by Lora Leigh
His brow lifted mockingly. “You would lie for something so small?” he asked with sarcastic disbelief. “Don’t make this any harder on yourself than it already is,” he suggested easily. “Come on, tell me who you are and we’ll go get the cat.”
Melina drew in a tired breath.
“Catarina Angeles,” she finally said, fighting to hold her temper back now. If she let her anger free, she would never see Mason again.
He shook his head slowly, destroying any hope she had that he would, by chance, let this go. “Nope. Come on, sugarplum, full name. Admit to who you are and we’ll go get the cat. Otherwise, he takes his chances outside.”
She met his gaze directly, holding back the screams that longed to pour from her throat. “Don’t do this.”
Could she survive without Mason? She shuddered at the thought of the nightmares that were sure to come without his comforting presence. How would she hold onto her sanity without something or someone to comfort her?
“Your name,” he demanded again.
“Maria Catarina Angeles,” she whispered despondently. It wasn’t the first time she had done so, but at least this time it served her rather than someone else. “May I please have my cat now?”
* * * * *
He should have been satisfied. Luc stared at the expressionless face, the weary green eyes, and felt anything but satisfaction. He felt like a damned monster. She had spoken the words as her shoulders lowered marginally, as though the weight of the admission had placed an invisible burden on her that was too great to bear.
The admission, though given as he asked, was voiced with such a lack of emotion that it made him regret forcing the issue. And her eyes. If he had ever seen such weary resignation in a woman’s eyes, he couldn’t remember it. They darkened, turning so vulnerable, so filled with shadows and pain that something about it twisted his heart.
She had spoken the words with an automation that seemed almost…rehearsed. He tilted his head, watching, as she stood silent and cool in front of him. Her fury of earlier that morning seemed extinguished and weariness had taken its place. He felt like a complete bastard and didn’t even know why. Damn her. It wasn’t his fault she wanted to play games.
He hated cats. What in the hell possessed him to consider letting that demon into his house? He probably sheds, Luc thought in disgust. Just what he needed. But he’d be damned if he could stand that look in those dark velvet-green eyes. They were haunted, filled with an inner pain that he couldn’t quite describe. A pain he had caused.
He snarled silently, lifting his lips in self-derision as he grunted in irritation.
“Come on, let’s go get the bastard. But if he scratches me again I’ll feed him to my dogs. He’d make a hell of a snack.”
Chapter Seven
The barn was within sight of the house, but still nearly an acre separated it from the main building. Melina moved quickly behind Luc as his long legs ate up the distance. She couldn’t keep her eyes off his strongly curved ass, no matter how hard she tried, or the bunch and flex of his hard thighs beneath his jeans. He had the long-legged, gaited walk of a cowboy. That undefined, strolling strut that made a woman’s mouth water and her fingers itch to clench into all that male strength moving so temptingly before her eyes.
His buttocks were lusciously curved for a man and the low riding jeans showed them off to perfection. His back was like granite beneath the T-shirt, each muscle defined by the cloth that had been tucked into his pants. The whole picture was irritatingly sexy. She didn’t want to lust for him anymore. It was fine when he was just a distant figure she could drool over in private, but now? She snorted silently. He had to be the most aggravating, ill-tempered man she had laid eyes on in her life. But, good heavens, if he wasn’t the most delicious looking man she had ever seen.
Melina grimaced in self-disgust. The man had literally forced her into lying about who she was. He had blackmailed her with poor Mason’s helpless life, and she was lusting over him. Her cunt was weeping, not just wet, but drooling in hunger. Like a man starved and presented a banquet, only to be told he couldn’t partake. It wasn’t fair. It was the most unjust act of deprivation where sexuality was concerned that she could have envisioned.
Following close behind him, her head lowered, her gaze on the delicious curves of his male rear, she was completely unprepared for his abrupt stop.
“Omphf.” She smacked into his back, stumbling, her face flaming as he turned to her and shot her a frown.
“Are you okay?” His hand shot out, gripping her arm as she jumped back again and nearly fell flat on her ass. “Dammit, you can’t be on anything. I made sure there wasn’t a pill in the house before I kidnapped you.”
God, he would be perfect if he would just keep his damned mouth shut.
Jerking her arm back she flashed him a look, intending to convey the pure violence toward him that suddenly surged in her head. Too bad her body wasn’t listening.
“Moron,” she sniffed, moving around him to the open doors of the barn. “I assume this is where Mason is?”
As she spoke, a cat’s plaintive wail filled the air, causing her eyes to widen at the lost, pitiful sound. She turned, shot Luc a look that promised retribution and moved quickly into the shadowed interior.
“Mason.” She gasped in surprise at the bedraggled black ball of fur that cried out at her from a bed of straw.
He was pitiful. Dusty, his fur matted, his amazing blue eyes damp and miserable. He wailed again, a feline sound of misery that broke her heart as she went to her knees in front of him and pulled him gently into her arms.
“Oh, Mason,” she whispered against his once soft coat, ignoring the bite of his claws into her arms as he cried out plaintively once again. “My poor baby. That’s okay. I’ll take care of you now.” She turned back to Luc, ignoring his dark frown. “You have abused my cat. There’s no excuse for that, Luc. I didn’t think you could truly be cruel until now.”
His brows lifted in surprise, his hands going automatically to his hips as he stared back at her incredulously.
“Abuse? The little bastard was doing his best to take a bite out of me. All I did was shoot him a time or two with the water hose. Hell, he barely got wet.”
Mason wailed again as Melina groaned silently. The water hose? Oh hell, Mason detested getting wet.
“He will hate you for life now.” She sighed as she shook her head. This was not going to be a pleasant incarceration.
“This is supposed to bother me?” He arched a brow mockingly.
Melina smiled tightly. “Well, let’s see, I paid your blackmail for him, which means he’s now a resident in your home. Let’s pray there’s no leather furniture, shoes or boots you’re particularly attached to. If so, they’re his the minute he gets his chance.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll kill him.”
“Tsk tsk, Luc.” She shook her head with a knowing smile. “You gave your word, remember? I upheld my end, and I didn’t tell you to abuse him, so…” She shrugged. “Unless your word means nothing, I guess you’re just screwed.”
“As long as it’s by you,” he murmured, his voice dropping, deepening to such a sensual pitch that chills chased over her flesh.
Melina swallowed nervously, her grip tightening on the bedraggled Mason as she fought back the panic welling in her chest. God, it was bad enough she ached for Luc; he did not have to make it worse.
“Only in your wildest dreams, cowboy,” she snapped. “Now I need to feed Mason.”
That brow arched again. That was never a good sign.
“Was feeding him part of the deal?” He surveyed the cat thoughtfully. “I don’t remember that part, sweet pea.”
“You’ve got all you’re going to get from me, Jardin,” she warned him quietly. “More than you know. If you want any cooperation from me at all, you’ll let this go.”
Her voice was quiet, her look direct. She could go so far, and only so far. She could see the way his mind was working and she would
be damned if she would whore herself to feed her cat. She had, quite literally, had enough. Good looking was all fine and well, sexy as hell was even better, but there came a point when what came out of a man’s mouth just overwhelmed any appeal he might have. Luc Jardin was easing into that shadowed area really fast.
“Hmm.” The rumbled sound skated over her spine with a sensation too close to anticipation to suit her. When combined with the drowsy sensuality in his gaze, it was potent. “Come on. I’ll get you started in the house. Keep that mouse chaser away from my leather or your ass will hurt for it, not his. I’ll outline your duties and we’ll see how appreciative you can be of my generosity.”
“If you had any generosity, I might appreciate it,” she grunted as she turned back toward the house.
She could only imagine what her “duties” would entail. If he thought cleaning that nasty house was going to be much of a chore he was dead wrong. The house was a dream and it was a sin, the shape it was in.
“Careful, sweet pea,” he said as she passed, his voice diabolical in its sexuality. “I just might show you exactly how generous I can be.”
And if she remembered correctly, he had plenty of reason to threaten generosity. The memory of the head of his cock resting on her lips, the small pearl of seed catching on the lower curve, slammed into her. She could almost taste the heady male essence of him once again. And that wasn’t a good thing. He didn’t need more ammunition to use against her.
“As I said,” she shrugged, feigning nonchalance with no small amount of effort, “only in your dreams, cowboy.”
* * * * *
His dreams could get pretty vivid. Luc followed her closely, watching the smooth sway of her shapely hips as he listened to that damned cat cry. But he could handle the feline theatrics for the chance of watching that pert little ass bump and sway across his ranch yard. And he owed her. He was well aware of why she had walked into his back earlier.
He had felt the heat of her gaze on his ass as he walked in front of her. It had been a bit disconcerting, a sensation he wasn’t used to. Never had he felt a woman watching him like that, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt where her look was directed. And he was fairly confident she was pleased with what she was watching. But no more than he was.
He smirked as he noticed her efforts to control the ultra feminine sway of her hips. Could she feel his gaze as well? Hell, yes she could, he thought a second later, refusing to believe he was the only one in torment. That would not be acceptable.
He couldn’t remember Catarina inspiring this hunger in him two years before. He had been amused. Hell, he had been willing to fuck the tempting little redhead, but he hadn’t hungered for her. He hungered for her now. If he didn’t trust Joe so damned much, he would half suspect she really wasn’t the woman who had gone to her knees with an experience he couldn’t imagine her possessing now.
Luc shook his head as they neared the porch of the ranch house. The cat wailed again. Dammit, that fat black excuse for a mouse chaser was going to be in his house, shedding on his furniture, likely eating his food and tormenting the hell out of him. And only God knew what his wolf hybrid, Lobo, was going to think of the addition to the house. He only hoped his canine friend was as well trained as he had tried to teach him to be. Otherwise, that cat would be wolf chow and an unpleasant memory in a matter of hours.
Chapter Eight
It wasn’t that the punishment was onerous; it was that the situation was pissing her off, Melina thought as she prepared to sneak out of the house. Cleaning house was child’s play, and cooking was one of her favorite hobbies. Not that she had let Mr. Neanderthal know that. She had stayed mulishly silent, procrastinated, shot him ill looks as he watched her and generally did her best to get out of whatever work he assigned her after the confrontation the day before. She could tell it was no more than he expected.
She loved the house. But it wasn’t her house and she wasn’t Maria, and she sure as hell didn’t think much of his stubbornness and refusal to hear the truth. Furthermore, she wasn’t going to calmly bow her head and accept his idea of punishment. She was finished with playing Maria the day she had nearly died in that jail cell.
“Come on, Mason,” she whispered as she lifted the fat cat and slid him carefully into the sling she had made of one of the pillowcases. She wasn’t about to toss him down two stories. He would never forgive her, and it would be her luck instead of landing on his feet he would probably end up landing on his oversized head.
The bed sheets were tied together and anchored to the heavy leg of the bed, giving her just enough room to slide down to about a four-foot drop below the end of the sheet. Mr. Know-it-all had locked the door to her bedroom but he had forgotten about the windows, she snickered.
Mason sighed his little breath of boredom as she slid the sling to her back and crawled over the window ledge. Gripping the sheet she slid carefully down its length until she was forced to let go of the material and drop the final distance.
She landed easily and smiled in triumph. She had no idea where she was, but she would find out fast enough. There was a road that led to the house, and roads always ran into towns some damned place. It might take a while to walk out of there, but at least she was free. Free of Lucas Jardin’s sexy drawl, the heat that emanated from his big body and his sexy smile. Free from the temptation those two years of sexual fantasies had caused.
Moving quickly she sprinted across the flat harsh terrain, keeping the road in sight but staying a careful distance from it. If he happened to check on her and find her gone, he would most likely start searching the road first. Melina assured herself she wouldn’t be a stupid escapee. She was going to succeed.
* * * * *
Well, he had wondered how long it would take her to make her first escape attempt. Luc chuckled in amusement as he caught sight of the sheets tied together and leading out of the window to the ranch yard below. His little captive had sprung her cage, and rather than the fury he would have expected, he felt anticipation rising instead.
She intrigued him. Damned if she didn’t. He hadn’t expected to be touched, amused or intrigued by her, but he was. And damned if the thought of chasing her wasn’t giving him a hard-on like no other he had ever had before.
Shaking his head at the phenomena he moved back to his bedroom, collected his rifle and commanded Lobo to follow him. The wolf hybrid would be a hell of a surprise when he managed to track her down. Lobo wouldn’t eat her or the cat, but he would give her an idea of what could be waiting on her when she roamed the East Texas landscape alone.
The wolf followed at his heels as he moved through the house and out to the back yard. Using the small penlight he carried, he checked the tracks under the sheet and estimated she had a good thirty minutes head start on him. Not nearly enough to do her any good.
Shaking his head as he smothered his laughter, Luc cut a large strip of the sheet off and lowered it to Lobo to get a good sniff.
“Find our girl, Lobo,” he said softly as he smiled in anticipation. “I’ll be right behind you.”
What was it about her? Luc shook his head as he set off after the animal. There wasn’t a chance in hell that she wasn’t Maria, but things weren’t adding up. This was a drug addicted, spoiled little rich girl he was holding captive. But there were no needle tracks on her arm; her skin was creamy and silky smooth, rather than sallow and pale as he remembered it two years before.
Her eyes were a vivid, dark green, her body lush and graceful with the most intriguing scent of heat and woman that he had ever smelled. It made him wonder constantly how sweet her pussy would be. And all those lovely red-gold curls that fell around her pixie-like face… It was enough to make a man’s mouth water. Not to mention what it did to his dick.
It wasn’t long before Lobo’s yips alerted Luc to the fact that he had found the little escapee. Luc picked up his pace, jogging in the direction of the wolf’s excited sounds as he carefully herded Maria toward him. He chuckled when he finally hear
d her voice, thick with fear and bravado as Lobo snapped at her heels.
“You think I don’t know he sent you?” she snapped at Lobo as he playfully pounced toward the sack she carried in front of her. Likely that damned cat. “And no, you cannot have Mason.” Yep, it was that damned cat.
Mason’s wail of fear could be heard inside the cloth prison.
“Go away, you flea bitten creature.” He could hear the threat of tears in her voice as he watched her attempt to resume the direction she had been heading. Lobo wasn’t to be denied, though. He nipped at her feet, causing a squeal of outrage to fill the desert night.
“You bite me and I promise you, your master will be bald next time I see him. Stupid cretin. Get away from me.”
Lobo had the tail of her shirt in his mouth, dragging her back, ignoring her desperate swipes at his head as he pulled at her.
Luc stood back and watched. Damn, she was adorable. She called Lobo every nasty name in the book, but as each minute went by he could hear the shadow of laughter thickening in her voice as Lobo played with her.
Lobo growled as she pulled at her shirt, a deep, warning rumble that was nowhere as threatening as Luc would have expected it to be. The wolf normally took his duties a bit more seriously. He was supposed to frighten, not tease.
“I’m not going back there.” She strained against the tugging animal. “Now let me go.”
The shirt ripped, but Lobo wasn’t about to be deterred. He grabbed at her pants leg instead and pulled back sharply, sending her to the ground, flat on that pretty ass. Luc expected her to be up, fighting, raging; instead, he watched as she merely sighed wearily.
“Dammit. I’m going to kill Maria,” he heard her mutter. “I swear to God, first chance I get, I’m killing her.”