The Girl with the Golden Gun

by Ann Major

  Leaning forward, she dipped her hands in the lukewarm water and rubbed them together. Then she washed her arms off, too.

  “I had a bath…earlier,” she said when she was done.

  “I know. You smelled sweet like soap in the waiting room.”

  So, he’d noticed something nice about her during that awful visit. She smiled and looked up at him. He was still on the porch fiddling with the way each item of clothing was laid out.

  He caught her watching him and stopped dead still. Quickly she looked away. Then her stomach growled, embarrassing her further.

  “Sorry,” she said, blushing shyly.

  He laughed. “You sound hungry.”

  She nodded. “Ravenous.” For some reason she was unable to take her eyes off him.

  “Me, too.”

  He returned to her side, and they spoon-fed themselves steaming spaghetti and spicy beans out of the pots without bothering with the tin plates she’d seen. Once when a noodle dribbled out of her mouth, he smiled. When she sucked it inside her lips, he laughed out loud.

  As they sat together, enjoying their meal, she could feel the tension draining out of her. For so long, she’d been afraid.

  No sooner had she eaten a few spoonfuls of spaghetti than exhaustion overwhelmed her.

  He seemed to sense how tired she was. Leaning over, he took her spoon and set it down on a stone. Then he wrapped his big hand around hers and helped her up. When she stumbled over a rock, she felt his hand move to the small of her back to steady her. “Careful now,” he said as he guided her inside the cabin.

  She liked the kindly concern in his voice and manner even more than the warmth of his fingers against her spine.

  “I’ll get the bucket of hot water,” he said as she sank onto the bed.

  The promise of hot water was tantalizing.

  When he returned, the water sloshed a little as he set the bucket beside her at the foot of the bed. Then he turned to go.

  “But where will you sleep?” she asked.

  “Outside. On the porch. That way I’ll hear…”

  “On the wooden boards?”

  “I’ve slept in the rain in pickup beds when I started out rodeoing.” Suddenly he leaned down and rustled through his backpack. Returning to the bed, he pressed a soft cloth into her fingers. “You can use this old T-shirt of mine as a wash rag. It’s still a little damp from our swim.”

  Bone-weary, she took it. The thought of her bathing seemed to upset him. He turned abruptly, went outside and closed the door behind him. For a long moment she sat there. Finally she dropped the rag in the bucket and wrung it out. Again she paused before pressing the steaming cloth against her face. The heat against her skin seeped inside her and felt too delicious to believe. She closed her eyes and savored the wonder of such a simple comfort as warm water.

  Hardly knowing what she did, she unbuttoned the bodice of her dress and unhooked her bra and ran the warm rag across her throat and breasts. Undoing more buttons, she bared more skin and stroked more of herself with the soothing hot rag. Slipping out of her dress, she washed herself all over. Sighing, feeling almost human again after her bath, she redressed and lay slowly down on the narrow bed.

  The mattress wasn’t soft, and it didn’t smell too good, but unlike the prison, the cabin was quiet. There were no screams or babies crying. Slowly she became aware of the porch boards creaking as Shanghai moved about outside. A faint smile flickered across her face. Even though he could be impossible at times and think the worst of her, just knowing he was so near made the horror of Mexico recede a little.

  Funny, that she hadn’t heard him make a sound until she’d stopped bathing and had lain down. Suddenly he moved, and she saw his shadow clearly through a small window near the front door that she hadn’t noticed before. Had he watched her?

  If he had, she hoped he didn’t think she’d stripped to deliberately entice him. But if he did, what could she do about it?

  “Good night,” she called softly, too tired to worry about anything anymore, even winning his good opinion.

  “Good night.”

  His deep voice sounded strange and hoarse, but it was a comfort. Smiling, her last thoughts of him as she closed her eyes, she was asleep instantly.

  At some point she began dreaming. She was on the yacht with Tavio. Again she was looking over the stern at the skeleton bobbing in the water. Suddenly the skeleton jumped onto the boat and chased her, bones rattling, flames shooting from its eye sockets. Then she screamed and Tavio was there.

  When he grabbed her, she pushed him away and ran, screaming in terror. Desperate to elude him, she hurled her blanket off and began stumbling about the cabin, wildly bumping into things. Not knowing where she was, she crashed into the table.

  “Easy darlin’.”

  She was still half asleep when she focused on the tall, dark shape of a man wrapped in a blanket looming in the doorway.

  “Tavio?” She choked out his name, her muffled voice fearful.

  “So you dream of him?” Shanghai’s jealous comment bit like a snake from across the darkness.

  Shanghai? Even though he sounded furious, her heart lightened.

  Not trusting what she saw, she blinked and continued to stare at him. He glared at her in turn. Relief flooding her, she ran toward him and flung her arms wildly around him.

  “Damn it!” He pulled back. “Don’t touch me when you’re dreaming of that thug.”

  Disoriented, she closed her eyes, and then opened them again.

  “It was only a dream then?” she whispered, still not quite believing her good fortune. “You’re real.” She clutched him tighter even as he tried to recoil from her.

  “Don’t be mad at me—please. I was having a nightmare. It was so awful.” Her hand slid down his chest, her splayed fingers feathering through the wiry dark matt of hair. “I was scared. Out of my mind. But now I’m okay…because you’re here. Because you came…to Mexico. You saved my life…. You don’t know what it was like…down there…with him…all these months.”

  Shanghai pulled back a fraction of an inch.

  “I felt so hopeless…until you came…until you jumped from that helicopter. Chito was minutes away from killing me.”

  Hugging him closer, she clung to his lean waist and pressed her cheek into his bare chest. Even though he was stiff and unyielding, she heard the thundering of his heart beneath her ear. His skin was so hot, as hot as hers. With only the blanket to cover him, the bulge of his sex against her thighs told her all she needed to know.

  “I feel so utterly safe with you.” Her lips brushed his chest. “Like this.”

  “It’s okay,” he said on a sharp intake of breath as she nibbled at his skin.

  “Because you’re here.” She laid her head against his chest again. “I’ll never be able to repay you for this. Neither will Daddy.”

  He sucked in another sharp breath.

  “I’m sorry I mentioned Daddy.”

  Shanghai cursed beneath his breath and then was silent for a long time.

  “You’ll be home tomorrow,” he finally said, but his deep voice was tense again. “With your family. Then you’ll be safe.”

  “But you came. They didn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t make too much of that.” Again he tried to loosen her arms and lead her back to her bed.

  “No…. Just hold me. Stay with me. Don’t ever let me go.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good—”

  “You always reject me. Why?”

  “Because, damn it…just because.”

  “I need you so much. I don’t want to, but I do. I always have.”

  “It’s too soon for this kind of talk between us.”

  “Or not soon enough. When you live day after day thinking it may be your last, you’re afraid not to say the things you feel…when you feel them, because maybe you’ll never get another chance. That’s something I learned in Mexico. And I feel so much right now…for you.”

 
“Mia…”

  “Until you came I didn’t dare to hope for any happiness ever again. I lived moment to moment. You’ve given me my life back.”

  “Cole and Wolf were in the helicopter, too.”

  “You jumped. Does that mean that you like me…just a little?”

  His eyes blazed with an emotion that made the blood pound in her temples. He opened his lips and then stifled a gasp, and said nothing.

  What did he feel for her? Why wouldn’t he tell her?

  “When I woke up alone in here I was so scared,” she whispered.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “But for how long? The Mexicans have brought serious charges against me. What if they try to extradite me?”

  “The Kembles are too well-connected for that. How do you think I got into that prison?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He circled her waist with his arms, which thrilled her because he was no longer trying to push her away. “Let’s just say certain people were handsomely rewarded.”

  She snuggled closer to him. “My family’s involved with corruption in Mexico?”

  His hand caressed her throat and sent waves of warm tingles everywhere. “Don’t be naïve. That’s the way things work a lot of the time—even up here.”

  “So, what are you telling me?”

  “The guys in the gun towers had blanks in their rifles. Everything was going great until your friend, Chito, started shooting at us.”

  “You jumped.”

  “Anybody would have done the same thing.”

  “Would they? You saved me once before. You dove under Daddy’s truck. Old Man Pimbley said if he hadn’t hollered, Daddy would have run over your head.”

  “I get on bulls, remember. I’m a glutton for punishment.”

  His hands continued stroking her hair.

  She shuddered. “Tavio saved my life, too. When I was drowning, he jumped into the gulf and risked his own life to save me. But then he thought I belonged to him. He made claims that you never made. I didn’t want to belong to him. I wanted to go home. And he wouldn’t let me.”

  “Morales took you against your will then?”

  Shanghai’s deep voice held such soft menace, and the dreadful question stirred such terrible memories, she began to tremble.

  “N-no.”

  When Shanghai pushed her away, she flinched at the intensity in his gaze.

  “He never touched me! Not once! I swear!”

  “You swear? Well, I don’t believe you, Mia!” He began to shake his head. “What kind of fool do you take me for?”

  “You want to know something? Bad as he is, Tavio Morales has a better opinion of me than you do! That’s why he never touched me! He wanted me! But he never touched me!”

  Shanghai was still shaking his head. “Don’t do this, Mia. If we have to discuss him, can’t we wait till tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow? Why does everything always have to happen when you say? I think I have a better chance with you tonight!”

  “Hell.” He combed a lock of black hair out of his eyes. “You sense weakness and you go for it! I can’t stand the thought of you with Morales!”

  “Well, maybe neither can I!” Her voice softened. “I want you so much, Shanghai. I want you to believe me, too.” She put her hand on his chest again, stroking his bare shoulders and then his throat. “You have to believe me!”

  He was listening intently, his blue eyes filled with a fierce longing as they roamed her face slowly.

  “I’ve always wanted you, Shanghai. There’s never been anybody else for me! Not him! Not anybody!”

  “Stop it!” he yelled. “Do you really expect me to believe that? I’m a lousy bull rider. You’re a Kemble.”

  “You’re the father of my only child.”

  He took a step back. “Look, I can’t be with you like this. Not now.”

  “Why? Ever since you pulled me out from under Daddy’s tire and I stared up into your eyes, I’ve wanted to be with you. Why is that so wrong when I know you want me, too?”

  “It just is. Go to bed. Get some sleep. You’ll know I was right in the morning.”

  When he took a second step back and then turned to go, she felt like her heart was breaking. They had always communicated much better physically than they did verbally. If she didn’t find a way to make him stay tonight, she might never get another chance.

  “Shanghai—I’m scared. Don’t leave me—Please don’t—”

  She paused. “You know something…something crazy. Sometimes when I was really scared in Mexico, I used to cry out to you. And…and I used to think that you heard me. Sometimes I even heard your voice. It was like you were there.”

  Shanghai turned white. The intensity in his gaze took her breath away.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but more than once you gave me the courage to hang on.”

  Twelve

  Damn. She wasn’t even touching him, and yet he felt so connected to her.

  “Shanghai, I’m serious—it was like you were there…with me in Mexico,” she whispered.

  He’d felt it, too. He’d been sure he was crazy. But just her saying it now tugged at his heart again.

  His pulse thudded so violently, he knew he should run. Instead he remained in the doorway as unable to move as if she’d turned him to stone with a spell.

  “Shanghai. Don’t leave me. I’m scared. I really am.”

  Bullshit.

  And yet deep down he felt concerned about her. Why was he such a fool for her?

  His gaze slid hungrily over her slim form. Too slim. Had Morales mistreated her? Shanghai hadn’t wanted to think about that as he’d gazed at the rounded curve of throat and shoulders, her narrow waist and the swell of her hips. Hell. If he hadn’t just seen her naked when she washed herself, he might be in better shape. Did she know how crazy she was driving him?

  Yeah. She probably knew. No doubt the striptease had been calculated. Not that he hadn’t wanted her even before he’d accidentally glimpsed her bathing through the broken windowpane. That’s why he’d felt such anger when he’d visited her in prison. Whether he had been manipulated or not, the memory of her breasts lit by lamplight while she’d caressed herself with his wet T-shirt would be engraved in his brain forever.

  He’d willed himself to stop watching her and then had stood rooted, unable to move, until she’d dressed and had collapsed on the cot. After that he’d figured maybe he was safe for a while. Then she’d had that damn nightmare that had led to him holding her when he’d worn nothing more than this thin, scratchy blanket. After petting her and having her literally beg him for it, he was rock-hard and burning up.

  He wanted her velvet skin beneath his palms; he wanted his tongue inside her so he could taste her. Being Mia, she was quick to sense his weakness.

  With a wild cry, she raced across the darkness, stopping mere inches from where he stood. Then shyly she placed her hands on his chest. At first she was tentative, her light fingertips trembling as they moved upward and looped around his neck. Because of her tremors, his arms closed around her, and he pulled her close. When he whispered soothing words against the back of her neck, she clung to him, her fingers ruffling through his hair.

  He was losing the battle, sinking fast. Men were weak. At least he was. Beneath her touch, his skin grew hot. When Mia buried her face in the hollow of his throat, and her hips rose to cradle him, he felt himself swell and grow harder. He squeezed her tighter, and still she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. Silently, he half carried, half led her back to bed.

  “Last chance,” he murmured. “Go to sleep.”

  “No. Lie with me here.”

  Her soft seductive tone took his breath away as she took his hand and pulled him down beside her against the heat of her length.

  “You’ve had an awful ordeal,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the impulse to rip his blanket off and strip her so he could feel her skin against his. “But it’s over.”

 
She turned on her side. He felt her warm breath against his forearm before she kissed him there.

  At the touch of her lips a jolt went through him. Numb with pleasure, he kissed her open mouth.

  “Is it over? Will it ever be over? What if the authorities make me go back? What if Tavio comes after me? His people cross the border all the time. He knows about you.”

  “Knows what?”

  “That I care for you.” She kissed his arm again, and the second jolt was electrifying. “I—I told him you’re dead. But if he finds out I lied—”

  “Hush. You’re safe with me now.”

  “You don’t know him. What he’s capable of.”

  “He can’t be worse than a smart, bad-assed bull rider, now can he?”

  Just lying beside her had him on fire. Still shaking, Mia nuzzled closer and pressed her warm, seeking lips against his arm. Just his arm! If she did it again, he would explode.

  “He’s a murderer. He and his men have even killed women. There was this girl…Delia—” Her voice broke on a sob.

  “Don’t,” he warned on a savage breath as he rolled over to face her. “Stop talking about him for God’s sake!”

  “I would if you’d kiss me.”

  “Oh, God.” His hands began to caress her tangled hair. His lips brushed her forehead.

  “Shanghai.” Even as she sighed from his caresses as if in bliss, she moaned in frustration. “On the lips!”

  Suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore, either. Cupping her chin gently, he took her lips in a searing kiss. Mouths fused. Tongues mated. As wildly glorious as ever, she began sucking on his tongue.

  He shuddered. He felt the kiss in the pit of his stomach, in his aching groin—everywhere. Where the hell had she learned to do that?

  In between breaths he managed a question. “Why do you have to be so damn beautiful?

  “Most men wouldn’t object to that,” she teased.

  “I don’t usually.”

  “So it’s just me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You watched me bathe, didn’t you? You wanted to touch me, didn’t you?”

  “You little minx.”

  “Well.” She sounded pleased. “That’s something then.”