by Linda Turner
“Highway robbery!” she retorted. “You’re crackers!”
Making no effort to hold back a grin, he said, “How very British of you. Maybe we should start a new rule. All money goes in the till. If there’s any left when this is all over, we split it fifty-fifty.”
“Good idea,” she replied. “I’ve got my contribution. Where’s yours?”
Amused, he lifted a brow. “Excuse me? Have you forgotten my pickup and camper? I sold them to save your neck.”
“But you bought a car. Is that half mine?”
“Of course not!”
“So what’s mine is half yours but what’s yours is all yours?” she challenged, fighting a smile. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“Works for me,” he said and chuckled. “What’s wrong with that?”
Laughing, she threw a five dollar bill at him. “There’s your fifty percent.”
When he grinned and tucked it into his pocket, Priscilla felt her heart skip a beat. He was such a tease, and he had no idea what the wicked amusement flashing in his eyes did to her. Every time he’d looked up from the grill to smile at her, every time his husky, masculine voice reached out to stroke her as he joked with Harry or one of the customers seated at the counter, every nerve ending in her body tingled in response. What had he done to her? she wondered, shaken. She knew nothing about his past, how many women there’d been, if there was one now, and that should have bothered her. Instead, she just wanted him to kiss her again, make love to her again.
She was in big big trouble.
“You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” he said gruffly. “You all right?”
She should have said yes. She should have said anything but what popped out of her mouth. “Actually, I was wondering if you’ve ever been married.”
He didn’t so much as blink. “No.”
Just no. No more, no less. Sitting back in her chair, she frowned across the table at him. “That’s it? No? No, you were never even tempted? No, but you had your chances? No, you asked her but she said no? Which is it? What’s your history?”
For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to answer her. He hesitated, considering his words, then muttered, “No, I asked and she said yes.”
That surprised her. “Then where is she?”
“I asked her before everything went south with my job. When I went to prison, she broke things off. It turns out she had an aversion to marrying a man with a prison record,” he said flatly. “I can’t understand why. Guess she was a snob.”
“But you were framed! If she loved you, how could she not know that you were innocent? What kind of moron was she?”
“What makes you think she was wrong?”
She gave him a withering glance. “Save it,” she retorted. “You’re not that kind of man.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because you’re not!” she snapped, stung. “Anybody with any brains knows that. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty rescuing me from my kidnappers. You didn’t have to do that. You could have taken Buck’s money and never really looked for me. He would have never known the difference.”
“Maybe not,” he acknowledged. “But I would have.”
“Which is my point exactly,” she said promptly. “You’re an honorable man. If your fiancée didn’t know that, then she didn’t have any business accepting your proposal to begin with.”
“She chose to believe the lies instead of the man she claimed to love. So much for happily ever after, huh?”
He hadn’t trusted a woman since and didn’t plan to. He didn’t say the words, but she heard him loud and clear. He didn’t plan to ever get mixed up with a woman again, at least not in anything that involved trust and commitment; and she couldn’t blame him.
She should have been pleased. After all, the only thing she was interested in at this point in her life was finishing her internship and starting her career. Getting into design school had been tough—making the grade even tougher. It would take a hell of a lot of hard work to succeed in a business where the greats were known by one name. She wouldn’t risk years of study and a dream she’d had since childhood for a man.
But there was something about Donovan, something that clicked between them every time their eyes met. And it scared the hell out of her. How could she be tempted by a man who wanted nothing to do with commitment?”
Chapter 10
Frustrated, confused, she needed some time to herself to think, to consider her options and decide what she was going to do; but that was next to impossible when they were in a motel room that was hardly bigger than the inside of a large SUV. She couldn’t go for a walk or a drive without him insisting on going with her to protect her, so she was left with only one choice. “I’m beat,” she told him. “I think I’ll take a bath and turn in early. I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
The second the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to sink right through the floor. He didn’t say a word, but then again, he didn’t have to. In the time it took for his eyes to meet hers, they were both thinking about last night and the bliss they’d found in each other’s arms.
Heat climbing in her cheeks, she turned away, only to frown when she saw the towels hanging on the towel rack outside the bathroom door. “Looks like you’re going to have to air dry,” she told him. “The maid only left one set of clean towels when she cleaned the room this morning.”
Rolling his eyes, he growled, “It figures. Go ahead and use what we’ve got. I’ll go get some more.”
Grabbing the old-fashioned brass key, he headed for the office, giving Priscilla the time to herself she’d thought she so desperately needed. But as the silence closed around her and she sank into her solitary bath a few minutes later, Donovan was right there in her thoughts, whispering in her ear, reminding her that she wasn’t going to be able to avoid him for long—the room only had one bed and they were sharing it.
Swearing softly at the thought, she told herself that tonight there wasn’t going to be a replay of last night. She wasn’t making love with him. Not yet. Possibly never again. She had to have a better handle on her emotions, had to know that when this was all over, life returned to normal, and they walked away from each other, he didn’t take her heart with him.
She’d always considered herself pretty tough when it came to protecting herself. But when she finished her bath and stepped out of the bathroom, Donovan was stretched out on his stomach in the middle of the bed, sound asleep with his head cushioned on the towels he’d gotten at the motel office. Stopping in her tracks, she felt her heart turn over. How could the man look so incredibly sexy when he was asleep, for heaven’s sake? It wasn’t fair that he could steal her breath and make her weak at the knees at one and the same time, and he wasn’t even aware of it!
Not sure if she was irritated or relieved, she almost woke him to tell him to quit hogging the bed, but it had been a long day for both of them, and he was obviously exhausted. And did she really want to wake him, anyway? If she crawled in beside him, he wouldn’t even know she was there. What was the harm?
The matter settled, she slipped under the covers and stretched out on the sliver of space he’d left her on the side of the mattress. Almost immediately, the masculine scent of him surrounded her, teasing her senses and stirring memories of last night. Every instinct she had warned her this was a mistake. Making love with him could so easily become a wonderful, addictive habit that she might not be able to walk away from. But she was so tired, and keeping her eyes open was becoming more impossible by the second. She’d just lie here a moment and rest her eyes, she promised herself sleepily. Then she’d kick Donovan out of the bed and have it all to herself. Images flashed before her closed eyes at the thought, drawing a smile from her. She was still smiling when she fell asleep.
Donovan had always considered himself a man who never let down his guard, especially when he was on a job. He slept with one eye—and one ear—open at all times, and he took pride i
n the fact that no one had ever snuck up on him. So even when he was dead to the world, no one was more surprised than he when he felt a soft, feminine body snuggle close.
His eyes flew open, but he didn’t move so much as a muscle. Where the hell was he? And who was hugging him like a teddy bear?
Then it hit him. Priscilla. A smile tugged at his mouth. He’d gone to the office for towels, but she was still in the bathtub when he returned, so he’d lain down while he waited for her. He didn’t even remember falling asleep, let alone her coming out of the bathroom and crawling into bed with him. He must have been completely out of it.
He wasn’t, however, asleep now, he silently acknowledged as she burrowed closer. He was wide awake, and she was boneless against him, with her face buried against his chest. Totally unaware of how she’d unconsciously sought his body warmth, she slept like the dead. And with every soft breath she expelled against the sensitive skin of his neck and chest, she heated his blood.
If he’d had any sense, he’d put some space between them, then find a way to go back to sleep. But he was only human, and with her so close, he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of pulling away. She just felt too good.
Later, he couldn’t say when he knew she was awake. One minute, she was practically snoring, and the next, she stiffened ever so slightly. He could almost read her mind as she realized she was pressed up against him and she didn’t have a clue how she’d gotten there.
Almost immediately, she started to withdraw, but his arms tightened around her before she could pull away. “Don’t,” he said huskily. “You’re fine right where you are.”
“We can’t be lovers,” she murmured.
“We already are.”
“Just once. We don’t have to compound the mistake.”
“Who said it was a mistake?” he challenged. “I thought it was great.”
When she hesitated, silence stretched between them like eternity. Not sure if he should be insulted or amused, Donovan didn’t think she was going to respond at all when she suddenly said quietly, “It was.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“We’re not friends.”
She’d left the bathroom light on and the door slightly ajar, and in the dim light, she could see the wicked glint of amusement in his eyes even though he tried to adopt a hurt look at her words. “You don’t like me?”
Biting back a smile, she said, “I didn’t say that.”
“You said we’re not friends. Personally, I don’t know how you can say that. I can make you laugh and protect you from the bad guys and take you all over the world. And when you need to be kissed, I kiss you,” he added. “What more could you want?”
She lifted a brow at that. “You kiss me when I need to be kissed?”
“Absolutely,” he said, and leaned close to softly brush her lips with his.
When he pulled back slightly and smiled into her eyes, he melted her heart. “Donovan—”
“Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t do this.”
What was she supposed to say to that? “Because…”
He kissed the side of her neck, and that was as far as she got. Her thoughts scrambled, and she couldn’t stop herself from sighing in pleasure. “I can’t think when you do that.”
“I know,” he said, and kissed her again. “If you come up with something, though, feel free to speak up.”
She tried, but how was she supposed to think when he could disarm her with just a kiss? A touch? His hands trailed over her, tracing her curves, and suddenly, she was aching for the feel of his skin against hers. With a murmur, she reached for the buttons of his shirt, the snap of his jeans.
“You have too many clothes on,” she complained. “Why did you go to bed with your jeans on? That can’t be comfortable.”
His hands one step ahead of hers, he dealt with the buttons on his shirt while she was still dealing with the snap on his jeans. “I just lay down to wait for you to get out of the bathroom,” he reminded her as he set her hands from him and stepped from the bed, but only long enough to strip out of his clothes. “The next thing I knew, I was out like a light.”
Slipping back into bed, he reached for her. “Now that we have that settled, I have a question.”
How could he expect her to answer questions when he was naked in bed and touching her? she wondered, melting against him. When he traced the strap of her nightgown across her shoulder to the neckline and across the top of her breasts, she couldn’t breathe, let alone concentrate.
When her only answer was a soft moan, he growled, “Are you particularly attached to this gown?”
Lost to everything but the feel of him under her hands and mouth, she kissed the side of his neck. “What gown?”
His chuckle turned into a groan as she kissed her way up his neck and nibbled on his ear. “Witch,” he rasped, and pulled her gown over her head and sent it flying across the room. A split second later, he grabbed her and rolled with her on the bed.
Her laughter mingled with his, but as he rolled to a stop with her on top, her breath caught in her throat as his fingers reached for her breasts. Need tightened deep in her belly, sweet and hot, and she shuddered.
He didn’t have to ask what his touch did to her—he could feel it, see it in her eyes. And she had no idea what that did to him. There were no secrets to Priscilla Wyatt. Her emotions were right there in her eyes for the entire world to see, and she made no apologies for that. There were no games, no subterfuge, no lies. And for a man who dealt with liars, cowards and outlaws on the run, her honesty was not only a rare commodity but incredibly seductive. How was she still walking around free?
Her eyes searching his, she frowned. “What are you thinking?”
“Have you been living in a cave?”
“No, of course not.” She laughed, surprised. “You know where I live—you’ve been there.”
“Then the men in England must be idiots.”
He could see the delight that surged into her eyes as she nodded in understanding. “I think so, too, but I didn’t realize you were so discerning.”
“Minx!” He laughed, and dragged her down to him for a quick kiss.
Chuckling, she kissed him back, but the heat that was burning deep in both of them refused to be contained any longer. His laughter faded, as did hers, and with a groan that seemed to come from his soul, he took the kiss deeper.
One kiss led to another, one touch to many, until time blurred and need clawed at them with silky sharp talons. Within minutes, they were both wound tighter than a broken watch.
Fighting the need to push them both over the edge, Donovan wanted to draw out the pleasure until they both forgot their own names, but Priscilla had other plans. She pushed him to his back and moved over him, stroking, teasing, driving him out of his mind with nothing more than her delicate, artistic fingers. Then, just when he was sure he couldn’t stand the pleasure another instant, she trailed kisses right down the center of his chest. Just that easily, he lost it.
When Donovan’s cell phone rang at three-forty in the morning, he woke with a start to find the covers on the floor, Priscilla draped across his chest, and her breathing soft and warm in his ear. He’d never been more content in his life. The last thing he wanted to do was get out of bed and retrieve his phone from where he’d left it on the chest to answer what was, no doubt, a wrong number. The Wyatts wouldn’t call—they knew the phones were being tapped—so who else would be calling him, especially in the middle of the night?
Swearing, he gently rolled Priscilla off him, and wasn’t surprised when she woke almost immediately. Rubbing her eyes, she frowned up at him in confusion. “Is it time to get up? Oh, my God! The phone! Who would be calling at this time of night?”
“It’s probably a wrong number,” he told her. “Some drunk who transposed the numbers.”
But when he snatched up the phone and checked the caller ID, his expression turned grim. “It’s Buck.”
Priscilla turned wh
ite as a sheet. “Wh-what?! But he’s not supposed to call us unless there’s an emergency!”
When the phone rang again, Donovan wanted to reach for her, to comfort her, to assure her that there was no reason to panic, but he knew Buck wouldn’t take a chance and call unless something was seriously wrong. Flipping open the phone, he braced for trouble. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone just called and told me Priscilla was dead,” Buck said tersely. “Dammit, Donovan, if she’s hurt and you didn’t call—”
“She’s fine,” he assured him. “She’s right here next to me. Here—talk to her.”
Concerned, Priscilla quickly took the phone. “Buck? It’s me. I’m fine. Why would you think I’m not?”
“Because some jackass just called and said you were dead,” he retorted, furious. “I know it was a trick, but I had to make sure. Dammit to hell! Now whoever’s tapping the damn line is going to figure out where you are, and you’re going to have to move again. I’m sorry, Sis. I couldn’t go back to sleep without knowing that you’re all right.”
Tears welled in her eyes at his words. When was this nightmare going to be over? And when was the bastard who was torturing her family going to pay for all the horrible things he’d done?
“Don’t you dare apologize. This isn’t your fault. If we’re going to blame someone, it’s the monsters who are bullying us. And it’s not going to work. Do you hear me, bastards?” she demanded furiously of their eavesdropper. “You want to listen? Listen to this! You’re wasting your time, but go ahead and knock yourselves out. Throw all your dirty, nasty, underhanded tricks at us. They’re not going to work. We’re not leaving the ranch, and at the end of the month, it will officially be ours.
“Then we’re going after you,” she promised silkily. “And when we find out who you are, your ass is going to prison. We’ll make sure of it.”