Two on the Run (Harlequin Super Romance)

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Two on the Run (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 14

by Watson, Margaret


  “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid,” he said after a moment. “Look at me. I’m scared witless.”

  “And you can do something about it. You’re the one in control of the situation. I’m just along for the ride.”

  “Is that why you’re so starched all the time? Because you’re afraid of losing control?”

  There was a long silence. Then she said, her voice tight, “I think we have more important things to do right now than psychoanalyze me.”

  “But not more interesting,” he said.

  “Maybe we should talk about your hang-ups instead.” She turned to glare at him. “Why don’t you trust anyone? Why won’t you ever let anyone get inside your fences and help you?”

  “Hell,” he muttered. “All I was trying to do was take your mind off what was happening.”

  She settled back against the seat. “Well, you certainly did that,” she said dryly. “I’ve completely forgotten that we’re being chased by ruthless killers.”

  He scowled at her to conceal the grin that hovered around his mouth. “I can tell you one thing. You don’t ever have to worry about being kidnapped by real bad guys. If someone actually managed to snatch you, that mouth of yours would scare him off in about fifteen minutes.”

  “It didn’t seem to do any good with you.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not as quick as a lot of guys.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Right.”

  At least she didn’t have that scared-rabbit look on her face now. That had frightened him more than anything else. If Ellie lost it, they were in big trouble.

  “I think we’re almost at the road,” she said, peering through the corn. “It doesn’t seem quite as shady up there.”

  “Okay.” He touched the gun that he’d laid on the seat next to him. “We’ll be ready.”

  She looked from the gun to his face. “Do you really think we’ll need that?”

  “No. But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

  They were approaching the highway. Just ahead, the corn stopped abruptly and a shimmering heat mirage rose off the black asphalt. He eased the car to a stop a few feet from the edge of the field.

  “Stay here,” he ordered as he slid out of the car. The scab on the wound in his back pulled painfully, reminding him of just how few options they really had.

  As he reached the end of the row of corn, he lowered himself to the ground. Slithering across the last couple of feet of hard-packed dirt, he took a deep breath and finally eased his head out into the open.

  “Damn it.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “WHAT?” she asked in a frantic whisper from right behind him.

  He slid backward until the corn hid him again, then turned to her in a fury. “I told you to stay in the car.”

  “It sounded as if you might need help. What’s wrong?”

  “There’s a car sitting on the shoulder of the highway, about a hundred yards back. It looks like our buddies from Charles’s house.”

  She knelt on the ground next to him. “What are we going to do?”

  “You’re going to get back in the car.” He frowned, mostly to hide the warmth that was spreading through him. She’d disobeyed his orders by getting out of the car, but she’d risked her own life to hurry to his aid. “Then I’m going to check it out.”

  “Why don’t you let me do that?” she asked, whispering although there was no way the occupants of the car could hear them.

  “Now why would I do that?”

  “Because you’re hurt. You shouldn’t be crawling around on the ground. You’re going to reopen that wound.”

  “And that would be worse than letting you wander around like an elephant in a china store?”

  “I can be very quiet,” she said fiercely.

  He laughed. “Sweetheart, that will be the day. You wouldn’t be able to resist telling those guys what they were doing wrong.”

  “So you’re going to leave a trail of blood for them to follow?”

  “That’s very melodramatic, Eleanor. Is that a line from one of your books?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Go ahead and be a tough guy. We still have plenty of peroxide and bandages.”

  She turned around and flounced to the car. At least she closed the door quietly. The grin he’d been trying to hide emerged as he turned back toward the road.

  Someone had definitely been watching out for him when he’d snatched Ellie Perkins. She’d jumped in to save him when she thought he was in trouble, then tried to get him to wait in the car because she was concerned about his wound.

  She was generous and caring—even to a man who had kidnapped her.

  She was an alien. It was the only explanation. People like Ellie didn’t really exist. He certainly had never met anyone like her before.

  He watched the police car for a good twenty minutes. Only a few cars and pickups passed the cops, along with two large tractors. The beginning of a plan percolating in his head, he finally turned around and slipped back to the car.

  Ellie still sat inside, but he could see her peering down the rows of corn. His heart tightened in his chest when he saw the worried expression on her face.

  “Did you miss me?” he said, emerging from the corn.

  “I was worried.” Her blue-gray eyes filled with concern, she scanned him from head to toe as if to assure herself that he was okay. “I was afraid they’d seen you.”

  “They’re too busy watching the road behind them.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “A couple of big tractors went by while I was watching. We’ll wait for another one to come along,” he said, planning his strategy. “We’ll watch what happens when it passes their car. I’m hoping that it will block their vision for a few moments. That’s when we’ll drive across the road.”

  He watched as she thought about his plan, noted the doubt in her eyes. But finally she nodded. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

  Clearly, she’d analyzed the alternatives and realized it was the only way. “We’re both going to watch a few tractors go by. When we figure out the timing, we’ll drive to the very edge of the field and wait for an opportunity.”

  After five or six farm vehicles rumbled past, he said, “We’ll go on the next one.” Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, he allowed his fingers to brush Ellie’s arm. He needed to touch her, to ground himself. “I want you to get down on the floor as we cross the road. They’re probably looking for a car with two people in it.”

  He didn’t want her to be in the line of fire, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. She looked as if she was about to question him, but he heard another tractor approaching and leaned forward. “Here we go.”

  He watched its slow, awkward progress. “All right. Get ready.”

  She slid onto the floor and huddled under the dashboard. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel, calculating when to make his move. As soon as the tractor started to veer in front of the police car, he gunned the engine. The car struggled up the embankment, then shot across the road.

  As they headed down the other side, the car swerved and bounced and Ellie’s head hit the bottom of the dashboard. The track veered sharply to the right almost immediately and in moments they were safely hidden in the corn again.

  There was no sound of a car approaching, but Michael gunned the accelerator anyway. They bounced along another narrow, rutted track, the car shuddering and moaning. The lane twisted and turned, and they were thrown first toward the roof, then into the door. Ellie smashed into Michael and grabbed for the seat. By the time he stopped the car, they were both white-faced and panting.

  But they had put at least a hundred yards between themselves and the road.

  “What now?” she whispered.

  “We wait. If they saw anything, they’ll probably drive down here to take a look, and we don’t want them to hear the engine.”

  The heavy, stifling air pressed around them. Sweat rolled down Michael’s sides and chest. E
llie had beads of perspiration forming at her hairline. But they stayed motionless, sucking in the humid air, straining to listen.

  The faint rumble of a car engine reached them. The vehicle should have been moving much more quickly on the country road, and anxiety speared through him. When the car stopped and the engine went quiet, he knew the Midland officers had found the track.

  “Out of the car,” he whispered, opening his door with a quiet click.

  Ellie obeyed him without a word, easing the door closed behind her. She watched him with huge, frightened eyes. Clearly he didn’t need to tell her they’d been found.

  “I want you to hide in the corn. If you go in a few rows, they’ll never see you. The stalks are too close together. Lie on the ground and keep your face down.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I’m going to go the other way.”

  He was going to wait for the two men to find the car. And if they did, he’d do whatever it took to protect Ellie.

  She looked at him doubtfully, as if she suspected he wasn’t telling her the truth. He had to resist the temptation to grab her and kiss her one more time. Instead of reaching for her, he motioned toward the corn and then deliberately turned away.

  But he watched her out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t go nearly as far away as he’d ordered. After the second row she stopped and knelt in the soil.

  He watched as she searched for something on the ground. After a few moments, apparently satisfied, she sat down between the closely planted rows.

  Worry burned in his gut and he wanted to tell her to move farther back. But he heard the mutter of voices approaching and knew he couldn’t risk speaking to her.

  Instead of melting into the green vegetation, he crouched in front of the car. The approaching officers couldn’t see him unless they got down and looked under the vehicle, and he would be close enough to Ellie to help if the rogue officers spotted her.

  Their voices became more distinct as they got closer. In a few more moments they would turn the last corner and see the car. Michael tensed, waiting for the shout that would tell him it had been spotted.

  “There’s nothing here.”

  The man’s voice was startlingly clear. The police were closer than he realized.

  “We saw something cross the road when that damn tractor went past,” a second voice insisted.

  “It was probably another tractor.” The first man sounded disgusted. “There’s no way Reilly could have gotten past us. We’re wasting our time out here. There’s nothing around but corn, pickups and tractors. And bugs.” Michael heard the officer slapping at himself. “Damn bugs.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I’m going back to the car. These bugs are annoying as hell. And look at these shoes. You know how much these shoes cost me? I just polished them this morning and they’re covered with mud. You want to keep walking through this field, be my guest. I’m done.”

  Michael held his breath as one set of footsteps retreated. Finally the other man swore, letting loose a string of vicious curses. Then he, too, turned around and began walking toward the highway.

  Michael didn’t move until he heard the police car start up and head back down the highway. And then he waited for another fifteen minutes. Finally he peered around the car, half expecting to see one of the officers waiting for him.

  But the only movement was from corn leaves rustling together as they swayed in the breeze. He stood and listened intently, making sure it was safe before he motioned to Ellie to rejoin him.

  She ran toward him. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I saw you grab your back when you stood up. Turn around.” She moved behind him, and he felt her fingertips skim across his wound. “At least it doesn’t look like it’s bleeding again.”

  “It’s fine,” he said, turning back. “Perfect, in fact.” He scowled at her. “Which is more than I can say for you. Why didn’t you do what I told you to do and go deep into that corn? If they had come another twenty feet, they would have spotted you.”

  “Just like they would have spotted you?” She lifted her chin. “I wanted to be close in case you needed help.”

  “And just what were you going to do? Nag them to death?”

  “I was going to use this.” She held up a rock about the size of two fists. “I figured I could bash at least one of them in the head.”

  His fear for her and the resulting anger drained away as he gazed at the defiant tilt of her head. She clutched the pitiful weapon in her hand as she stared back at him. But he saw the uncertainty in her eyes.

  “My God, Ellie.” He shook his head. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

  “Nothing,” she said, tossing the rock on the ground. “I suppose it was a stupid idea.”

  “Yeah,” he said, unable to stop himself from reaching for her. “It was a damn stupid idea. But I’m finding that I like stupid.”

  He grasped her upper arms and pulled her close enough to see the dark flecks in her blue-gray eyes. “I don’t deserve to have you help me.”

  “Probably not,” she said, the uncertainty fading from her eyes. It was replaced by a glint of humor and an expression that started his blood heating. “But I figured it was my civic duty to make sure you get to the FBI.”

  “Your civic duty, huh?” He drew her closer until only a whisper of air separated them. “I’ve always appreciated citizens who try to do their part.”

  “I’ve always tried to be involved in civil matters.” Her voice was breathy and faint, as if she couldn’t get enough air.

  “One of us better be,” he whispered, pulling her against him. “Because I’m not feeling very civilized right now.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers and felt her lips tremble beneath his. Then she opened her mouth and surrendered to him. Desire stabbed him, sharp and urgent. He needed to possess her. He needed to remind them both they were still alive.

  Closing his eyes, he deepened the kiss and brought his hands up to frame her face. Tendrils of her hair slipped between his fingers, smooth and cool. He buried his fists in the thick mass and pressed his body against hers.

  With a soft cry she struggled to free her hands from where they were trapped against his chest. Then she wound her arms around him and clung to him, holding on as if she never intended to let him go.

  Don’t do this, he warned himself harshly. There was no future for them. He wasn’t the kind of man Ellie needed.

  But she leaned closer and her breasts pressed into his chest, her nipples already stiff. She wanted him.

  And he was hard and aching for her.

  With an inarticulate growl, he lowered her to the hard ground and covered her body with his. He needed to be inside her, needed to feel her legs wrapped around him, needed to hear her cries of release fill the air.

  He shoved her blouse up to her shoulders and pushed her bra after it. Her breasts fell into his hands, warm and smooth and soft. Her dusky pink nipples were hard and pebbled, and as he looked at her, she arched her back, offering herself to him with an inarticulate little cry.

  “Ellie,” he muttered, his tongue dipping into the hollow at the base of her throat. “What are you doing to me?”

  He couldn’t bear to take his time, couldn’t wait to treat her gently and carefully. He moved lower and took her nipple into his mouth, unable to think of anything but his need for her. She stiffened beneath him with a shocked cry, then her head fell back and her fingers clutched at his shoulders.

  Suddenly worried that he’d hurt her or scared her, he tried to raise his head. But she refused to let him go, holding his head to her breast. Her hips jerked against his, and she raised her legs and wrapped them around him.

  He burned with the need to bury himself deep in side her. When her thighs tightened around him, he felt himself grow even harder. Taking his mouth from her breast, he trailed his lips down her belly, tasting and sucking, feeling he
r muscles quiver. Her legs fell open and he fumbled with the button on her slacks.

  They were too snug; he couldn’t strip them down her legs. Frantic to touch her, he slid his hand into the open waistband. When he cupped her through her panties she was hot and wet.

  “Oh, Ellie.” He tore at the fabric until he felt it rip. When he touched her, she jerked in his arms and cried out sharply.

  Blood pounded in his head and desire raged through him. There was no thought, no hesitation. Nothing existed in the world but his need to be inside her, to possess her, to make her completely his. He moved away from her abruptly, but she reached for him.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Please. Don’t stop.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not stopping anything.”

  Frantic now, he peeled his jeans down until they tangled around his feet. Lifting her hips with one hand, he stripped her slacks off with the other and tossed aside the torn panties.

  With one thrust he was deep inside her. She gasped and went still for a moment, then moved tentatively beneath him. Groaning, he buried his face in her hair and cupped her hips in his hands, driving himself ever more deeply into her. When he began to move she rose up with a throaty cry, keeping her body plastered tightly against his, as if she couldn’t bear to have any distance between them.

  He felt her quiver, felt the tension coiling inside her. Suddenly she cried out, shattering beneath him. The first tremors of his own release moved through him and he thrust into her again and again, until there was nothing left.

  They lay together, both of them trembling. After a moment he rolled over, carrying her with him so she sprawled on top of him. Ignoring the stab of his wound, he swept his hand down her back, lingering on the softness of her buttocks, letting her essence seep into all his pores.

  She turned her head and brushed a tentative kiss across his neck. He felt her uncertainty, and reality returned in a rush. This wasn’t some bimbo he’d picked up in a bar, someone who knew the score. This was Ellie, for God’s sake. Ellie, whom he’d kidnapped less than twenty-four hours ago. Ellie, whose tentative kisses clearly showed her inexperience. Ellie, whom he’d vowed to protect with his life.

 

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