Cowboy & the Captive

by Lora Leigh

  He looked at her closely. “Hmm. Not that one could see. But I’ll reserve judgment. You never know what may show up after a good hot shower.”

  She was going to lose her mind. Right there, in a strange bedroom, facing the sexiest most aggravating, arrogant man she had ever laid her eyes on. She was going to commit murder. Namely, on him.

  “Look, Mr. Jardin.” She tried for a smile that held none of the fury she was beginning to feel build up within her. “I’m sure you think what you’re doing is right. I’m certain you’re even convinced you have the right person to punish. But you’re not and you don’t, and I’ll be damned if I’ll pay for anymore of Maria’s sins.”

  He smirked at her. Melina bit her tongue as her eyes narrowed on his smug expression and her fists clenched at her side as she fought not to jump across the bed and claw his eyes out.

  “Sweetheart, I’m sure you wish you had a sister who could get you out of this,” he said complacently. “But since we both know you don’t, you can stop with the innocent act because I’m not buying it.”

  Melina drew in a deep breath. If she could get her hands on Maria she would strangle her now, she thought. As though the past twenty-two years and all the times she had willingly tried to save her sister wasn’t enough. Now, Mr. Hardass, who thought he could reform the wrong damned woman, had kidnapped her. It was too much. Even for her.

  “That’s fine,” she gritted out. “Because I’m not trying to sell a damned thing. I assumed you were a reasonably intelligent person…”

  “Just like you assumed you could let your buddies kill me and Jack when we helped you deliver that crate of drugs?” he asked snidely. “Or how you assumed your parents could ruin the names of two good men when charges were brought against you? How about the assumption that your parents’ money can get you out of anything? This is the end of the line, little girl. You might as well buckle down and save the lies for someone willing to believe them.”

  Melina could feel the fury brewing in her chest. Vivid and hot, it flared in front of her eyes like a matador’s cape.

  “Or save the truth for someone with enough brains to see what’s right in front of his face,” she snapped back heatedly. “Get real, Mr. Jardin. Do I look like a drug addict to you?” She waved her hands to her side, indicating her body.

  She expected him to look; she just didn’t like the flare of arousal that lit his gaze when he did so. Nor did she like the way her nipples beaded as his gaze paused on them, or the heat that flared in her pussy when his eyes then moved to her thighs.

  She could feel her skin sensitizing, her vagina dampening, and she didn’t like the sensations in the least. It was bad enough she had done nothing but fantasize about him for the past two years, she didn’t need to become aroused after he kidnapped her as well.

  “Look, I know you’re angry over what Maria did to you and your friend. But this is a mistake…”

  “The mistake is yours.” His sharp voice caused her to flinch in surprise. “Don’t think for a minute you can lie to me again. Now get your ass in the shower and get ready to face the day or you can get on your knees and see if you can’t convince me another way.”

  On her knees? Convince him? She blinked in outraged surprise at the suggestion. And she was ignoring the crazy flash of desire and hunger that seared her body at just the thought of accepting his cock into her mouth. The brief touch of it on her lips was enough of a temptation, thank you very much. She did not need to find herself lusting after this man anymore than she already did. As a matter of fact, she needed to be as far away from him as possible.

  “You’re crazy. I’m going home. Now.”

  She turned on her heel, heading quickly for the bedroom door. She’d had enough of this. Accepting Maria’s punishment because she decided it was okay was a far cry from accepting because this man decided she would. She didn’t think so. It didn’t matter how big or how good-looking he was. It didn’t matter that he deserved his pound of flesh. She wasn’t about to let him take it out of her hide.

  Her hand had just wrapped around the doorknob, her fingers tightening on it, when a broad palm smacked the wood above her head and a hard male body pressed her tightly against the wall.

  A hard, hot, muscular body. One that surrounded her, his heat pouring off his flesh in waves and wrapping around her. A male presence that smelled of long sultry nights and forbidden desires. Melina swallowed, feeling the aura of danger that suddenly emanated from him.

  “You don’t want to piss me off, little girl,” he warned her softly. “Especially not right now. That bullet you let your friends put in my leg hasn’t been forgotten. Neither is the fact that they would have preferred it being my heart. Now shut the hell up, get your ass in the shower and get dressed. This is a ranch. Everyone does his or her part here, and you’re here to pitch in. Whether you want to or not.”

  He moved then, one hand insinuating itself between the door and her body as he unwrapped her fingers from the knob and pushed her lightly toward the bathroom. She wasn’t about to do a damned thing that he ordered her to do.

  Melina turned, staring back at him furiously, shaking with the need to smack the knowing smirk off his face as she retreated.

  “You’re wrong,” she informed him angrily, though she could tell he had no intention of believing her. “Won’t you even check it out? I have a brother. Joe Angeles. At least contact him. He’ll tell you who I am.”

  She didn’t like the amusement that glinted in his eyes. “He wouldn’t tell me anything new, little girl.”

  “I’m not a little girl.” She felt like stamping her feet in fury. “And I’m not Maria. I have to go home. I have to take care of my cat. Who’s going to take care of my cat?” That sudden, horrifying thought slipped into her mind. She had forgotten all about Mason. Her baby. What would happen to him?

  He would be all alone. He would be frightened without her. Lonely. He had been the only creature in the world who had stayed by her side all these years, and now she wasn’t there to care for him?

  “Don’t worry about that mangy animal,” Luc suddenly snarled. “He’s in the barn with the other—”

  “In the barn?” She practically screamed out in surprise and fury. “You put my cat in the barn? My baby is in the barn?”

  She stared at him, unable to believe the words that came from him. Who would be cruel enough to put sweet little Mason in a barn? He couldn’t do this. Her fingers curled, flexed, as she ached to attack him.

  There went his arms over his chest again. “So?”

  “So. You can’t put Mason in the barn.” She propped her hands on her hips, fighting mad now. She would not allow him to abuse her cat. “You go get him now.”

  He frowned at the harsh demand in her voice.

  “If I were you, I would worry about my own problems, not that black mouse chaser,” he snorted.

  Outrage flew through her. She felt fury vibrating violently through her body.

  “Mason does not chase mice,” she informed him coldly. “And Mason does not sleep in barns. He sleeps in my room, on my bed, next to me. I want my cat. Now.”

  He tilted his head, watching her with a sudden, inquisitive expression.

  “How bad do you want that cat back, Catarina?” he asked her softly.

  She wanted to slap his smug face. At least he was calling her by part of her given name. Even if it was one she shared with Maria. He was going to blackmail her. She could see it in his eyes, in his expression. The son of a bitch was going to use her baby against her. She wanted to tell him to go straight to hell.

  Instead, she gritted her teeth, counted to ten and said, “What do you want?”

  Melina was aware there had to be something wrong with loving a black little ball of fluff that rarely gave her the time of day. Unless she cried. Then, he was all over her, comforting her, letting her hold him, even if it was with an air of supreme boredom. He had gotten her through the past two years when there had been no one else. She wasn’t abou
t to leave him in a dirty, dusty barn.

  Luc stepped back to her, pulling her against his harder, taller body as she stared up at him in shock. She hated the awareness that flared in the pit of her stomach as his hard cock pressed into her. Hated the hunger she could feel welling within her.

  Her lips parted as he stared down at her, his gaze flickering with heat as they settled on her lips. Melina trembled. She could feel her pussy heating, dampening, and cursed her response to him.

  She braced her hands against his shoulders, resisting—not just Luc, but herself as well. He had the most kissable lips she had ever seen on a man. That fuller, lower curve fascinated her, made her want to eat him up. But he had set the boundaries with this kidnapping. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was going to lay down and let him walk all over her. She was tired of being anyone’s doormat.

  “I thought you were my kidnapper, not my rapist,” she snapped when she managed to find her voice. “Let me go, Luc. I won’t whore for my cat. But I’ll be damned if I’ll cooperate in any way without him.”

  His brows snapped into a frown as his arms tightened around her. Eyes narrowing, he gazed down at her thoughtfully for long seconds before slowly releasing her.

  “Take your shower and get dressed. We’ll discuss terms downstairs after you’ve managed to cool off and act decently. I might allow you the cat, if you can control yourself and follow the rules.” With that said, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  She was going to kill him, she assured herself. Then, she was going to kill Maria.

  Chapter Six

  An hour later, freshly showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and white cotton shirt, Melina entered the large kitchen at the far end of the house. The two-story ranch house was laid out fairly simply so the kitchen wasn’t hard to find. Of course, the banging of the cabinet doors might have helped a little.

  Tucking a stray reddish-gold curl behind her ear, Melina checked the French braid she had arranged her hair into for neatness and stepped into the kitchen. She knew the second she walked into the room that she loved it. Too bad it belonged to the big arrogant cowboy frowning into the depths of a cabinet.

  The stove was to die for. It was a modern cook’s dream with a gas grill in the center, four large burners on the side and adequate ventilation above it. The floor was hardwood with an area rug beneath the six chairs and kitchen table that sat near a large picture window. The cabinets were cherry, though dusty and appearing dull in the light of the morning sun. But there were plenty of them. A large central island was located several feet from the sink, yet still near enough to the stove to make it handy.

  It might have been a cook’s dream but it was a housekeeper’s nightmare.

  Luc was turned just slightly away from her, giving her a clear view of his muscular back and the taut, well rounded curves of his butt beneath his snug jeans. He had an ass to die for. The sight of it made her fingers itch with the need to touch. As though she would know what to do with it if she did touch, she told herself sarcastically. But still, she had always admired a nice male backside, and his had to be the best she had seen yet.

  Drawing in a long, deep breath, she glanced away from the temptation.

  “You need to fire your housekeeper,” she told him expressionlessly as she stared around the room once again. “She’s not doing her job.”

  The kitchen resembled the living room she had peeked into, as well as the dining room she had walked through. Dusty, unloved. As though the home wasn’t really a home but merely a place to spend the night.

  Luc turned to look at her, his brows lowered in a dark frown as she hunched her shoulders and tucked her hands into her jeans pockets. She was still dying to claw his eyes out; she figured it better to restrain her hands enough to where she would at least have a second to think before actually trying to do it. He was sure to make her madder before the hour was out.

  She watched as he followed the move, a smirk tilting his lips as though he knew the reason behind it. Melina fought to keep her expression clear, the anger glowing in her chest from reflecting on her face. Damn him. She had never met a man more stubborn in her life.

  Shoring her patience, she straightened her shoulders and met his look head on. She had resigned herself to the fact that he wasn’t going to listen to reason, which meant she was going to have to try to find her own way out. She had a feeling that escaping Luc wouldn’t be easy. But before she could even consider escape, she had to have Mason.

  “I’ve showered, dressed and I’ve met you in the kitchen,” she finally said with careful control. “Now where’s my baby?”

  Irritation flashed in his stormy gray eyes. It was obvious that there was something about her and her cat that he didn’t like. Of course, it could just be Maria he hated, she thought with morbid amusement, which didn’t bode well for her considering he thought she was Maria.

  “How anyone can call that fat-assed black ball of fur a baby is beyond me,” he growled. “That animal should be put down for its temper alone.”

  Melina’s eyes widened in sudden fear at the sincere dislike in his tone and the implied threat to kill the little animal. Her baby. He thought Mason should be killed. And Mason did not have a temper. He was just a little spoiled, that was all. That was no excuse to be mean to him.

  “You hurt Mason and I promise you, I’ll make what Maria did to you look like a day at the park,” she warned him, completely serious now.

  He could punish her all he liked, and in a way she could even make some sort of twisted sense of it. But he wasn’t going to hurt Mason. She had enough of Maria’s thoughtless actions impacting her life in such painful ways. She blamed herself. She had allowed the trend to continue as they got older, but no more. She would not lose anything else due to her sister’s selfishness and utter cruelty.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. She was growing to heartily dislike that action. He was still frowning at her, the low cast of his brows giving his expression a dangerous appearance. Melina fought back her fear as she met his gaze silently.

  “You’re in no position to be giving out threats here, sugarplum,” he told her softly, his voice almost too gentle to suit her. It reminded her of the eye of a violent storm. She would have been more frightened if it weren’t for the fact that she was hopelessly in love with that stupid cat. Even she didn’t understand it.

  “Listen, Mister, I understand you think you have a problem with me. Really, I do,” she assured him sincerely. “I can even, almost, understand the mistake you’re making. But if you harm so much as a hair on Mason’s body, then I promise, you’re going to regret it. That’s my cat. He adopted me when no one else wanted me and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you mistreat him.”

  “Baby, maybe more people would want you if you toed the line a little bit closer. You know. Give a little, get a little?” he suggested mockingly.

  Melina flinched painfully at the cruel words. Give a little, get a little. She would have laughed at the thought if it weren’t so ironic. She had given everything she had for so many years…for nothing. All she had to show for it was a black cat that deigned to curl in her lap and shed on her whenever she became weak enough to cry. But the warmth of his fat little body and his soft purrs had kept her sane through the aftermath of her nightmares.

  “I’m sure you think your opinion of me should matter,” she said reasonably, stilling the furious words that rose to her lips instead. “I’ll even pretend it does for as long as I have to. But not as long as my cat is in that barn suffering.”

  If she could go to jail for Maria, then she could stand up to one temperamental cowboy for her baby. She could think of few things as horrible as that week she had spent in jail for her sister.

  “At least he’s alive,” he grunted hatefully. “Have I mentioned I hate cats?”

  Melina pushed back the fear rising inside her. Maria had nearly caused the death of this man as well as his friend. Killing a cat he believed was hers would be small c
ompared to her crimes. But it was Mason. He didn’t belong to Maria. Maria couldn’t care less and she wouldn’t spend a second grieving for his loss. And she sure as hell wouldn’t care about the pain Melina would suffer without him.

  She bit her lip as she fought the fear that Luc would hurt him. She looked up at him silently, swallowing in dread. She had a feeling her need for comfort from her fears might well be her downfall.

  “Please,” she whispered. “I just want my cat.”

  Melina saw the interest that suddenly flared in his eyes, the knowledge that the animal could be leverage against her that he might not have considered before.

  “In exchange for?” he asked, confirming her worse fears. There wasn’t a lot she would say no to in her effort to save Mason.

  “I already asked what you want.” She tried to still the frustration thickening her voice as she attempted to reason with a man who had already proven himself to be unreasonable. “I’m willing to cooperate as much as possible,” she said nervously. “Fine, you want to punish me for what Maria did, but don’t hurt my cat.”

  If his frown could have grown darker it would have. She saw the anger that instantly flared in his gaze and knew she had just made a major tactical error.

  “Admit to who you are, and we’ll talk.”

  Admit to who she wasn’t. A sense of resignation overcame her. The cost of one small comfort would be once again allowing herself to be mired in Maria’s identity. She slid her hands from her jeans, linking them together, trying to still the tremors that wanted to rush through her body.

  “I told you who I am,” she said as desolation washed over her. “Don’t make me lie to you. Please. Because I will, for this.”

  His arms uncrossed, his thumbs catching at the front of the waistband of his jeans. She shouldn’t notice the tight, hard abs that the action displayed, or the lean, muscular hips and below, the thick bulge of his cock. She shouldn’t be wet, shouldn’t be longing for things she knew she couldn’t have.