The Heart Has Reasons

by Martine Marchand

  “Ten years of war wasn’t enough?”

  “Apparently not. The Taliban arose in 1994 from a small group of religious students and became a popular movement, since they denounced the brutalities of the rival warlords and the corruption spread by the ubiquitous opium trade. Once they took power, their solution was to smash the country into a sort of religious Dark Ages. Women and educated professionals suffered especially.

  “And all along, al Qaeda was still there training terrorists. Then 9/11 happened. Fifteen days later, the first U.S. ground forces entered Afghanistan, tasked with advising and supporting the warlords and indigenous guerrilla forces against both al Qaeda and the Taliban.” He deliberately neglected to mention that he’d been among those forces.

  “So our being there is a good thing.”

  “On the surface, it would seem so. The problem is that the Taliban enters the villages to attack the American and Afghan forces. And when we retaliate, innocent Afghan women and children die in the subsequent firefight.”

  He’d never forget the first time he’d seen firsthand the results of a counterattack. On the morning after a battle in which a village had been bombed by U.S. forces, a score of injured Afghan women had gathered outside the gates of a makeshift hospital, bleeding and broken under their sack-like burkas. However, the mullah leaders of the village wouldn’t permit the two foreign doctors to treat them, because both doctors were men.

  One young woman had lain limp and frightened near the gate. She’d lost her parents the year before in a tribal feud. Now her husband was dead. She’d pleaded with anyone who would listen, “Who will take care of me?”

  Inside the hospital, a nine-year-old boy with severe burns over sixty percent of his body had looked into Chase’s eyes and demanded, “Why do you bomb us and then come later saying you’re sorry?”

  He’d had no answer.

  From behind the curtain, Larissa jerked him back to the present by asking, “What are you thinking about?”

  Forcing the memories away, he took a deep breath. “Nothing.”

  * * * * *

  Arizona had a sere beauty to it that rivaled parts of Afghanistan, and Chase wished Larissa were able to view it with him. Pinion and ponderosa pines dotted the brown landscape, while the craggy peaks of the Hualapai Mountains thrust up into a sky turned molten orange and yellow by the last vestiges of the setting sun.

  He left the interstate and ascended a steep road of switchbacks through a forest of pines interspersed by huge rocky outcrops, eventually pulling into a motel constructed in the Santa Fe style. Beneath the flat roofs, rough wooden beams protruded through the outer facades of a dozen terracotta-painted adobe cabins that nestled in a small clearing at the foot of one of those soaring crags.

  He quickly gagged Larissa, and made his way across the gravel parking lot where bedraggled clumps of grass and dry, spiky weeds scrabbled for survival. As he neared the office, he could see that the long-neglected walls were starting to crumble.

  A little calico cat appeared from beneath a battered and rusted pickup truck to meow piteously at him. It purred loudly as he bent down to pet it, and he couldn’t help but wince at the feel of the sharply protruding bones.

  Inside the office, the motel clerk had to be pushing eighty. His hard little potbelly strained against a dingy, stained wife-beater tee shirt as he idled against the counter, thumbing through a hard-core porno magazine. Every tooth in his upper jaw was missing except for the two at center front, giving him the unfortunate appearance of a rabbit.

  Relief swept through him that Larissa couldn’t see the man. Bad enough she saw the insides of the rooms he rented. He longed to take her to a high-class hotel for the night, or even to a decent chain motel. However, despite the fact that he always paid in cash, such places would still demand a credit card as security.

  “Do you have any rooms with kitchenettes?”

  “What’s that?” the old man shouted.

  “Do you have any rooms with kitchenettes?” he shouted back.

  The old man shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Naw.”

  After much shouting back and forth, he finally got them checked in. “Is that your cat in the parking lot?”

  “Naw. Somebody done dumped it here.”

  “Who feeds it?”

  The old man paused to expectorate into a trashcan. “I reckon it feeds itself.”

  Keeping his opinion of the vile old reprobate to himself, Chase left the office. The cat followed him to his vehicle, winding around his feet and meowing loudly. He moved the vehicle down to the room at the end. When he emerged, the cat was already there waiting for him and the moment he opened the door to the room, it shot inside.

  * * * * *

  Larissa normally heaved a sigh of relief upon departing the cramped confines of the van’s cargo compartment, but now she would have preferred to spend the entire night inside the vehicle.

  That afternoon, a whipping hadn’t seemed so egregious when weighed against spending an entire day wearing the ball gag. Now, however, with her punishment looming near at hand, she desperately regretted the decision she’d made. What made it worse was she’d given her solemn word not to attempt to dissuade him from it.

  She jerked as the cargo door slid open. “Larissa, you’re not allergic to cats, are you?” Puzzled by the question, she shook her head.

  Once they were in the room and she heard the frantic meowing, she understood. After he’d removed the gag and blindfold, she perched on the edge of the bed, anxiously bouncing her knees. While the pitiful little cat twined frantically around his ankles, he opened a packet of tuna, dumped the contents onto a plate, and set it on the floor. As the bedraggled creature tore ravenously into it, her kidnapper squatted beside it to run gentle hands along its skeletal sides.

  He looked up at her. “The poor thing’s half-starved. If you don’t mind having peanut butter yet again, the cat can have the other packet of tuna for breakfast.”

  Larissa stared at him. He’d sacrificed his own dinner for a stray cat but, not only would he not let her go, he was planning to whip her as well. Angry tears welled up to blur her vision. “Peanut butter will be fine.”

  He regarded her for a moment, the eyes behind the mask unreadable. “What’s wrong?”

  She turned away and wiped her eyes. “Maybe I am a little allergic to cats.”

  “I’ll put it outside.”

  “No. Let it stay.”

  He pulled her to her feet and, clasping her face between his palms, thumbed the tears from her cheeks. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m not crying! My eyes are watering.”

  “Well, make them stop. I’m not going to whip you.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Despite what I said, I wouldn’t really take a belt to you. But I won’t hesitate to spank your bare bottom with my hand, so watch your step.”

  She sniffed, and blinked away the last of her tears. “You’re a pervert.”

  He was still clasping her face, gazing down at her with a look so intense that she sucked in her breath.

  He was delivering her tomorrow, which meant that, whatever she was going to do, she had to do it soon. Rising up on her toes, she grasped the back of his head and pulled his mouth down to hers. He stiffened for a moment, then slide his fingers into her hair and devoured her mouth with his own. As every nerve ending in her body started firing in anticipation, a surge of delicious tension settled as a searing ache between her thighs. Sliding her hands up under his shirt, she ran her hands across his chest, feeling the springy hair and the hard muscles beneath. His nipples sprang to attention when she circled them with her thumbs.

  Groaning, he abruptly broke off the kiss and released her. “Jesus, Larissa, what the hell are you doing?”

  Dizzy with desire, she swayed on her feet. He grasped her upper arms to steady her. Her heartbeat thundered wildly as blood surged through her veins, and she struggled to bring him into focus. “Expressing my appreciation for you not whipping me
,” she managed finally.

  “A simple thank you would have sufficed.” With obvious reluctance, he released her and took a step back. “Are you hungry?”

  “Actually, I’d like a shower.”

  He inclined his head toward the bathroom. “Go ahead.”

  “If I go first there’ll be no hot water when I’m finished.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “Of course, we could be ecologically minded and shower together.”

  The hot stare he fixed her with was thoroughly unsettling, and she could see he was imagining that very scenario. Then he blew out a long, slow breath. “Not a good idea.”

  She watched as he shifted the swollen flesh in his jeans to a more comfortable position. “Somehow, I don’t think you really mean that.” Although she’d never been sexually bold, now was not the time for reticence. She stroked a hand up the rock-hard outline of his penis, and grinned when he jerked away from her touch.

  “Stop it.” He quickly secured her to the bed, took a shower, and released her again. Intensely aware of the sexual undercurrents in the small room, she moved over to the dresser to get clean clothes and toiletries from the garbage bags containing her belongings. In the process, she casually removed her athletic shoes and sat them on the corner of the dresser where she’d be able to locate them easily in the dark.

  She took her time in the shower. For some reason, she believed him when he said that her description of Sparrow didn’t fit that of the man who’d hired him. However, that only meant Sparrow had used a go-between. Whatever information he’d been given, though, had obviously convinced him she was in no imminent peril. It was painfully clear that no matter what she said, no matter how hard she pleaded, he wasn’t going to free her.

  Since he was delivering her tomorrow, she had to get away tonight. Oddly, a strange excitement throbbed in her veins, the same feeling she imagined soldiers must experience right before a battle. Steely resolve and jittery anticipation merged with adrenalizing fear in an electrifying mixture that honed her senses to a razor sharpness.

  Acutely aware of the bathroom’s open door, she exited the shower to dry off, then stood naked before the small vanity and blow-dried her hair. When he appeared before the doorway, she pretended not to notice him. He stood there briefly before moving out of sight, and she hoped he’d enjoyed the view.

  Forgoing the sport bra, she pulled a tee shirt over her head and stepped into her last fresh pair of yoga pants. She then took a deep, steadying breath, allowing the promise of freedom to fortify her will.

  Although he’d insisted that under no circumstances would he have sex with her, they were about to see just how much self-discipline he had. Gathering her resolve, she took another deep, calming breath. She could do this. She had to do this. Her very life depended upon it.

  Just think sexy thoughts, she told her reflection.

  Tweaking her nipples to make them stand at attention, she sauntered out of the bathroom. He slouched, shirtless and barefoot, in a chair in front of the door, the little cat curled in his lap as he watched the room’s battered television.

  “Anything good on?”

  His eyes flicked up and down her body, coming to rest on her chest. “Just the usual drivel.”

  She returned her toiletries to the bag on the dresser, relieved to see her athletic shoes still sitting where she’d left them. Fishing a bottle of lotion from the bag, she crossed the room to stand in front of him. “My shoulders are killing me. Could I trouble you for another massage?” Before he could refuse, she handed him the bottle and boldly pulled her tee shirt off, revealing a luscious pair of breasts. When he finally managed to raise his gaze back to her face, she turned and settled to the floor between his knees.

  CHAPTER 14

  Chase gazed down at Larissa’s bare shoulders and back. First, she’d kissed him. Then she’d stood naked in the bathroom, knowing that he’d glance in to check on her. It had been extremely difficult to look away. And now this.

  While his cock rapidly tented his pajama bottoms, he began to question his ability to honor his oath not to bed her. His desire for her was becoming a fever, a gnawing, unrelenting need that threatened to overwhelm him. His Special Forces training had made him into a man of exceptional fortitude. Still, he was but a man.

  And at the moment, a man under extreme duress.

  Releasing a sigh of exasperation, he removed the cat from his lap and set it on the floor. The bedraggled little calico regarded him with wide-eyed indignation, then claimed a spot on the foot of the bed and became engrossed in cleaning a paw.

  Chase scooted forward a little, framing her bare torso with his thighs, and pushed her hair forward, out of the way. He popped the cap, squirted some lotion into his hands and, trying to ignore the fact that she was naked from the waist up, pressed his thumbs into the knots in her shoulders and began working them out.

  She groaned in relief, her voice low and throaty as she drawled, “Oh, that feels wonderful.”

  The smooth curve of the back of her slender neck drew his eyes. He couldn’t help but remember her reaction when he’d bitten her there the night before, and imagined leaning down to her and doing so again.

  Shit.

  Blinking away the taboo vision, he shifted his gaze over her head to the television. For the next twenty minutes he valiantly tried to focus his attention on a brainless sitcom as his hands pressed and kneaded the lean, toned muscles under the satin of her flawless skin.

  When the muscles of her neck and shoulders were once again loose and supple, he gave her a little dismissive push. “There you go.”

  She gracefully rose to her feet and turned to face him. This time he actually managed to keep his eyes above her neck as she tugged the tee shirt back over her head.

  She took the lotion from him and moved behind him. When her lubricated hands came down on his bare shoulders, he jerked and twisted around. “What are you doing?”

  “Returning the favor.”

  “Not necessary.”

  “Sit back and relax. I don’t bite.” When he simply regarded her with raised brows, she admitted, “Okay, that’s not true. I do bite.”

  “Larissa, I know what you’re doing. Just last night we discussed the prospect of your attempting to seduce me and, as I recall, we both agreed that it wouldn’t work.

  “We agreed I wouldn’t succeed in persuading you to let me go, but this is merely a massage, not a seduction. What’s it going to hurt?”

  What indeed? Finally, he settled back. Her hands were strong and her fingers dug skillfully into his muscles. Until now, he’d not realized how tense he truly was. As she worked on his shoulders, he closed his eyes and tried simply to enjoy the massage, but it was impossible to ignore the sexual tension that hung heavy in the air.

  When her hands started down his chest, heading straight for his nipples, he shoved them aside and abruptly got to his feet.

  Green eyes sparkled with mischief. “I declare, you’re as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night.”

  When she moved toward him, he extended one hand to hold her at arm’s length. “Go sit on the bed before you embarrass yourself.”

  Her eyes dropped to his crotch, and a knowing smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “It’s obvious you want to.”

  “We’ve already discussed this. What I’d like to do, and what I will do, are two completely different matters.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  He grabbed his leather belt from the top of the dresser. Doubling it, he grasped the two ends in one hand, wrapped it once around his fist, and slapped the leather against his opposite palm.

  Her smile quavered. “You already admitted you wouldn’t whip me.”

  “I wouldn’t whip you for trying to escape since, as you pointed out, that’s your duty. But I will whip you to make you behave, so don’t push me.”

  Her teeth fastened seductively on her lower lip. “No, you won’t.”

  “If you’re so certain of that, drop your pants and be
nd over the bed.” He thwapped the belt loudly onto the surface of the dresser for emphasis, making her entire body twitch. “And I promise I will enjoy it.”

  Unwilling to call his bluff, she backed toward the bed and dropped onto the edge. “You really are a pervert.”

  “I thought we’d already established that. Are you going to be good?”

  The smile reappeared. “I’m always good.”

  Needing a distraction, he dropped to the floor and began doing pushups. Propping herself on one elbow, she watched, her eyes seeming to devour his body. Uncomfortably aware of the heat of her gaze on him, he said, “Why don’t you do some yoga?”

  “I’d rather lie here and enjoy the view.” When the cat rubbed against her, demanding to be petted, she happily obliged, all the while never removing her green gaze from him.

  When he finished his pushups, he rolled over and began doing crunches. He did two hundred, and then finished up with squats. Feeling only slightly more in control of himself now, he walked over to the bed and picked up the handcuffs. “Do you need to use the restroom?”

  She sighed irritably. “No. Hey, don’t forget my sleeping pill.” When he produced a capsule, she said, “Since you’re so determined to maintain your chastity, I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight, so can I have two?”

  Last night’s fondling incident proved she was building up a tolerance to the pills and, since he definitely did not want an encore performance, giving her an extra might be wise. He placed two capsules on her tongue, she raised the water bottle to her lips, swallowed, and said, “For the rest of your life you’re going to wonder what it would have been like between us. And you know it would have been fantastic.”

  It was true, so unbearably true that, as his erection throbbed almost painfully, he whispered, “Shut up, Larissa. Please. Just. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

  His hands were almost shaking as he handcuffed her and secured the cuffs to the headboard.

  As he shaved and brushed his teeth, he mentally castigated himself for having managed this situation so ineptly. His first and biggest mistake had been in conversing with a captive. But she’d been so frightened that first night that he hadn’t been able to resist trying to allay those fears and, once the conversational door had been opened, it’d been impossible to close it again. Because he’d failed to maintain a professional distance, he’d been unable to avoid developing an unfortunate affection for her and, in consequence, had lost a great deal of control over the situation.