by Linda Turner
“I heard a noise in the hallway,” she said, trembling.
“What kind of noise?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t very loud. It could have been a mouse—”
“Or a rat,” he said casually, then crossed to the nightstand to grab his gun. “I’ll check it out.”
He stepped out into the hallway before she could stop him, alarming her. He didn’t even look out the peephole. What if her kidnappers were out there, waiting for him? He could be dead before he could blink.
“Wait!” she cried. “Someone could be out there—”
Scrambling after him, she only just missed plowing into him as he stepped back into their room. Grinning, he pressed a hand to his heart. “Why, Prissy, I didn’t know you cared.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she sniffed. Turning her back on him, she said, “I’m going to bed.”
“Good idea,” he said, and strode past her to the bed.
Stunned, Priscilla couldn’t believe it when he sank down onto the far side of the bed. “What are you doing? I’m sleeping there!”
“Fine,” he retorted with a grin, and scooted over. “I’ll take the other side.”
“No! Damn it, Donovan, I told you—” she began indignantly, only to forget what she was going to say next when she felt something on her bare foot. Surprised, she glanced down…and screamed at the sight of the roach crawling across her foot. “Aaagh!”
“What the hell?!” Lightning quick, Donovan jumped off the bed just as she threw herself at him. “What is it?” he demanded, snatching her close. “What’s wrong?”
“A roach!” she gasped. “There was a roach on my foot!”
If she hadn’t been so obviously upset, Donovan would have laughed. A roach? She was terrified of a roach? “It’s not going to hurt you,” he assured her. “Sit still and I’ll kill it.”
Switching on every light in the room, he saw the roach almost immediately and stepped on it as it headed for the door. Seconds later, he disposed of it in the bathroom, then returned to the bedroom to find Priscilla sitting in the middle of the bed and nervously searching the room for more roaches.
Suppressing a smile, he said, “It’s okay—you can relax. The big, bad roach is dead. Now can we go to sleep?”
She stiffened. “What do you mean…we?”
“I’m going to bed,” he said simply, and slipped into bed beside her. And before she could do anything but gasp, he stretched out on his stomach, punched the pillow under his head and sighed in contentment.
Beside him, he could almost feel Priscilla’s irritation. She didn’t, however, find somewhere else to sleep. Instead, she used the headboard as a backrest and stretched her legs out in front of her. Apparently, she intended to sit up the rest of the night rather than lie down next to him.
Her choice, he told himself. He wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it.
But sleeping while she sat next to him in bed wasn’t nearly as easy as he’d anticipated. Aware of every breath she took, every sigh, every shift of her body as she tried to get comfortable, he couldn’t seem to think of anything but her as he lay there. Seconds passed, minutes, a half hour. And somehow, even with his eyes closed and his head turned away from her, he knew the exact moment she fell asleep.
A selfish man would have left her as she was and caught some shut-eye himself. But his mother had raised him better than that, and when he turned toward her, he wasn’t surprised to find her slumped to the side, her head at an awkward angle. Telling himself she was going to owe him for this, he gently eased her down on the bed.
The second he touched her, he knew he’d made a mistake. She was too soft, too vulnerable, and when she sighed in her sleep and curled toward him, all he could think about was reaching for her, pulling her toward him, kissing her awake.
Silently swearing, he forced himself to turn away from her, but for what seemed like hours, he lay there, listening to her breathe, wanting her, imagining too damn much. Irritated, he told himself he must be getting soft. He didn’t want anything to do with a woman, and he had Jennifer to thank for that.
Images stirred, images he’d locked away a long time ago. Silently swallowing a curse, he slammed the door shut on the memories of the only woman he’d ever loved and focused instead on the lesson she’d taught him. Don’t trust a woman…ever. Because when push came to shove, she wouldn’t stand by you when you needed her the most.
Not all women are alike.
Grimacing at the too-wise voice that whispered in his head, he had to admit that might be a possibility, but that was beside the point. He knew better than to get involved with his customers, especially one like Priscilla Wyatt. She was too prissy, too snooty, too delicate…and he could still taste her on his tongue.
He never should have kissed her, he decided. It had been a dumb thing to do. He could have come up with a quick lie about them having a lovers’ spat, and the desk clerk wouldn’t have thought twice about the two of them getting separate rooms. Instead, he’d reached for her to shut her up, and now all he could think about was kissing her again.
He was losing his mind, he decided glumly. There was no other explanation. Buck had hired him to kidnap his sister and keep her safe. That was it. There’d been no mention of kissing her, seducing her, sleeping with her. If he had a brain in his head, he’d give her the bed and sleep on the floor.
He considered the idea for all of five seconds, but the carpet was filthier than the bed. He was being ridiculous, he decided. He was so tired, Priscilla could have been snuggled flush against his back and it wouldn’t have mattered. He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He settled into a more comfortable position, and seconds later, he was asleep.
Priscilla slipped into his dreams uninvited, and not surprisingly, the stubborn woman refused to leave him alone. She teased him with her smile, with a touch that no man with any blood in his veins could possibly resist, then danced away with a laugh when he reached for her. Hot, aching for her, he promised himself when he got his hands on her that he wouldn’t let her go until she begged him for release.
Caught deep in the depths of his tantalizing dream, Donovan couldn’t have said what planet he was on, let alone what city he slept in. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the woman in his dreams who was doing her best to drive him out of his mind.
Then a gun exploded right outside their room.
Instantly awake, Donovan never remembered moving. One second, he was sound asleep, the next, his pistol was in his hand and he was on his feet, braced for whatever was outside the door to their room.
“Priscilla? Get up!”
Buried under the bedspread, she didn’t move. “Hmm?”
“Get up,” he commanded again. “I just heard a gunshot outside.”
That got her attention. “What?!” Struggling out from under the covers, her hair a mass of short wild curls and her eyes dark with confusion, she pushed herself into a sitting position and frowned up at him. “Are you serious?”
He nodded urgently. “C’mon—move. I want you to go into the bathroom and lock the door. Regardless of what you hear, don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe. Understood?”
“Of course.” Pale and shaken, she scrambled off the bed and hurried into the bathroom.
In the tense silence, the click of the door being locked was as loud as a scream. His lean, rugged face set in grim lines, Donovan hurriedly slipped on his boots and, as silently as possible, unlocked the dead bolt on the door to their room. Seconds later, with his gun drawn and his senses on high alert, he stepped soundlessly into the hallway.
Fear gripping her by the throat, Priscilla pressed an ear to the bathroom door, but she couldn’t hear anything but the furious pounding of her heart. Was Donovan still in their room or had he already left? Maybe he should have called the police, she thought. At least then he’d have some kind of backup. As it was, he was fighting the bad guys all by himself.
She tried to tell herself that he
was clever. This wasn’t his first rodeo, as he’d reminded her, and he had plenty of experience. Chasing the scum of the earth was what he did for a living. She couldn’t imagine anyone catching him off guard.
So why was she worried about a man who could obviously take care of himself?
Because anyone could make a mistake, she thought, fear twisting in her gut. And while he was out there in the hall, putting his life on the line for her, she was cowering in the bathroom.
Cringing at the thought, she knew she had to do something, but she didn’t have a clue what when she unlocked the bathroom door. She just knew she couldn’t let Donovan face her demons alone.
She hurried to the door, but before she could even reach for it, it swung open sharply. Startled, she gasped, a scream already building inside her, only to find herself face-to-face with Donovan.
“Thank God!” she said. “I’ve been so worried!”
“You’re supposed to be locked in the bathroom,” he growled, scowling as he shot the dead bolt home.
“I was, but—”
“But what? Dammit, Prissy, are you trying to get yourself killed? I specifically told you to stay in the bathroom!”
“I was worried about you,” she exclaimed, heat climbing in her cheeks. “I was afraid you were hurt.”
“So you’re going to ignore orders and put yourself in danger, too?” he demanded. “Is that what you’re saying?”
Her green eyes snapped fire at his assumption that she was supposed to follow orders. “No, of course not,” she said stiffly. “But what was I supposed to do? Stay in the bathroom, where I was nice and safe, while you were possibly being attacked? Do you really think I’m the kind of person who would do that?
“Don’t answer that,” she said quickly before he could say a word. “It doesn’t matter what you think. I did what I had to do. If my actions don’t meet with your approval, then I guess that’s too damn bad.”
“Now don’t get all huffy on me—”
“Huffy?” She sniffed. “Of course I’m huffy! Excuse me for breathing…or thinking of someone besides myself while you stick your neck out for me. Maybe you should have kidnapped someone else, some self-centered princess who wouldn’t have cared less what happened to you as long as she was safe.”
For a moment, she thought she saw his lips twitch, but one glare from her and he immediately sobered. “Look,” he said, sighing, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—”
“Well, you did!”
“I know you were only trying to help me, and I appreciate that. But you’re the one the bad guys are after, sweetheart, not me. I can’t keep either one of us safe if you’re not where you’re supposed to be.”
“I was trying to help.”
“Next time, do as you’re told, and we’ll get along fine.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Excuse me? Did you say do as I’m told?”
“You’re damn straight I did,” he said flatly. “If that’s a problem, then tell me now. I’ll call Buck and tell him this isn’t going to work and he might as well turn the family ranch over to whoever’s orchestrating all this, because you’re going to lose it anyway.”
Shocked, she gasped. “What? You can’t be serious!”
“Every time you work against me instead of with me, you’re putting yourself and the ranch in jeopardy. And one of these times, someone is going to grab you. I’ll find you,” he promised grimly, “but I don’t know that I’ll find you in time.”
He didn’t have to explain what he meant by that—she understood him perfectly. Next time she might be dead. Guilt tugging at her for causing him so much trouble, she said, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It won’t happen again. From now on, I’ll do what you say.”
He lifted a brow at her. “Even when you want to kill me?”
“I never—” she began, only to see the twinkle in his eyes. “That could change,” she warned, trying and failing to bite back a smile. “If you keep pushing me…”
“Oh, c’mon,” he teased. “You love it and you know it. It keeps your mind off what’s going on at the ranch.”
Sobering, she couldn’t deny it. “These last few months have been horrible,” she said quietly. “The family’s kept me posted on what’s been going on in Colorado, but that’s not the same thing as being there. Up until now, I’ve only been able to imagine how frightening it’s been for them, being under constant attack. Now that I know what it’s like, I understand why they’re so worried about me. And there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t even manage to get to the States.”
“Don’t give up yet,” he told her. “I’ve got a plan.”
She’d heard that before. Eyeing him warily, she said, “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”
“You’ll love it,” he said, chuckling. “I promise.”
Six hours later, when Priscilla walked into the Edinburgh airport, her legs were anything but steady and her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest. Donovan had assured her that he would be within sight at all times, but she didn’t see him anywhere, and she’d never been more scared in her life. Were her kidnappers there somewhere, waiting for her? Would they recognize her?
Sick to her stomach, she almost lifted a hand to her short curly hair. She’d been afraid that the new haircut and dye job wouldn’t be enough to disguise her looks, so Donovan had bought her a striped hoodie and pencil thin black pants and ballerina slippers. With oversized sunglasses, she looked like a young Audrey Hepburn. Her stride graceful and easy, she reminded herself that she was supposed to be acting like a jet-setter who knew exactly where she was going. She couldn’t let anyone who was watching suspect that she was scared out of her mind and wanted to run to the nearest policeman.
Donovan wouldn’t let anything happen to her, she assured herself as she headed for the ticket counter. The plan he’d concocted was for each of them to buy their ticket separately, then end up at the same gate like they were perfect strangers. And since they were both using aliases and passports that he had doctored, no one would, hopefully, realize they were traveling together.
In theory, it sounded good. But her knees knocked at the idea of using her doctored passport. And before she could join the line at the ticket counter, someone suddenly bumped into her from the right. Her passport went flying, as did his. “Oh! I’m sorry—”
Instinctively, she kneeled down to pick up her passport and just that quickly, found herself down on her knees with the man who had bumped into her. “Are you all right?” he asked and it was only then that she realized that man was Donovan.
Startled, she glanced up. They weren’t supposed to have any contact until they landed in Monaco, which was the first flight out that morning. “What—”
“Keep picking up your things,” he said quietly, not looking at her. “There’s been a change of plans. Monaco’s out.”
With trembling fingers, she reached for her passport. “Why?”
“There are two thugs watching everyone who goes through security,” he said in a whisper that didn’t carry beyond her ears. “One’s by the big plant at eleven o’clock, and the other one is pretending to read a newspaper near the newsstand, which is across the concourse over my right shoulder. Easy!” he said quickly when she started to check out the two men. “Look at me. Then check them out without moving your head. They won’t be able to tell you’re looking at them because of your sunglasses.”
Her heart threatening to beat out of her chest, she did as he said and spotted the two men almost immediately. Surprised, she almost dropped her things again. “They’re not my kidnappers.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I’ve never seen either one of them before.”
Donovan swore softly as he rose to his feet and helped her up. “We still can’t chance that they’re not looking for you. Go to the restroom, wait a few minutes, then go back to the front entrance and wait for me at the curb. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
He did
n’t give her a chance to say anything else and simply walked away. Their chance encounter over, she headed for the restroom without sparing a glance for the two men who were obviously watching for someone. Had they been sent by her kidnappers to watch for her? she wondered, shaken. How many others were out there, watching? Waiting for a chance to grab her when she least expected it? How could she protect herself when she didn’t even know who to protect herself from?
She finally reached the restroom, but she found little comfort there. There was no guarantee that her kidnappers had just sent men after her. What if one of the women who strolled in after her had been sent to kill her? Was the blonde looking at her as she washed her hands capable of murder? What about the tall brunette? Could she be a man in drag?
Paranoid from the suspicious thoughts racing through her mind, she didn’t glance at her watch to see if five minutes had passed. She didn’t care—she had to get out of there. Struggling not to hurry, she headed for the front entrance, half expecting someone to stop her any second, but no one did. And just as she reached the curb, Donovan pulled up in the rental car. Relieved, she reached for the door handle before he’d even braked to a complete stop.
“Thank God!” Slipping into the car beside him, she slammed her door and locked it as he pulled away from the curb. “Now what do we do?”
His eyes trained on the rearview mirror, he said, “Try another airport.”
“Where?”
“Manchester.”
Chapter 6
By the time they turned south and reached Manchester, England, Priscilla was so exhausted that she couldn’t see straight. All she wanted to do was get a room and go to bed. Donovan, however, wouldn’t even consider it.
“We’re taking the first flight out,” he told her, pulling into the long-term parking lot. “I’ll go in first. Then you follow five minutes later. Go to the restroom while I check outgoing flights and find out what the next flight out is. Watch for me when you come out of the restroom, and try to make sure you’re not right behind me at the ticket counter. Then we’re on our way.”
