Cowboy Delirium

by Joanna Wayne

  She killed the connection and handed the phone back to Rio. “Even hearing his voice makes me physically ill now.”

  “I can understand that. Did I mention that your brothers issued an ultimatum today?”

  “No. When did you learn that?”

  “When I was talking to Zach a few minutes ago. They told Buerto that if you aren’t released within twenty-four hours, they are going to the cops. That was just after noon today.”

  “As if they weren’t already in bed with the CIA.”

  “Hopefully Buerto doesn’t know that.”

  “The ultimatum explains his call of desperation,” Jaime said, “but I don’t see what the cartel is waiting on.”

  “That’s the question of the hour.” He looked out the window. “Our turn onto the blacktop is coming up and the logging road isn’t far after that. Why don’t you pull over and let me drive?”

  “I was raised on a ranch, Rio. I can drive on a cow trail.”

  “I was just asking.”

  “Okay, the answer is no. But I think you should call Poncho. I never thought I’d say this, but maybe you can lure him to the cabin.”

  “You are not only beautiful but cagey. That’s a very dangerous combination.”

  “I could have told you that.”

  He tried Poncho. There was no answer, which was extremely unusual considering they were in the middle of a kidnapping.

  It struck her that Poncho might be lying in the woods somewhere with his chest caved into a lifeless, shrunken mass.

  If that was the case, the missing RKO canister could be anywhere.

  EXHAUSTION SET IN BIG-TIME and Rio was dragging by the time they walked into the cabin. Poncho wasn’t there to greet them this time and there was no sign he’d been around.

  “I’m starved,” Jaime said, opening the refrigerator.

  He blamed himself. “I have this habit of forgetting about food when I’m on a mission. You should have said you were hungry earlier. We could have stopped and bought something decent to eat.”

  “No problem. There’s bacon and cheese. I could make us a sandwich.”

  He moved toward the kitchen area. “I’ll fry the bacon.”

  “No, you just sit down on the sofa and relax.”

  “And the role of the little woman will be played by Jaime Collingsworth.”

  She smiled at him. “Yes, but it’s a one-night show. Don’t get used to it.”

  He wouldn’t dare.

  He perched on a chair at the table and watched her work. Her energy level surprised him, considering they’d never gotten to bed last night and her nap today had only been a few hours longer than his.

  “What do you say to walking down to the lake for a moonlight picnic?” she asked. “A real picnic with no talk of Poncho or Buerto or RKO. Just you and me and the quiet of the night.”

  He’d say it was incredibly tempting and that he owed her that much. “I’ll pull a quilt off one of the bunk beds.”

  “Sounds perfect,” she said. “Now all we need is a good bottle of wine.”

  “Or a nice cold beer.”

  “Would you settle for water?”

  “If that’s your best offer.”

  He made a pit stop and washed up. When he returned with the quilt, Jaime was packing the sandwiches and two bottles of water into one of the grocery sacks on which he’d jotted his decoding scribbles.

  “I hope that mangy dog’s not around,” she said.

  “If he bothers you I’ll smash him the way I did the roach the other night.”

  “My big brave SEAL,” she cooed, openly flirting in spite of their traumatic evening.

  “Former SEAL,” he reminded her. “But I can still handle small animals and insects.” Jaime was the real challenge.

  The moon was so bright there was no need for him to pull his penlight from his pocket. When they reached the lake’s edge, he searched for the perfect spot to spread the quilt, finally choosing a grassy area just uphill from the muddy bank.

  They wasted no time getting to the sandwiches and his appetite kicked in at first bite. Talk was neglected in favor of nourishment. He finished his second sandwich while she was still working on her first.

  His stomach full, he stretched out on his left side, propping himself on his elbow so that he could watch the moonbeams play in Jaime’s strawberry-blond locks.

  She was absolutely gorgeous. Feminine, flirty, seductive—even when she wasn’t trying to be. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and resume the kiss he’d started earlier.

  That would merely make it a trillion times harder to walk away before she totally broke his heart. Or before they broke each other’s trying to make an impossible love affair work.

  She finished her last bite of sandwich and turned to face him. “Have you ever been in love, Rio?”

  “Once in every port. It’s the duty of every sailor. How about you? Were you in love with Buerto?”

  “Heavens, no. I thought the relationship had potential but we were still in the getting-acquainted stage. I’m glad we never made it to the bedroom stage. I’d hate to think I’d slept with that despicable, depraved subhuman. Now it’s your turn again, and no avoiding the subject this time, Rio.”

  She stretched out beside him and his willpower turned to warm cream.

  “The honest truth,” she murmured. “Have you ever been in love?”

  It was a simple and straightforward question. The answer was simple, too, but so intimate that he’d kept it locked away inside him and seldom shared it with anyone. Maybe it was time.

  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I was in love once.”

  “Only once? Tell me about her. Was she beautiful?”

  “She was stunning. Long, straight hair as black as coal. Eyes even darker. A disarming smile.”

  He sat up and looked away, staring into a widening circle of ripples in the water. “Her name was Gabrielle and I fell in love with her the first time we met. She was sweet and caring and way too smart for me, but we were meant for each other.”

  “How did you know?”

  “We fit. We came from the same background. We knew the same people. We even liked the same movies and read the same books. We wanted the same things from life.”

  “Did you marry her?”

  “Two weeks after we met.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “She was a social worker. Most of her cases involved helping Hispanic immigrant women adjust to their new life in the States. She was walking back to her car after making a home visit late one afternoon when two rival gang members across the street from her started shooting at each other.”

  Jaime sat up and her eyes glistened as she looked at him. “Oh, Rio, no. You don’t need to say more. I wasn’t thinking. I had no right to ask.”

  “It’s okay. It’s part of who I am.”

  She searched his face, as if gauging the truth to his statement. “Then I’d like to hear the rest.”

  “There’s not much. One of the bullets ricocheted off Gabrielle’s car and into her heart. She died instantly. So did the baby. She was eight months pregnant with our child.”

  Now the tears that had been gathering in Jaime’s eyes overflowed onto her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Rio. You must miss her very much.”

  “It almost destroyed me at the time. It’s gotten easier over the years.” He reached out and wiped the tears away. “It was a very long time ago, before I joined the Navy and went into SEAL training.”

  “And yet you’re still afraid of taking a chance with someone new.”

  How well she read him. “I won’t marry again, Jaime. I’ve had that once. It’s too hard when you lose it. Don’t expect forever and then you won’t get burned.”

  “And you’re afraid that admitting that we’re attracted to each other will end up in disaster?”

  “I wouldn’t be if this was just an attraction, but I’m practically obsessed with you. Sometimes I’m dizzy with wanting to
make love with you. If we make love, it will become a hundred times worse. Besides, there’s nowhere for the relationship to go.

  “You’re an heiress. You live in a gold-studded world. I’m a cowboy investigator. Not a rich rancher. Just a cowboy. It’s not fear that keeps me from getting sexually involved with you. It’s just common sense.”

  She jerked away from him. “You keep telling yourself those lies, cowboy. You can hide behind your fear and call it logic, but the truth is you’re a man and I’m a woman. The rest is window dressing. And if you get burned, then deal with it. It’s better than just living in the cold.”

  She stood and yanked the pink sweater over her head and dropped it onto the quilt. Then she unzipped her jeans, wiggled out of them and bent to pull a bar of soap and a washcloth from the bottom of the grocery bag.

  “I’m taking a bath in the lake, Rio. I could use you to wash my back and who knows where that might lead. If that prospect frightens you, walk back in the cabin and see if your emotional armor is enough to satisfy you tonight.”

  She sashayed toward the water, her shapely hips taunting him into a frenzied, feverish state. Reason flew to the wind. His defenses deserted him.

  All that was left was him and Jaime and a need that was driving him insane.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jaime kept walking, determined not to look back. She hadn’t meant to throw down the gauntlet with Rio minutes after he’d shared the heartbreaking story of losing his wife. The frustration of the moment and the emotional trauma of the last two days had gotten the better of her.

  And, okay, so she wasn’t used to rejection.

  But their attraction for each other was on the verge of spontaneous combustion. He admitted that he was dizzy with wanting to make love with her.

  And no one had ever turned her on the way Rio did. An incidental touch from him set her on fire, and she grew breathless at just the thought of his kiss.

  She stepped into the water and the cold sent a shock through her system. She kept walking, the bar of soap and the washcloth clutched in her hand. The muddy bottom curled around her toes, but the wind was still and the lake’s surface was as smooth as glass.

  The water was nearly breast high when she heard a splash behind her. She didn’t look back. If Rio wanted her, he’d come after her.

  A few seconds later she felt a tug on her legs and she was dragged beneath the dark water in a tangle of arms and legs.

  Rio, at last.

  He came out of the water holding her in his strong arms as if she were a drowning kid he’d just rescued. He spun around until she was drunk on the thrill of him.

  “Where’s the soap?” he muttered.

  She handed it to him. “Don’t miss any spots.”

  “Not a one. That’s a promise.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers and her heart rose to her throat. There was no warm-up. The intensity was electrifying from the onset. He ravaged her mouth, desperate kisses that felt as if he could suck her into himself.

  She responded with the same, her tongue jutting between his lips, tangling and teasing. She couldn’t get enough, and when he stopped for breath, she trailed hot kisses across his broad shoulders.

  He set her down in the water and pulled her against him, her back to his chest. He cupped her breasts, soaping one and then the other in a circular pattern that sent delicious tingles dancing though her.

  When she was weak with desire, he let the soap slip from his fingers. He turned her to face him and then lifted her again, holding her up so that her breasts were level with his mouth.

  Muscles bulging, he took his time, kissing and sucking each one until the wetness inside her sexual core escaped in a heated stream. When he lowered her back into the water, she took his hand and guided it between her legs so that he could feel the fire he’d ignited.

  He lifted her again and lowered her slowly, letting her ride down the full, hard length of him before he found her lips again and kissed her until her breath burned in her lungs.

  He splayed his hands across her abdomen, and then let them slide lower, to her triangle of curly hair. The slow, tantalizing teasing was so seductive that she feared she’d faint.

  She moaned softly and finally he slid his hand between her legs and let a finger slide inside her. Erotic shudders ripped through her. She erupted, moaning in pleasure, and still he didn’t let up.

  He ducked beneath the water like the magnificent SEAL he was. She gasped when he came up beneath her, his fingers finding the most exhilarating places to play. Then gripping her buttocks to hold her steady, he let his tongue explore her core.

  Expectation drove her wild.

  He surfaced again, trailing kisses down her neck as he guided her hand to his rock-hard erection. She fingered the tip. He shuddered and cried out her name. Emboldened, she enveloped the length of him, stroking until it throbbed in her hands.

  “I want you inside me, Rio,” she whispered. “I need all of you.”

  “You know you drive me crazy, Jaime. Completely, breathlessly crazy.”

  He lifted her and let her down on him slowly. His width and length filled her, and when they rocked together, her heart thundered in her chest. She cried out in delirious release when he finally rocked her home.

  “And I thought you were afraid of me,” she whispered when she could finally speak.

  “I am. Afraid I’ll never get enough of you.”

  “And did you?”

  He smiled, his teeth shining in the moonlight. “Ask me in five minutes, over by the quilt.”

  “You’ve got yourself a date, sailor.”

  RIO WAS ASLEEP BESIDE JAIME when the vibration of his small cell phone woke him. He jumped to get it, and then carried it to the kitchen so as not to wake her.

  “Rio, it’s Dan Camp with the CIA.”

  Rio checked his watch. It was twenty past five in the morning. Adrenaline pumped though his system. With luck, Dan was calling to report they’d retrieved the missing chemical.

  “I hate to disturb you so early, but there’s a problem.”

  His muscles tensed. “Having to do with the RKO?”

  “Indirectly. My men haven’t been able to locate Buerto Arredondo to put him under surveillance. I have a full team searching for him, but so far it’s a no go. There are lights on in his apartment, but no movement.”

  “Is it possible he fell asleep with the lights on?”

  “They have the very best in surveillance equipment and the blinds are all open. If he was there, they’d know it. His car is not in its assigned parking space or anywhere else in the complex.”

  “What about his office?”

  “Negative. And again, no car. The few cars that are in the lot have all been traced to the cleaning crew.”

  Cripes. There was enough RKO floating around to wipe out a small country and the CIA couldn’t even locate a guy he’d talked to on the phone just last night.

  “Have you heard from Poncho yet?” Camp asked.

  “Not a peep, and he’s not answering his phone. When are you going to break in and search Buerto’s house and office for the canister?”

  “When we deem it appropriate.”

  Meaning they considered it none of Rio’s business. That wasn’t good enough.

  “You’re procrastinating with disaster.”

  “We’re trying to avoid disaster,” Camp countered. “We have no proof at this point that the chemical is or has ever been in Buerto’s hands. But if he returns and finds any clue that his house was searched, he’ll bolt and run. That destroys any chance of recovering it when he boards Langston’s plane.”

  “He may have already bolted with the canister. Or he could be in the house or office with a heart and lungs the size of a bird’s and his body cold as ice. Someone else could have hightailed it with the chemical.” Rio fumed.

  “We’re aware of that, but Buerto or someone else from the cartel showing up with it to be smuggled out of the country is still our best hope for recoverin
g the canister.”

  Rio couldn’t argue the logic of that, but doing nothing was never his plan of choice. “I think you’re blowing valuable time. Cutter’s under contract. Put the two of us on the reconnoiter mission. I’ll guarantee you Buerto will not know we’ve been inside that house.”

  “I can’t chance that at this point,” the CIA operative countered. “And if someone involved in this sees you, you’ve blown any chance of the ransom exchange taking place.”

  “I can move without detection. I’ve proven that. It’s why you hired me.”

  There was a pause. Camp was wavering. Rio went in for the kill.

  “You’ve surely got men in place to stop Poncho and search his car for the RKO if he comes anywhere near the cabin. If that happens and you don’t find the RKO, detain him until I get back here.”

  “You don’t have to explain my job to me, Rio.”

  “Then turn me lose to do mine.”

  Still, he wavered. “It’s a risk.”

  “So is doing nothing.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that? But your primary job right now is keeping Jaime with you and on board to go through with the prisoner/ransom exchange.”

  “And to keep her safe,” Rio said. “I’m sure you meant to add that.”

  “That’s a given.”

  “What happened to protocol and keeping private citizens out of harm’s way?”

  “A stolen canister of a deadly chemical happened to it.”

  Dan came through loud and clear. They’d sacrifice Jaime if it came to that. Rio planned to make sure it didn’t. “Does that mean Cutter and I are a go?”

  “Yes, but don’t screw this up, Rio.”

  “It’s already screwed up, Dan. I’m just trying to help with the salvage operation.”

  “Right,” Camp agreed. “Is Jaime awake? I’d like to pick her brain. I figure she may know more than anyone else about Buerto’s friends and where he hangs out.”

  “She’s asleep. Can she call you back in about five minutes?”

  “Sure. Get her some coffee first. She’s been through a lot. Most women would have bailed on us by now.”

  Jaime was not most women. It had taken Rio only days to discover that. He figured it would take a lifetime to forget it.