by Cassie Miles
“It’s okay to be scared.”
He reached toward her, and she clung to his arm. She’d always been alone with her fear. It felt strange to accept his reassurance. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
She nestled against his firm, smooth chest. Her arms encircled him, and she hung on tight. Another tremble convulsed her body. Tears would have been a relief, but her emotions were tightly snarled. She could only gasp.
Mace stroked between her shoulder blades. “I won’t let anybody hurt you.”
Though his promise seemed impossible, she believed him. He was strong and good. He would protect her. For long moments she clung to him. Gradually her screaming fears became quiet. Her muscles released their fierce tension. Her grip loosened.
She leaned back to look into his face. He was her rescuer, the one good man who could make up for all the evil in the world. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re beginning to trust me.” He gently brushed the hair off her face. “I’m glad.”
“So am I.” She studied the arch of his eyebrow, the fullness of his lips, the smooth sienna tone of his skin. Nicole was suddenly, surprisingly aware that she was in bed with a very sexy man.
And she wanted to please him.
She lay back on the pillows with one arm thrown up over her head. A flannel nightgown wasn’t the slinkiest garment in the world, but she was fairly sure that Mace would get the right idea about her intentions.
“Lie beside me,” she said. “Hold me.”
Though his dark eyes questioned, he did as she requested. His long body stretched out beside her. He was on top of the covers; she was beneath. His muscular arm stretched across her body, and he snuggled her against him with her head resting below his chin.
She inhaled his scent as she rubbed her cheek against his bare chest. With her fingertips she lightly caressed his flesh in widening circles, feeling the muscle beneath the skin and the outline of his rib cage. She found the nub of his nipple.
“Nicole.” His voice was a low, soothing rumble. “Are you aware of what you’re doing?”
“Oh, yes.” She inched up until her face was right next to his. “You’ve been good to me, Mace. I want to make you happy.”
Teasingly she kissed his chin. She nipped lightly at his mouth, caught his lower lip between her teeth and tugged.
His body moved against her. His leg straddled her thigh. Though there were several layers of material between them, she knew he was sexually excited.
Yet, when she tried to kiss him, he dodged. His voice was husky. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Of course I do. You’ve taken care of me, given me a place to stay, fed me.”
When she looked into his eyes, she could see how much he desired her. His gaze was blazing hot.
She whispered, “This is the least I can do to pay you back.”
His voice sounded strangled. “No.”
“Don’t you want to make love to me?”
“More than anything in the world.” But he pushed himself away until he was sitting on the edge of her bed. “But not like this. Not because you’re paying off a debt.”
She didn’t understand. All men wanted to make love all the time. That was the way of the world. “Do you find me unattractive?”
“Nicole, you’re an angel, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I have dreams about your hair, tangling my fingers in your long golden hair.”
“Then kiss me.”
He gently placed his finger across her lips, silencing her. “I want more than your body, Nicole. Someday, when I make love to you, you’ll be ready to give me your heart.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Then he rose from her bed and left the room.
She lay very still in the dim light of the bedside lamp. No man had ever refused her before. No man had ever asked for so much. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted her heart.
Love. The mere whisper of the word struck a chord in her heart, the first note to a crashing symphony. Was it possible to love him?
She rolled over on the bed and buried her face in the pillow. Could she ever give her heart away?
Her cheeks were damp. Her tears had begun to flow. She felt the floodgates burst. Years of suppressed emotions spilled from her. She cried for the loss of her parents, the loss of her innocence. Cleansing tears—all the tears she refused to shed when she’d been abused—poured from her. No holding back, she wept until her eyes ached, until the well was dry, until she fell asleep.
At last her dreams were peaceful and sweet.
Chapter Ten
The next morning Mace sat at the kitchen table, staring into his coffee mug. He’d pretty much decided that he was a pathetic excuse for a man. He’d turned down sex with a goddess. What the hell had he been thinking? It wasn’t as if he’d ever considered himself to be a sensitive guy. And when it came to women, he never got it. He never figured out the right thing to say or the right gift. When relationships fell apart, including his marriage, he didn’t have a clue about what he’d done wrong.
Last night it seemed as though he’d done the right thing with Nicole. Which didn’t include jumping her bones. Damn it.
“You’re grumpy this morning,” Jewel said. “What’s the problem, big brother?”
He wasn’t about to share last night with his smart-aleck sister. “I’ve got stuff on my mind. A kidnapping. Ransom. A pea-brain special agent from the FBI.”
“What do you think of Nicole?”
He looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”
She glanced up from the griddle with a taunting gleam in her eyes. “You like her.”
“Yeah, she’s okay.”
“Ooh, Mace has a girlfriend.” She smirked. “Weren’t you even going to invite me to the wedding?”
“What wedding?”
“The one Daisy is catering.”
The rumor from Las Ranas had already spread this far. Now he was stuck with jokes from his sister and probably from the rest of the local community. “Drop it, okay?”
“Seriously, Mace. I like Nicole. You could do a lot worse.”
He rose from the table. “I’m out of here.”
“Sit down, you big dope.” She set a plate of hot cakes and bacon in front of him. “You need to eat something before you take on the FBI.”
The breakfast smelled great. His hunger warred with his pride. Hunger won. He sat back down and started eating.
When Nicole entered the kitchen, he was aware of a change in the atmosphere. A brightness. A special warmth. What was it about her? In just a few days together, she’d grown on him. He wanted to know her better, to know the secrets of her heart.
“Smells fantastic,” she said. “Sorry I’m too late to help with breakfast, Jewel.”
“You’re not too late to eat. Sit down.”
When she took her place at the end of the table, Mace gazed into her face. In spite of a little puffiness around her eyes, she looked fresh and pretty, as if she had slept peacefully. Her hair was neatly braided, back in control. She offered him a wary smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Good morning, Mace.”
“You’re dressed,” he said.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You could have slept in this morning,” he said. “There’s no need for you to come with me to the cabin. I meant what I said last night. It isn’t your job to deal with the kidnappers.”
“I’m going with you.”
He’d prefer for her to stay here, safe and well protected by his deputies. “Why?”
“I remembered some advice from my mother,” she said solemnly. “Joey helped me when I didn’t have anywhere else to turn. I’ll do the same for him.”
He bit his tongue to keep from arguing with her and telling her that Joey was probably part of the kidnapping scheme and didn’t deserve her loyalty. Nicole’s mind was made up, and Mace had to respect her decision. “We’re leaving in half an hour.”
Jewel placed Nicole’s plate in fro
nt of her and sat down. “Now,” she said, “tell me about this wedding that Daisy is going to cater.”
He groaned. It was going to be a very long and troublesome day.
THE FIRST THING Mace noticed when they arrived at the Wentworth cabin was that Special Agent Heflin had lost some of his spit and polish. He hadn’t shaved. His jeans and turtleneck looked as if he’d slept in them. And he was muttering about not being able to get a decent cup of coffee.
“There’s a coffee machine in the kitchen,” Nicole said. “Why don’t I make a fresh pot?”
“Yes,” Heflin said. “That would be useful.”
The two other agents trailed her into the kitchen while Heflin squared off with Mace. “I’ve thought it over. I can’t accede to the kidnapper’s demands. Nicole can’t talk to them.”
“Fine with me,” Mace said. “Have you considered the consequences?”
“That they’ll kill the victim?” Heflin nodded. “I’ve thought of that. But if I give them the upper hand, I’ve got no leverage for negotiations.”
Mace didn’t envy his position. Nor did he accept Heflin’s reasoning. This situation was largely nonnegotiable, and Heflin was making it more complicated than necessary. “I don’t think Joey would agree with you.”
“There’s no guarantee he’ll be safe whether the ransom is paid or not.”
There was the complicated piece. If Joey was, in fact, an innocent who was not part of the scheme, the kidnappers faced a great risk in releasing him because he could identify them. “When I saw them on the road, they wore ski masks,” Mace said. “Maybe they’ve kept him blindfolded.”
“He’s an artist,” Heflin reminded. “He’s trained to remember visual details.”
“You can’t write him off. We should do what the kidnappers instruct.”
“I want to control the delivery of the ransom so we know Joey is safe when the money is in the kidnappers’ hands.”
“Like a hostage exchange,” Mace said.
“Exactly.”
“What kind of surveillance have you got in place?”
“There’s a chopper standing by at the airport. We have chase teams ready to roll.”
The door to the cabin flew open, and a gray-haired man in an expensive camel-hair overcoat strode inside. “Blake Wentworth.”
He announced his name as though they should be impressed. Behind him, he pulled a large, square, canvas suitcase on wheels. “I’ve got the ransom.”
After Heflin and Mace introduced themselves, Wentworth said, “Where’s the girl?”
Nicole came out of the kitchen. Mace smiled to himself when he noticed that she had resumed the princess attitude she used to disguise her inner turmoil. He could almost imagine the tiara when she presented herself. “Hello, Mr. Wentworth. I’m so pleased to meet you.”
“The girl in the painting,” he said. “You’re very attractive, dear. I understand why my nephew has scheduled so many trips to Elkhorn.”
“Joey and I are friends, nothing more.”
“Come on, Nicole.” Blake grimaced. “I think we all know why you and Joey are living together. You’re after his inheritance, aren’t you?”
She didn’t react, but Mace did. He wanted to punch this hotshot businessman in his pearly-white teeth. “Back off, Blake.”
His steely-eyed gaze transferred from Nicole to Mace. “Excuse me?”
“There’s no need to insult the lady,” Mace said. “If you don’t mind, we have important issues to discuss before the kidnappers call.”
“Such as?” His irritation was evident; Blake didn’t like being called down by a small-town sheriff. “We pay the ransom. Joey is returned. Simple.”
“Not quite,” Heflin said.
While he explained the kidnapper’s demands and his own reluctance to follow them, Blake continued to glare at Mace. They sized each other up, measuring strengths and weaknesses. Physically, Mace was far superior, but Uncle Blake had money and power as the CEO of Wentworth Oil Exploration, an international company. Big deal! All the wealth in the world didn’t compensate for Blake’s impoverished spirit. By attacking Nicole, he showed the baseness of his character.
“…and so,” Heflin concluded, “I should be the one to take the phone call.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Blake said. “We’ll do exactly as the kidnappers demand. Nicole takes the call and follows their instructions.”
Heflin objected, “With all due respect—”
“My nephew Joey might be a waste of skin, but he’s still my nephew, and I want him returned safely. We do it my way.”
“This is my jurisdiction,” Heflin said. “This operation will run according to FBI procedure.”
“Fine. As long as that procedure is to follow the kidnappers’ instructions.” Blake loosened the buttons on his expensive camel coat. “Wentworth Oil Exploration operates in third-world countries where kidnappings with ransom demands sometimes happen. I’ve found that it’s best to do what the kidnappers say.”
“Not according to my information,” Heflin said.
“It’s my money,” Blake said. “I’m calling the shots.”
Mace edged out of the discussion and stood beside Nicole. “Are you okay?”
“I can handle this,” she said quietly. “Actually, I hate that I’m on the same side as Blake.”
The phone rang.
The room went silent.
“Go ahead,” Mace said to Nicole. “Pick it up.”
As she lifted the receiver, the other two agents hurried to monitor their electronic stations. One of them whispered, “Keep them on the line as long as possible.”
“Hello,” she said. Her voice was broadcast over a speaker phone that allowed everyone in the room to hear both sides of the conversation.
“Hello, Nicole.” The voice sounded distorted, mechanically altered. It wasn’t Joey. “Do you have the ransom?”
“Yes,” she said, mindful that she should stretch out the conversation. “I think it’s all here, but I should probably—”
“Take the money and go to Joey’s car. You’ll find a cell phone in the glove compartment. We’ll give you instructions on the phone.”
“Could you repeat that?” she asked.
“If anyone follows you, Joey’s dead. If you’re wearing a bug, Joey’s dead. No helicopters. No electronic surveillance.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” She tried to play for time. “Please repeat everything.”
“Go now.”
The phone call ended abruptly.
Heflin stood behind one of the other agents who was wearing headphones. “Did you get a trace?”
“Sorry,” the other agent said. “It’s the same cell phone. They’re in this area, but I can’t pinpoint the location.”
“Let’s get going,” Blake said. “You heard them.”
“Not so fast,” Helfin said. “We have surveillance possibilities to consider.”
As the men discussed, Nicole sat trembling, afraid that she’d made the wrong decision about delivering the ransom herself. Joey’s dead. The voice on the phone repeated those words twice. If she made a mistake, Joey would be killed. And what about the danger to her?
Fear crept through her, distorting her perceptions. Under threat of violence, she didn’t behave rationally. All she knew how to do was duck and run.
Mace rested his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m coming with you.”
A wave of relief washed over her. She almost collapsed in his arms. Then she remembered. “You can’t come with me. They said no surveillance.”
“They didn’t say you had to be alone in the car.” He turned to Heflin. “I’m assuming you’ve swept the area for bugs and surveillance cameras. The kidnappers aren’t watching the cabin.”
“I guarantee they aren’t.” Heflin said. “I have men posted outside. The kidnappers might be able to watch the road, but they can’t see this cabin.”
“I’m going with Nicole,” Mace said. “I’ll lie dow
n in the back seat so they can’t see me.”
Uncle Blake confronted him. “Don’t try to be a hero, Sheriff.”
“I don’t have to try, sir. It comes naturally.”
Nicole cracked a small smile. Mace was right about being a natural hero. The rest of these men were cracking under the pressure. Only Mace stayed cool and controlled. He was a hero, her hero. He would keep her safe. She said, “Gentlemen, I won’t go through with this unless Mace is with me.”
“Fine,” Heflin said. He gave a small phone to Mace. “This is what you use to communicate with me. Make sure Joey is safe before you release the money.”
There was a flurry of activity. The wheeled suitcase filled with the ransom money was transported to the car while various arguments raged about whether or not to put tracking devices on the car.
Nicole didn’t feel herself walking, but she was somehow behind the steering wheel of Joey’s Beemer. She opened the glove compartment. The car keys were there as was a cell phone. It rang.
“Go ahead,” Mace said from the back seat. “Answer it.”
She pressed Talk and held the phone to her ear. “Hello.”
The mechanical voice answered. “Drive to the first stop sign in Elkhorn, turn right at Elm Street. Stay on that road. I’ll call again in fifteen minutes. Start the car now.”
She disconnected the call and dropped the phone on the passenger seat. “Mace, I’m scared.”
He stretched his arm between the bucket seats and clasped her hand. “You can do this. I’m right here to back you up. What did he say?”
She repeated the instructions. “I’m supposed to start the car now.”
“Go ahead,” Mace said. “Do it.”
Driving carefully, she maneuvered around the several vehicles surrounding her formerly secluded cabin. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel. Every cell in her body screamed with tension.
From the back seat, Mace said, “You’re doing fine.”
