Runaway

by Heather Graham

  “Dubious honor!” Tara began angrily.

  “All right! I’m sorry. But I did win you in a poker game at Eastwood’s!”

  Was he serious, or laughing at her? Sometimes he was amused, his smile coming so quickly. And sometimes there seemed to be something almost dark about him, jaded, very hard and cynical.

  He strode across the room again, nonchalant in his bath sheet, muscled bronze shoulders gleaming. He retrieved her clothing from around the room, depositing it on the bed at her feet. He let the bath sheet fall, plucking his own clothing from the floor. With no hesitancy or embarrassment he crawled back into his breeches. “Get dressed!” he commanded her. “Now!”

  Oh, he could snap out orders like a general! “You just told me to get undressed!” she reminded him.

  He paused. Even at their distance she could sense both his amusement and his innate heat. “You want to stay there? We don’t have much time, but then again, maybe there’s enough—”

  “Oh, stop it!” she whispered. “I can’t get dressed! You’re staring at me—”

  She broke off. They were both startled by a light knocking at the door.

  “McKenzie, you in there?” came a soft query.

  It was dark, but Tara could see the way that the tension eased from his shoulders. He strode toward the door.

  “What are you doing?” she called out desperately, instinctively dragging the sheets to her throat.

  He didn’t reply. Holding on to his bath sheet, he jerked open the door. The handsome young man from the pool table stumbled in. “McKenzie! They’re looking for the girl—”

  “Well, you’re late,” McKenzie told him with a touch of amusement. “They were already here.”

  “You let them take her?”

  McKenzie indicated the bed. Tara wanted to shrink beneath it.

  “Oh. Oh! Excuse me, I didn’t know I was interrupting—”

  “You weren’t interrupting anything,” McKenzie said flatly. “I had to make it look as if we were occupied for hours to come.”

  “Why are they after her?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you try asking her?”

  Tara was instantly certain that he didn’t have the see-in-the-dark abilities of his friend. He squinted, staring her way. “Why are they after you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “We don’t have time for this. Not now. We’ve got to get out.”

  “Right!” Robert said quickly. He stood still.

  “Well?” McKenzie said, amused again. “Do you mind? I think that the lady would like to dress.”

  “Oh. Right! I’ll be outside.”

  McKenzie closed the door behind him. He stared at Tara. “Get dressed!”

  She gritted her teeth. “If you’re going to stare at me, you might as well invite your friend back in!” she snapped.

  “Shall I?”

  She threw a pillow at him and he caught it. He laughed. It was a rich, husky sound. Sensual. She felt more naked than ever.

  “It’s pitch dark in here—and I’ve already seen you.” He was very quick himself. He was already in his shirt and boots and frock coat and coming across the room again. She was forced to swallow down a cry when he lifted her from the sheets, setting her on the floor.

  “If it was pitch dark, you haven’t seen anything!” she tried to tell him.

  But maybe that was wrong. She could see the fiery gleam in his dark eyes and the mocking curl to his lip as he slipped her petticoat over her head and then swirled her around to tie her corset back in place. He was swift and deft with women’s clothing, she noted.

  “We’ve got to get going!” he told her.

  “And go where?” she whispered desperately. “Down to your swamp?”

  “You’ve a better suggestion?”

  “North—”

  “I live south.”

  “But I can’t stay there!” she protested in dismay. “It’s savage land—”

  “And you’re afraid? Pity!”

  “I’m not afraid,” she murmured quickly. “Not any more afraid than I am of going back out tonight!”

  “Ah! Since Eastwood’s boys will take their time reporting back, you think that your friends will still be after you!”

  “They’re not my friends.”

  “Whoever. We’ll get past them.”

  “To the swamp!” she whispered.

  “I won’t leave you once we’re there,” he said very softly.

  Tara closed her eyes. She tried to remember everything she knew about Florida. It was raw, awful, she had heard. There were horrible, savage battles with the Indians. Most of the state was a wasteland.

  She didn’t want to be afraid. Ever. But she was.

  “How can I be guaranteed that?” she whispered, her eyes pinning his. Damn, but she had a will of steel! Danger lay at the doorstep and she was still negotiating!

  A tap came on the door. “Ready?” Robert asked. The door opened. He came through.

  “She doesn’t like the idea of Florida,” McKenzie told him.

  “I don’t want to be left with a savage in the middle of a swamp!” she whispered.

  “Why not? You’ll be going there with a savage!” Robert said and laughed. There was silence. “I was joking, you know.”

  Why the hell was he taking her with him? Jarrett wondered. He could just put her on a riverboat and send her north.

  And where would she wind up? How long would it be before these people came after her again?

  It wasn’t his affair.

  It was. He had seen her. He had touched her. Oh, yes. He had seen quite a bit of her.

  “He won’t leave you there,” Robert continued. “I know he won’t.” He swung around, staring at McKenzie in the darkness. His voice was a whisper. “Damn it, it’s the answer. Yes, bring her home. You’ve needed someone. Marry her.”

  “What?” McKenzie thundered the word. Then he stared at Tara. She backed away into a corner of the room.

  “Look—” she began.

  “Why not?” McKenzie muttered.

  He smiled as a startling chill swept through him. What was he doing? To himself, to her!

  What difference did it make? he wondered wearily. He could never have married any of the women or girls who would have been appropriate wives for him. Not someone he knew, who had known Lisa. Robert had once suggested a mail-order bride because he did need someone. What was a plantation without someone to run the household, without someone—anyone—warm to return to at the end of the day?

  Well, she was a hell of a lot better than a mail-order bride!

  And he knew that he wanted her. If he should burn any more deeply for her, he would explode like cannon fire.

  He stared hard at her, his muscles constricted, the length of him as tight as wire. “I will marry you,” he told her. “And then I can absolutely guarantee you that you will be safe.”

  She gasped, stunned. “But I can’t—”

  “Are you already married?”

  “No!”

  “Then?”

  For once he seemed to have really shaken her. Her lips trembled, the length of her shook. “I don’t love you, I don’t even know you! I—” She shook her head wildly. “How do you know you’re willing to do it?” she inquired.

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Because I’m a gambler. You must have noticed that by now. And if you were willing to throw yourself into the Mississippi, you have to be one hell of a gambler too.”

  She was still staring at him, moisture dazzling her eyes, even in the shadowy darkness.

  “She’s gone! Really gone. I sure as hell can’t find her,” came an irritated call from the street.

  “She can’t be gone! Keep looking. We’ll find her.”

  “What’s it to be?” he asked her very softly.

  What was it to be? What choice did she have?

  A shudder seized her, as dark and frightening as the night. Her mouth went dry, her palms dampened. He was a striking man. Even vag
ue thoughts of an intimate relationship with him made her feel very weak.

  He was her way out. She was desperate.

  But if she accepted his help, she knew that she would be expected to play out her part of the bargain. She might well be leaping straight into the fire.…

  It was better than turning back!

  Dear God! She heard footsteps running along the street. They had moved on.

  “Do it!” Robert urged her. He was grinning broadly. Teasing her. Taunting McKenzie. “He’s got a temper as bad as the devil’s, but he’s rich as Midas.”

  “Well?” McKenzie asked. His words were soft. He sounded angry. He was almost demanding that she do it, and yet he seemed to know that she had no choice, that she would say yes—and that when she did, he would be angry all over again!

  “You’re the one running out of time!” he reminded her, black eyes still hard upon her.

  She tossed back her hair, meeting his stare, and his challenge. “Anything! Anything!” she cried. “Just as long as you get me away.”

  “Oh, I’ll get you away! And then you’ll only have to face those savage alligators and Indians—and me!” He turned away from her, staring at the friend who had taunted him into the situation. “Let’s move, then. Robert—go ahead, get us ready to leave. Slip out now.”

  “Right!” Robert saluted. It was an adventure for him. Tara could see his handsome smile flashing brightly against the night.

  He slipped out. A second later McKenzie had her arm. “Quickly!” he commanded, leading her from the dark room. In seconds they were rushing down the stairs and hurrying back down the street. The scenery seemed to flash by her. She had never moved so swiftly in all her life.

  Suddenly he pulled her into an alleyway.

  Someone was coming down the street. Running after them now that it seemed they had disappeared. She could hear the footsteps coming closer and closer. Within seconds she’d be able to touch the man stalking them in the night.

  McKenzie knew it too. She could see it in his black eyes. But those eyes never left hers. At just the right moment he threw out his arm.

  A man bellowed in the darkness, tripping. He was burly, half bald, and very vicious looking in the shadows as he picked himself up. He caught a glimpse of Tara, smiled, and started for McKenzie.

  McKenzie let his fist fly once. It connected with the man’s jaw. The big burly fellow went down with a little expulsion of air.

  Tara stared down at him. McKenzie reached out a hand to her.

  She didn’t take it at first. She kept staring down at the man in amazement. “Is he dead?” she asked.

  “No,” he told her. He paused a moment. “Did you want him to be?”

  “No!”

  “Good.”

  She gazed up at him. Those dark eyes were still studying her, as if they could discern everything about her!

  He shrugged. “It’s good to know that you’re not a bloodthirsty little wench. Even if he did deserve killing. Did he?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said.

  “Somehow, I didn’t think you would be. He was just a henchman for someone else, right?”

  “I can’t—”

  “Damnit, you know who this one is, right?”

  “Yes!”

  “One down,” he murmured. “For a while, at least.”

  “Can we go?” she murmured.

  “I was just waiting for you to ask.”

  “Where are we going right now?” she whispered.

  “To find a minister.”

  Tara stepped over the unconscious man on the ground. She looked up at McKenzie, shaking her head. “You—you don’t have to marry me!” she whispered. “I’ll come with you anyway. You don’t owe me. I owe you—”

  “Three hundred dollars is much too much for a whore,” he told her with a touch of amusement. “Besides which, I don’t need one,” he said a little harshly. For a moment his ebony gaze touched the stars in the dark sky. “Whores in this town are a dime a dozen,” he said softly. “So maybe three hundred is fitting for a wife.”

  “Wives shouldn’t be bought!” she whispered.

  “No, they shouldn’t,” he agreed grimly.

  His gaze was on her once again. “But I do need one. And you do need somewhere to go.”

  It was settled, so it seemed. His hand was around hers again, firm, compelling. She pulled back just a little. “McKenzie,” she murmured, calling him by the only name she knew, “you know that the man back there wasn’t alone.”

  “I know.”

  “Then—”

  “I’ll be watching.”

  They kept walking. Tara heard the lap of the Mississippi to their far left, drifting along in a slow motion. A ship’s bell clanged somewhere out on the water.

  McKenzie walked along easily enough. There were still shadows all around them. Shadows that moved. Shadows that frightened her in the night.

  A cry escaped her. One of those shadows came leaping out from behind a trellis.

  McKenzie suddenly thrust her behind him, spinning around.

  “Let the girl go or you’re a dead man!” the shadow demanded. He was no longer a shadow. He was flesh and blood. He wasn’t quite as tall as McKenzie, but he was huskier. And he was brandishing a knife.

  “No,” McKenzie said simply. He hadn’t even pulled a weapon.

  “This ain’t your fight!” the fellow warned him.

  “She’s with me!” McKenzie insisted. “Anyone will tell you. She’s three hundred dollars on the gaming table. And I don’t turn that kind of money over to anyone.”

  “You can damned well give me the girl, or I’ll take her!”

  McKenzie stood still.

  “Do something!” Tara cried, terrified that he would underestimate an opponent.

  She never would. She knew better.

  But McKenzie hadn’t underestimated the man. When the hulk lunged, McKenzie sidestepped him. Quick as a flash he spun, both fists coming down on the big man’s neck.

  Like his companion before him he fell very quietly and lay there without moving.

  He looked up at Tara. “Did I do enough?” he asked wryly.

  “Yes, quite enough!” she murmured back.

  McKenzie stared at her. “Will there be more?” he asked. He sounded slightly aggravated.

  She moistened her lips. “I don’t know, I never know!” she cried out. She inhaled, still shaking. He wasn’t even breathing hard. Jesu, if he should ever learn the truth about her.

  “Let’s go, then,” he said. That edge of dark, contemptuous anger was in his voice again. She shivered suddenly, remembering the naked man in the darkness, the lithe way that he moved, like a panther in the night.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” she gasped out. “I can’t go with you. Because I never know—”

  “Ah, but we’re going down to the Seminoles and alligators!” he told her pleasantly, reaching for her hand again. “No one will dare follow you there!”

  “But—?”

  “We’ve made a bargain,” he reminded her harshly, swinging her around suddenly so that her back was against the brick wall of a warehouse. His hands pinned her there on either side of her head. She could scarcely breathe. He fascinated her. Made her tremble.

  And once again, made her afraid. She’d seen evidence of all she had imagined about him from one look in those ebony eyes. He could be merciful.

  He could be ruthless.

  “Do you wish to renege on our agreement?”

  What did she have to lose?

  She met his gaze with her chin high and shook her head in a silent no.

  “Frightened?” he queried with the amused arch of a brow.

  Damn him. She hadn’t been beaten yet. And he wasn’t going to get the best of her either!

  “Bring on your alligators and savages,” she said sweetly. “Heaven knows,” she murmured, “they can’t be worse than some of my relations!”

  He laughed. “Some of them will be your relations!�
� he told her.

  “What?”

  He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “You won’t have to worry unduly about either reptiles or Indians,” he promised, then added softly, “But you will have to worry about me!”

  “What do you mean?” The brick at her back seemed very cold.

  “I’m marrying you because I want a wife,” he said bluntly.

  “So you’ve said!”

  He shifted impatiently, his eyes still impaling hers. “I’d never force a whore,” he continued, even more bluntly, “but I don’t want a wife I’d need to force.”

  She tried to keep her eyes level with his. She really tried. They fell anyway.

  “I know what wives—do,” she said at last.

  He lifted her chin. Damn, but his eyes could be like coals that burned, the devil’s own!

  “I said I know!” she whispered heatedly. “What more do you expect?” she cried.

  “Good question. Maybe it’s not so much a matter of what I expect, as it is of what I’d like!”

  “Meaning?”

  “Well, I’m afraid that I’m not just a nice individual—”

  “I don’t remember accusing you of such a thing!” Tara said, blurting out the words because she was so nervous.

  But he still smiled. “I saw you the moment you walked into the room. And I wanted you the moment you walked into the room.”

  A wealth of color flooded to her cheeks again. Her lashes fell.

  “My cards are all on the table,” he said politely.

  Was he still waiting for an explanation? Well he could wait from now until eternity! He wasn’t getting one. “Fine,” she said softly. “You want a wife. You’ll get one.” She looked up at him and found those eyes impaling her once again. “A good one!” she cried. “I can do many things. I know how to manage a household—”

  “I don’t give a damn if you know how to manage a household or not,” he drawled, smiling with a certain amount of amusement. “I accepted you as payment on a gambling table because you’re incredibly beautiful. And I want you for the same reason. Still willing?”