“No.” Murphy glanced over at Mari and smiled. The gleam of anticipation in his pale gray eyes sent a shiver coursing up her spine. “That’s too easy. I have something more…personal…in mind for Luke Garrett.”
“Yeah?” Burrows followed the path of Murphy’s focus, then smirked. “Leave it to Murphy to figure a way to work a woman into his plans.”
“Not just a woman. Garrett’s woman.” He chuckled softly. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
Mari’s stomach sank, and the fright that had been numbed by the rigors of their journey erupted anew, fresh and sharp and bigger than basic fear for her life. This time, for the first time in her life, Mari knew a woman’s fear as the threat of sexual violation loomed.
That fright propelled her to speak up. “I’m not his woman.”
Murphy arched a brow. Burrows snorted with disbelief.
“I’m not. I told you before he’s just as likely to leave without me as to come look for me.”
“Nice try, honey, but he had his tongue down your throat, and he took you with him when he sneaked off the train yesterday. You’re his woman, all right.”
I wish that were true, Mari thought. Better to have given her virginity to a man of her choice than to have it stolen from her by a villain.
Murphy’s smile turned predatory as he ambled toward her. Mari forced herself to ignore the instinct to back away. He reached up, trailed a finger down her cheek. “That’s why making you mine will be all the more entertaining.”
Oh, heavens. Mari straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “No matter what you do to me, sir, I will never be yours.”
He chuckled. “Spunk. I like a gal with spunk.” He put his hands at her waist, hoisted her up into the saddle and retied her wrists. “Breaking you is gonna be a pleasure.”
He mounted his horse, and they resumed their journey, Murphy leading and Burrows at her back. Mari’s thoughts whirled, a storm of anger and dread and determination. The echo of his threat boomed like thunder. Breaking you. Breaking you. Breaking you.
Mari vowed it wouldn’t happen. She’d do whatever was necessary to prevent it. For herself, for her family. I won’t break. No matter what, I won’t break I’m a McBride of Willow Hill. If he does his worst, I’ll be a willow. I’ll bend, but I won’t break.
First, though, she’d do her level best to prevent Murphy from accomplishing any more mischief than he’d already managed.
Fortified by the exercise, Mari realized she needed to make her own plan. A battle was at hand and right now, her only weapon was her wits. Not an insignificant weapon, she told herself, but at this particular moment, she’d just as soon have a gun.
All right, Mari, think. For him to accomplish his threat, she’d need to be out of the saddle. On the ground she had her feet for weapons, her knees. Papa had taught all his daughters long ago the way to use their knees to disable a man.
Good. That’s one weapon to keep at the ready. What else?
She needed her hands free. That would open up many more options. During the long ride, she’d tried repeatedly to free them, but she’d had little luck.
Mari studied the rope binding her wrists. Strong. Sturdy. A simple but effective square knot. While the knot wasn’t as tight as it had been before their rest stop, she shouldn’t expect it to come undone on its own.
Burrows interrupted her musing by calling out, “Hey, boss? You gonna let me take a turn with her?”
Murphy glanced over his shoulder. “I’m a generous man.”
Mari shuddered, and though panic hovered at the edge of her consciousness, she managed to keep her focus. Her teeth. Maybe she could use her teeth to pick the knot loose. It was worth a try. So how to go about it in such a way that they wouldn’t notice?
This would take some pretense. Some acting. What would Kat do in a situation like this?
Hunching her shoulders, hanging her head, Mari began to sob. It was an easy bit of acting.
“Now, don’t be scared, honey,” Burrows said, a grin in his voice. “It’s just a screw. We’re not gonna kill you or anything. Right, Murphy? Were you figuring on killing her?”
“Probably not. Unless she does something stupid.”
“See?” Burrows continued. “Hell, you’re liable to like it so much you’ll want to join the Brazos Valley gang. That’s happened to us before, you know. Women go for Finn Murphy.”
I’ll go for him, all right. I’ll go for his gizzard with his very own knife.
Doubled over in the saddle, Mari continued her pretense of crying and surreptitiously put her teeth to the knot. The dry hemp tasted salty with sweat, and her thirst grew even more pronounced.
Behind her, Burrows continued to talk. “Remember those gals in Tucson, Murphy? A couple of redheaded sisters. They grabbed hold of ol’Murphy and didn’t let him out of their house for damn near a week.”
The prospect of rape obviously excited the outlaw, because he continued to rattle on about the gang’s sexual conquests for a good ten minutes. As disconcerting as Mari found the topic, she was glad he had found something to keep him occupied, because it kept his attention in the past and away from her long enough for her to accomplish her goal.
With one last tug of her teeth, the knot slipped and the rope loosened enough for her to pull her hands free. She choked back an exultant cry.
Good. This was good. Now, what next? She was tempted to make a break and ride hell-bent for safety, except she recognized the foolishness of such an action. Their horses were faster, and they’d undoubtedly catch her before she traveled a hundred yards.
No. Better to wait for an opportunity to go for one of their guns. Mari knew how to shoot. She was, in fact, a better-than-decent shot.
In front of her, Murphy lifted his right hand, signaling a stop. Mari’s gaze flicked down to her wrists, checking to make sure she still appeared bound. Be ready. Think quick and be prepared to act.
Finn Murphy gestured toward a hill rising no more than a quarter mile in front of them, the highest elevation Mari had seen that day. “Clay, ride ahead and check our trail. Need to make sure Garrett isn’t following faster than I expected.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Excellent idea, Mari thought. She much preferred dealing with villains one at a time.
“You can meet us at Cedar Canyon.” Murphy glanced at Mari, then added. “Take your time.”
Burrows’s knowing leer made Mari’s skin crawl. He spurred his horse, kicking up a cloud of red dirt as he cantered toward the hill. Murphy whistled “Yellow Rose of Texas” as they continued on their way.
They rode due west into the late-afternoon sun. Thirst became a vicious companion, but Mari refrained from requesting water out of fear that he’d notice the loosened rope.
She suspected her best opportunity would come when he went to lift her down from the saddle. She’d have the advantage of height, and he wouldn’t be expecting her to launch herself at him. She could knock him down, go for his gun. Then…what? Shoot him? Could she do it? Did she have it in her to murder a man?
Except, it wouldn’t be murder. It’d be self-defense and she needed to remember that. When the time arrived, she’d only get one chance. She couldn’t afford squeamishness.
She wouldn’t allow her parents to face the loss of another daughter.
Mari realized that no matter what he said, if Finn Murphy succeeded in his quest to kill Luke Garrett, then he’d likely kill her, too. It made no sense for him to allow her to live. Not only could she testify against him, she’d have knowledge of the general direction of his Texas hideout. No, this was a fight for her life. Mari had to be ready to kill.
Damn you, Luke Garrett. This is all your fault.
TENSION COILED in Luke’s belly like a rattlesnake, coldblooded and mean. It was done. The die had been cast. Finn Murphy was a dead man.
Luke had put the task off long enough.
Eighteen years he’d known the man. Eighteen years he’d despised him. Ten years since t
he first time he’d seriously contemplated killing him but refrained, because his sister had begged him not to do it. Today she’d probably load his gun for him.
Luke rode hard, following a trail they’d made no attempt to conceal. At the beginning of the chase he’d expected an ambush, and he’d proceeded with appropriate caution. But after passing without mishap three separate areas perfect for attack, he’d concluded that Murphy was leading him somewhere specific for a particular purpose.
He didn’t like that idea one bit. He knew in his gut it meant trouble for Mari. “Damn me for letting her out of my sight for even a minute.”
Luke spied a spot where they’d stopped. He dismounted, studied the signs. Three horses. Footprints, two men and—thank God—a woman. They were still a good hour ahead of him.
He remounted and moved out, determined to make up the time. Mari McBride was in trouble, and it was all his fault.
If Murphy hurt her, Luke would never forgive himself.
MURPHY REINED his mount to a stop beneath a cotton-wood growing on the bank of a creek-fed pool. Had she not been busy plotting how to save her life, Mari might have appreciated the beauty of the spot. As it was, she quickly scanned the area, looking for loose rocks, fallen limbs, anything she might use as a weapon should her plan to knock him down and grab his gun fail.
Murphy swung his long leg over the saddle and slid to the ground. He tied his horse to the Cottonwood trunk then turned and looked at her. He folded his arms, his gray eyes smoldering. “I’ve been looking forward to this all afternoon. Get down.”
Mari went still. Down? That wasn’t the plan! “I can’t. My hands…”
“You got that rope untied an hour ago. Nice bit of acting there, though. Burrows never noticed you were free. Now get down from your horse, little lady.”
No! He was too far away. She couldn’t throw herself that far to knock him down. Besides, without the element of surprise she’d never be successful.
All right, Mari. Go to Plan B.
“I will as soon as I think of a Plan B,” she murmured beneath her breath.
“C’mon, honey,” he prodded. “Let me see a little leg while you’re at it.”
I’ll show you my leg. Right before it kicks your private parts up to your ears.
Despite her silent bravado, fear rode her blood as she slid her leg over the saddle and slipped to the ground. She did her best to ignore it. She needed to focus all her energy on defeating her enemy.
Spine straight, shoulders back, Mari faced Finn Murphy. He’d moved closer. Mari eyed the distance, noted the gun at his hip. If she moved fast, could she—
“Strip.”
“Excuse me?”
“Take your clothes off.”
She licked her lips. “You want to go swimming?”
“I want to see those nice plump tits. Now. We’ll take a dip afterward to cool off. Sex is sweaty work.”
Now, fear not only rode her blood, it gnawed at her like a hungry dog on a juicy bone. She didn’t want to be a willow that bends. She didn’t even want to be a strong oak tree. She wanted to be a bird that could take wing and escape.
Without taking his heated gaze off her, Murphy reached into his boot and drew out a stiletto. “Don’t be difficult,” he warned, his voice resonant with threat. “I’m losing my patience.”
Mari backed up a step and attempted the only Plan B that occurred to her at the moment. “My father will pay you. He’s very wealthy. You may have heard of him. He’s a famous architect, Trace McBride. If you return me unharmed, he’ll pay you a substantial reward.”
“Hmm…” Murphy scratched his jaw. “A rich daddy. That’s an interesting tidbit of information. He likes you, hmm?”
Mari nodded briskly. “He loves me very, very much.”
“Well…that’s something to think about.” He used the knife to point toward the buttons at her bodice. “Now, the clothes. If I’m forced to cut your dress off, you won’t have anything to wear afterward.”
Afterward. Mari shuddered. “But what about my father?”
“I’ll think about it. Later. If he loves you like you say, he’ll pay to have you back no matter what shape you’re in. Even dead, for that matter. It’s my experience that people like to have bodies to bury. Actually, just knowing where the bodies are already buried makes a difference.”
Bodies. Oh, my. Mari closed her eyes.
“Show me your bosom, woman.”
Mari’s trembling fingers went to the buttons on her bodice. So much for Plan B. Yes, the logic had been weak, but it had been worth a try. If Murphy were stupid, it might have worked.
If Murphy were stupid, he wouldn’t be the leader of one of the most notorious outlaw gangs in the country.
Plan C. I need a Plan C.
You better hope you come up with something better than Plan B.
The gentle breeze kissed her bare skin and she shuddered as the dress parted, revealing the thin linen chemise beneath it. Mari regretted her decision earlier at the general store to forgo a corset and travel in comfort until she caught up with her baggage and her own custom-fitted underpinnings.
Murphy’s voice held a husky note as he took another step toward her saying, “Hurry up.”
His urgency was apparent, and Mari knew she was running out of time. Plan C. Plan C. She still had the knee-to-the-groin move to employ, though she’d just as soon Plan C involve a weapon for use in quarters less close.
She looked down, ostensibly to aid in drawing her arm through her sleeve, but in reality, she searched the ground for a weapon. She saw nothing but small stones, a few sticks, a clump of flowering lantana, and a cactus shaped like a baseball bat.
An idea flickered, hovered just beyond reach. Then she heard her flamboyant, bohemian grandmother’s voice, speaking clear as springwater in her mind. A woman carries two potent weapons with her at all times; her body and her mind. Wielded together, they can make her all but invincible.
Invincible.
Plan C burst fully formed like San Jacinto Day fireworks in Mari’s brain. Without hesitation, without second thoughts, she made quick work of stripping off her dress. My body. My mind. Invincible.
She stood proudly before him dressed in only a thin chemise and drawers. His stare never lifted above her neck. His hand reached down between his legs, and he gave himself a vulgar stroke.
Mari swallowed hard, then said, “That works better with your britches off, you know.”
Now he did look up, obviously surprised. Mari summoned every lesson she’d ever learned at the feet of her grandmother, Monique Day, Texas’s most infamous flirt, and allowed her eyes to melt with sultry warmth. Then she smiled at him with wanton invitation and shrugged. “If this is inevitable, I might as well enjoy it. You are a handsome man, Finn.”
Lust flared like a wildfire in his eyes and he took a step toward her, then abruptly stopped. Suspicion hung ripe in his tone as he asked, “What trick is this?”
Be bold. Be smart. Be invincible. Mari grabbed the hem of her chemise. “No trick.” She whipped the garment over her head, baring her breasts to his hungry eyes. “Are you all talk, Finn? Or a man of action?”
He took two more steps toward her before his brain caught up. He unstrapped his gun belt, then set it on the ground and repeated the action with his knife.
Mari hated to see the weapons go—she’d have preferred using one of them. Yet, she still had options. She had a plan. She’d be invincible…or, if worse came to worst, a willow. She’d be fine. Just fine.
Murphy started toward her.
Oh, God.
“Wait!” She held up her hand, palm out, then threw him a smoldering look and repeated his earlier demand, “Strip.”
He arched a brow. Amusement joined the lust gleaming in his eyes.
Mari needed him to be excited, distracted, so she put a purr into her voice. “Take your clothes off. I want to see you, too. You’re such a…big…man, Finn. Let me see how big you really are.”
L
eering, he yanked off his shirt, then tugged off his boots. Mari’s blood pumped with nervous determination. She chanced a glance toward her weapon of choice, judged the distance, planned her timing.
Finn Murphy shucked down his britches. It took all of Mari’s acting ability not to recoil at the sight of his jutting penis.
She’d never seen one before, not an adult one, anyway. It looked a whole lot different than her brothers’ tallywhackers did when she used to change their diapers. In no way did she find it appealing.
But it was imperative she pretend to like it, to be impressed, so she widened her eyes and said, “Aren’t you a fine-looking man?”
He preened like a peacock. “Your turn. Scoot outta those bloomers, honey.”
This time, Mari couldn’t suppress her shudder. Seeing it, Murphy chuckled. “You’re a hot one, aren’t you?” He reached down again and stroked his cock. “Hell, if I’d known you wanted it this bad, I’d have stopped hours ago.”
Now, Mari. Now’s the time.
Though Finn Murphy didn’t know it, the predator had just become the prey.
She hooked her left thumb in the waist of her drawers, then, giving her hips a wide, eye-summoning swing, walked toward him. With a tug of her thumb, she exposed just a little more skin. He all but salivated. She took two more steps toward him, then stopped within reach of her goal.
Mari braced herself. She wanted his attention on her left hand, not her right, so she tugged her drawers well below her navel.
“Goddamn,” Murphy breathed.
Do it!
With a fast, smooth flurry of movement, she bent her knees and grabbed the cactus close to the ground. Needle-sharp spines gouged into her palm and fingers as she yanked the plant from the dirt and windmilled her arm. Swinging with all her might, Mari hit him with the cactus exactly where she’d aimed.
Right between the legs.
Howling, Murphy dropped to his knees, then onto his side. Shrill screams emerged from his throat.
Mari dropped the cactus and shook her hand hard. The spines burned. Her hand felt as if it was on fire. The rest of her felt like a warrior goddess. Invincible.
Her Bodyguard Page 13
