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Authors: Lauren Bach

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Lone Rider (14 page)

BOOK: Lone Rider
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Tess’ arms found their way around his neck, her hands tugging at the thick silk of his long hair as she pushed up on tiptoes, opening to his kiss, lowering her guard. She felt his hands move down, inching slowly beneath her jacket. His fingers skimmed her ribs.

With exquisite tenderness he grazed the undersides of her breasts through her clothes, his knuckles sensitizing the skin. For a moment she imagined his hands on her bare flesh, his fingers on her breasts. Her nipples hardened. Breathing was suddenly difficult. She flexed her hands, rubbing his neck.

“I want you, Tess.”  He groaned, pressing forward, letting her feel the proof of his arousal, desperately wishing she’d caress him
there.

Waves of uncertain delight battered her, making it hard to think. His low growl sent goose
bumps zinging up her spine. She had already tugged his T-shirt free -- when? -- and edged her fingers into the waistband of his jeans
,
fidgeting with the top button. Seeking.

The thought that she wanted to touch him intimately shocked Tess. She couldn’t deny that his kiss was exciting. That she craved his touch. That she wanted
more.
..

Dear God, what was she doing? She pushed away, confused by her reaction, afraid of how he’d interpret her response. She felt her face flame with embarrassment, glad for the cover of darkness. Why had she let him kiss her, touch her? Why had she touched him?

             
And worse, how could she enjoy it?

             
For a long moment the only sound she heard was their breathing. Heavy. Hot. Unsatisfied. Then
Dallas
reached for her hand, drawing it to his mouth. Ever so gently he pressed a kiss to her open palm and closed her fingers over it.

             
“There’s no denying that something lies between us, Tess. But I want you to know you’re still safe with me.”

             
Tess snapped her hand back, grasping for anger to conceal the raw ache. “Safe? You expect me to believe that? There’s nothing between us, Dallas. I’m your prisoner. Period.”

             
He watched her stalk away, toward the cabin, and gave her space. She was lying. She wanted him. He knew it just as surely as he knew he wanted her. The problem was she knew he knew now. And under the circumstances that bothered her.

*    *    *

             
Dallas
took another sip of warm beer. The ancient clock above the bar threatened to strike midnight. Behind him pool balls clacked and sank into worn pockets. Last time he checked Snake had been down
twenty bucks and was in a foul
temper.

             
Dallas
’ mood wasn’t any better. He wanted to get on the road and get back to camp. They’d been gone all day transacting business for Bogen, which was bad enough. Then Snake suggested they stop for a beer, which typically wouldn’t have been an issue.

Dallas
had never liked Snake, but he’d always been careful to give him his due as one of the brethren. And
Dallas
had
gleaned a lot of vital information from Snake over the course of his investigation. Drunk, Snake tended to talk too much.

Tonight, though,
Dallas
wasn’t in the mood. They should have been back hours ago. Tess was most likely miserable. Snake knew it, too. This was just another way to get back at
Dallas
for keeping her.

             
Once more
Dallas
’ thoughts strayed to the woman who was chained to his bed. They had barely spoken since he kissed her two nights ago. The sexual tension between them was tangible, a seething caldron on the verge of boiling over. God, he wanted her, needed her even, the same way he physically needed his next breath.

He glanced at the clock once more, mind made up. He was leaving, with or without Snake
, and--

Snake’s voice, from the back of the bar, broke into his thoughts. “You ain’t quitting ‘til I get my dough back.”

Dallas
turned, cursing as he caught sight of Snake threatening his opponent with a cue stick. And sneaking up behind Snake was a man with a chair.

             
“Look out.”  Too late
,
Dallas
yelled a warning. The chair crashed across Snake’s lower back, wood splintering.

Snake doubled over and shook his head, then let out a yell before charging the dumbfounded man who’d hit him. The man hadn’t moved, clearly expecting Snake to go down.

             
Dallas
shoved his way into the melee, intent on dragging Snake away even if it meant knocking him out cold. The bartender was already on the phone calling the cops, which meant they probably had less then five minutes to get the hell out.

             
The wet floor glistened with shattered shards of a beer bottle. A fist glanced off
Dallas
’ jaw.
Dallas
grabbed the man who’d thrown the punch, spinning him around and twisting his arm painfully behind him.

             
“Do that again and I’ll break it,”
Dallas
hissed.

             
The front doors swung open and three deputies hurried in. “Freeze! Sheriff’s department!”

             
“Jesus, he’s breaking my arm.”  The man
Dallas
held started squealing in a high-pitched voice, switching easily from aggressor to victim. “Make him stop! Officer!”

             
Two of the deputies had weapons drawn. Simultaneously they pointed them at
Dallas
. “Hands on your head, scumbag.”

             
Moving slowly,
Dallas
released the man and did exactly as the deputies instructed. In seconds he was flat on his stomach, his wrists cuffed behind him.

             
“You guys wanna help me with this one?” the third deputy asked.

             
Dallas
twisted his head, catching sight of Snake standing in the corner, a broken cue stick held threateningly out in front of him.

             
“Drop the stick, now!” one of the officers commanded.

             
Snake smiled maliciously. “Why don’t you try and take it?”

             
The question went unanswered as a fourth officer, who’d crept in the back door, hit Snake on the back of the head with his black baton. Snake crumpled, dropping in an unconscious heap on the floor.

             
One of the officers radioed for an ambulance while rough hands yanked
Dallas
to his feet. Shoving him forward against the pool table, another deputy patted him down searching for weapons. They confiscated his knife.

“You’re under arrest, pal.”  The deputy grinned, clearly enjoying the feeling of power his badge inferred. “Disorderly conduct. Assault and battery. You have the right to remain silent...”

             
Dallas
knew they were going to jail, knew there was nothing he could do about it. The best he could do was cooperate, act drunk, in hopes they’d get him processed into the local jail as soon as possible. He had a phone call coming
,
and the sooner he made it the better.

*     *     *

             
Tess shifted on the bed, the handcuff chains clanking. This tactic was new. Abandonment? It was nearly two in the morning.

Dallas
had
never
left her this long before. She shifted her arms, trying to burrow further beneath the tangled blankets.

Things had been more stilted than usual between her and Dallas the last few days. He had avoided her since the other night, when they’d watched the deer. He’d even spent the past two nights on the couch, though she knew he wasn’t sleeping. She heard him pace, no more able to sleep then he was. It bothered her more than she cared to admit, for in the final analysis he was her only affirmation that life existed outside her immediate surroundings.

             
When he was around he barely spoke to her. Of course, she’d started that. She had been mad at him for kissing her. For making her feel things for him that she shouldn’t. But what had made her think the silent treatment would gain her anything?

Dallas
held all the cards in this game. More and more it felt as if he held all her emotions as well. Yeah, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But that didn’t change the situation.

Right now she desperately wanted, needed, to see
Dallas
. And not just for food, or to get up. She needed to know he was coming back.

She heard a noise at the door and strained to listen. Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes.
Dallas
! Thank God! She struggled to sit up, determined to do whatever it took to make things right between them again. She never wanted to be left alone like this again.

Her apology died on her lips when the door was flung open and the overhead light cruelly snapped on, temporarily blinding her.

“Boo! Bet you thought you’d seen the last of us.”  Eddie stood in the doorway
,
then strolled over to the bed. Duke followed, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Tess cringed, moving back against the headboard, her range of movement severely limited. “Get out of here!”

“Miss High-and-
Mighty thinks she can tell us what to do.” Eddie sneered, his eyes raking slowly over her. “I bet Haynes had fun taking you down a peg or two. Fucked you silly, huh?”

Had?
Her mind seized ruthlessly on the word. Past tense. Tess’ heart bumped painfully against her Adam’s apple. “Where’s
Dallas
?”

Ignoring her question, Eddie swaggered closer holding out a handcuff key. “I’d love it if you gave us some trouble.”  He winked lewdly.

The bubble of raw dread that had been building inside her burst as Eddie freed her hands.

“Stand up,” he ordered, grabbing her harshly by the shoulder and jerking her to her feet. “Put your hands behind your back.”

Duke surged forward, shoving Eddie’s hand away. “He said to let her use the john.”

Tess’ hope soared then just as quickly plummeted. These two men were most likely acting on Bogen’s order. “Please, tell me where
Dallas
is.”

Eddie’s hand bit into the soft flesh of her upper arm as he propelled her, ungently, toward the door. “All you need to know is he ain’t here, lady.”  His lips stretched into a depraved smile. “And we are.”

*     *     *

When Eddie and Duke took her from the cabin she’d had no idea where they were taking her, or worse, what their intentions were. And her mind
readily supplied all the worst-
case scenarios.

To her dismay, they locked her in the dark pantry at Bogen’s house. She’d fought and lost. And this time, besides leaving her hands cuffed, they gagged her and bound her ankles with heavy rope.

Perspiration soaked the thin shirt she wore. She had
been
surprised when they left her untouched.

It seemed she had escaped rape...for the momen
t at least. But who knew what lay
ahead. Thankfully, she hadn’t been drugged, though depending on what happe
ned next, she might wish she had been
. She recalled
Dallas
’ description of enforced servitude, wanting to vomit at the thought of the pain, the abuse that awaited her.
White slavery
. She wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

She no longer tried to stop the tears from tracking down her cheeks. She felt miserable and frightened, scared of what was to come. And she knew it would be awful. With
Dallas
she had maintained hope, maintained a belief that in some crazy way it would all work out. Now that hope was gone.

Ignoring the roiling of her stomach, she tried to breathe deeply, fighting the distressing blackness simmering at the edge of her mind. As much as she hated her present predicament, the thought of passing out and waking up in a worse scenario was beyond imagining.

She huddled in the corner, listening for what seemed like hours
,
but the house remained quiet. Her scattered thoughts turned to
Dallas
again and again. Why hadn’t he returned? She couldn’t believe he had turned her over to Bogen.

Unless...something had happened to him. Her chest squeezed painfully at the thought. Was he injured, hurt?

Or had he simply tired of her and wanted her out of his life?

No. She refused to believe that.
Dallas
had been right. There was something between them, a bond, a link. Something more than the ever-present, physical attraction. As much as she tried to deny it or ignore it, it was there.

BOOK: Lone Rider
7.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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