya Belov.”
Damn. He’d said it. Out loud.
And it felt right. It didn’t hurt.
Not when she smiled at him like that.
Not when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Like he was a man. Not a monster. Like she loved him. Like she’d love him forever.
Bryce buried his hands in her hair. “Will you marry me, Tasiya? Will you come see the Ozarks with me?”
“I will go to the Ozarks, or stay in the mountains, or even go back to that horrible prison—as long as I can be with you, Bryce Martin.”
“So is that a yes?”
She grinned and articulated her lips around one sweet word. “Yep.”
Bryce scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around.
Powell cleared his throat. “Well, um, yes. I’ll just be going. I have a fiancèe at home who needs kissing.”
“Good idea.” Bryce opened the door.
“I could stay, though, big guy, if you need me for backup?”
“Go away, Powell.” Without releasing Tasiya, Bryce shoved his friend’s face out the door and shut it behind him. “I’ve got my own woman to kiss.”
He pulled her up into his arms and covered her lips with his own.
No matter how tough—or easy—the job was, Bryce Martin was the man to get it done.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Julie Miller for her contribution to the BIG SKY BOUNTY HUNTERS series.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6757-6
FORBIDDEN CAPTOR
Copyright © 2005 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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