Lone Rider

by Lauren Bach

  “Planning to intern with one of them?”

  “No. Actually, I’m hoping to buy inventory for my store in Boston. I’ll be following the summer craft show circuit for a few weeks, looking for new talent.” A note of pride crept into her voice. “I can’t keep up with demand by myself anymore. And my clients want variety.”

  Dallas frowned, thoughtful. “You must have trustworthy help to be able to leave for weeks at a time.”

  She shrugged. “The shop is closed from Memorial Day to Labor Day, which gives me time to build up stock for Christmas.”

  “And probably heightens demand.” He studied the two necklaces she wore. One was an antique silver choker. Old and valuable. A family heirloom, he’d bet. The other piece looked newer and vaguely familiar.

  Giving in to the temptation to touch, Dallas reached forward, picking up the small medallion nestled below the hollow of her throat. The delicate silver crescent was heavier then it looked.

  “Did you design this?” he asked. “It reminds me of one of the symbols favored by the Cuna Indians.”

  Tess smiled, her skin tingling where the pads of his fingers had brushed. The Cuna Indians lived on islands in the San Blas archipelago off the Caribbean coast of Panama. They were a matriarchal society, rare in today’s male-dominated world. Few people had ever heard of them and even fewer were familiar with their art. Dallas was either well traveled or well educated. Perhaps both. Which hopefully explained the growing attraction she felt toward this man.

  She relaxed, warmed by his genuine interest. “Yes, I designed it. In fact I have a whole line of jewelry inspired by the art of the Cuna tribe.”

  “You exploit indigenous people?”

  Warmth flared. To fire. She tugged the medallion from his grasp. “Yes. And small children.”

  “I didn’t mean--”

  She cut him off. “You insulted them, not me. The tribal elders negotiated the deal. One of them has a law degree from Harvard. They’re pretty savvy. A healthy portion of the sales goes back to the tribe in the form of royalties to help preserve their heritage.”

  Dallas laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. The rose had thorns. Sharp ones. “Easy! I take it back. You obviously have talent and a sense of fair play. Plus your work is beautiful.”

  Tess glanced at him, embarrassed that she nearly lost her temper. She usually wasn’t so easily riled. “Uh-huh. Trying to flatter me now?”

  “Yeah. Is it working?”

  Too well, she thought. Ignoring his question, she grabbed a compact nylon duffel bag and closed the trunk.

  Dallas reached out, his fingers purposely skimming hers. One touch hadn’t been enough after all. “This is it? You travel light.”

  “For a woman?”

  “Touché.” He could enjoy spending time with this lively lady. It had been too damn long since he’d been around someone like her.

  Taking the bag, he quickly strapped it on the back of his bike, beside his own, then turned to ask if she was ready. A distant sound caught his ear. Low, rumbling; barely there.

  Motorcycle engines. Heading this way. He knew instantly who the riders were. Shit! How much time had he wasted making small talk? Five minutes? A mistake he wouldn’t make again.

  Moving quickly, he started to rush her. “Lock ‘er up and let’s go.”

  Tess had climbed back in her car. “Just a minute,” she called over her shoulder. “There’s some stuff I’ve got to get out of the backseat. It’ll only take a sec.”

  The engines grew louder. They’d clear the hill any moment. Grabbing the waistband of her jeans, Dallas tugged her out of the car. “Now!”

  Tess whirled about, dropping her backpack at his feet, shocked that he had pulled her out of the car. Knocking his hands free she tried to step away but found the way blocked. “What do you think you’re doing?” she lashed out.

  The roar of motorcycle engines caught her attention just then. She looked up as headlights began spilling over the hill. There must have been at least a dozen bikes. And they were all slowing down.

  Her mouth went dry. She stared at Dallas as if seeing him for the first time. Gone was the easy smile that hinted at an educated humor. In its place was the steely-eyed look of a seasoned hoodlum. “What’s happening?” she whispered hoarsely.

  Dallas moved close, backing her up against the car, forcing her into his arms and against his chest. “Stay by me and you won’t get hurt,” he ordered. “I’m going to kiss you, Tess, and to make this look good, you need to kiss me back.”

  Then his mouth swooped down on hers, capturing her lips in a rough, forceful kiss. She felt his fingers slide through her hair, loosening it, drawing her closer as his tongue swept unexpectedly into her mouth.

  It was like kissing fire.

  His actions stunned her even as he branded her with his possession, robbing her senses, making her his. She melted against him, defenseless against such a fierce assault. His mustache felt silky smooth against her lip while in contrast his unshaved cheek chafed hers, sensitizing the tender skin. Her pulse leapt beneath the blunt tips of his fingers as they skimmed down her neck.

  He smelled of the night, a powerful male scent. A small moan started low in her throat as desire mingled with arousal. Dear God, she had never been kissed like this. With heat, with passion. With promise. And she had never imagined anything this pleasurable.

  Or this forbidden.

  What was she doing letting this man kiss her? All at once desperate to end the kiss, she shoved her hands against his chest. It was like pushing granite.

  When he didn’t budge she tried to kick his shin. He moved closer still, forcing his legs way too intimately between hers before catching her hands and lacing her fingers between his. Lifting her arms he pulled her hands around his neck and held them tight. Then he slanted his mouth and deepened the kiss, using the full length of his body to pin her in place.

  To anyone observing them it probably looked like she was an active participant in a crude act. Too late she realized he had her neatly immobilized. She couldn’t even knee him in the groin. She tried to shout, but his mouth effectively cut off all sound.

  The motorcycles came to a stop, encircling them in a dusty halo of blinding headlights and reverberating engines.

  Dallas drew back only slightly, breaking the kiss. The move brought his lower body into even closer contact with hers, emphasizing her vulnerability. He made a low, “ssshhh” noise in her ear, as if warning her to remain quiet, then pressed his lips to her temple, forcing her attention back to him. “Trust me.”

  The words were whispered so low Tess thought she had imagined them. Trust him? Why? She sensed danger. It hung thick in the air, noxious, choking her. Her fingers tightened over his knuckles.

  She trembled, shifting indiscernibly closer, not knowing which was worse: the feeling that Dallas would protect her or the perception that she needed protection. The temptation to hide her face on his shoulder was strong. Except she knew that burying her head in the sand wouldn’t get her out of the situation. She needed to stay alert.

  Several of the men dismounted and walked up behind Dallas. Never taking his eyes from her, Dallas addressed one of them. “Get lost, Snake. I’m busy.”

  “Just waiting my turn, amigo.” The man named Snake moved beside Dallas. Wearing an eye patch and sporting a mouthful of rotten teeth, Snake looked like he had stepped out of a B movie. As tall as Dallas, Snake had a soft, paunchy gut hanging over his jeans. Tess involuntarily leaned away. Though she’d never admit it aloud, she did feel safer with Dallas.

  When Snake bent closer, inspecting her, Tess got a whiff of cheap bourbon. She tried once more to free her arms, but Dallas only tightened his grip, pulling her closer. Terrified, she ceased struggling and arched into Dallas, seeking to get as far from Snake as possible. Hadn’t Dallas said she wouldn’t be hurt if she stayed by him? Right now she desperately needed to believe that.

  Snake reached out a finger, angling to catch her chin. �
��Here, kitty, kitty. Nice kitty.” Raucous laughter echoed from the men with him.

  Dallas’ hand shot out, grasping Snake’s wrist before he touched her. “I said, get lost.” He nuzzled his chin against Tess’ hair, gentling her. “You know I don’t share.”

  Snake snatched his hand back and began laughing. “Fine. I’ll wait and get her when we’re back at camp.” He leered at Tess. “I think she’ll be worth waiting for.”

  Dallas bared his teeth, his voice a dangerous growl. “Who says I’m taking her back? You know the rules.”

  “No locals,” Snake said, still grinning. “And she ain’t local. The car tag says Massachusetts. Hell, she’s got outsider written all over her. If you don’t take her, I will.”

  Tess’ mind reeled, her knees weakening. Take her? What did he mean? Kidnap? Or rape? She couldn’t handle either. Bile rose in her throat. While the thought of being “taken” by anyone repulsed Tess, she’d rather die than have Snake touch her. She looked away, her mind refusing to contemplate the horrors Snake had in mind.

  She stared up at Dallas, silently imploring his help. He obviously knew these men. He also had to know he was her only hope against them. She searched his face for a veiled reassurance, but his silver eyes revealed none of his thoughts. Or intentions. Could she really trust him?

  “She’s mine.” Dallas addressed the crowd at large.

  Tess opened her mouth to protest. Dallas’ grip tightened painfully, drawing her eyes back to his. Don’t say a word, his look commanded. He waited until the grumbling quieted before continuing. “Nobody touches her.”

  Snake spat on the ground before backing away. “Oh yeah?” he challenged. “We’ll see what Bogen has to say about that.”

  Grabbing a beer from the closest rider, Snake drained the can and tossed it over his shoulder, sending the can ricocheting noisily into the brush. Stepping around Dallas, Snake ran his hand over the hood of her car, whistling. “A beemer. This’ll bring in a nice piece of change, too.”

  “Only if you’re a fish. The car’s going for a swim,” Dallas said.

  Tess listened in cold trepidation as the conversation made grim sense. These men were going to sink her car -- probably in a lake -- after abducting her and doing God knew what. She felt her stomach lurch.

  “No,” she began softly, addressing Dallas. Her voice cracked as she fought not to cry, her throat wanting to close. “I’ve got money, jewelry. I can get more. Please don’t do this.”

  “Please don’t do this,” Snake mimicked in a high-pitched voice. Several of the others laughed and hooted. Encouraged, Snake moved closer. “Let’s see you beg, darlin’. Exactly what are you willing to do to earn your freedom?”

  Ignoring Snake, Dallas reached down and snatched her backpack from where she’d dropped it at their feet. “Frankie, get some gas in this tank and take it up to Lake Summer. Then let’s get out of here before someone comes along.”

  The laughter ceased immediately as two men dismounted and headed toward her car. Tess noticed no one questioned Dallas’ authority, which increased her unease. They’d do anything he said.

  Well, these men might be accustomed to taking orders from him, but damn it, she wasn’t.

  Burying her heels in the ground, she resisted when he pulled her toward his motorcycle. The thought of what these men had in mind for her was numbing. She would not go willingly, she would not make it easy for them. She’d fight to her last breath.

  When Dallas yanked her arm, she held back, then lost her footing and stumbled forward. He caught her, hauling her up against his chest once more to steady her.

  She tried to move away and was reminded immediately who had the superior physical strength. As if there’d been any doubt.

  He pulled her the last few steps to his motorcycle, then abruptly released her. “Climb on,” he ordered as he fastened her backpack alongside her duffel bag.

  Behind them two men used a small section of rubber hose to siphon gas into her car. There were several thousand dollars’ worth of tools and jewels in the car, besides the value of the car itself. And these men were going to sink it. Obviously they cared little for money.

  Which meant they’d probably care even less about her life. She thought of her family and friends, a sharp pain erupting in her chest at the thought of never seeing them again. She couldn’t -- wouldn’t -- let that happen.

  She bolted toward the road, frantic, twisting to dodge past Dallas. Her escape was short-lived. He came up behind her quickly and easily, locking his arms over her chest and swinging her back to stand beside his motorcycle. She screamed. Catcalls arose from Snake and the others.

  “Get on.” Dallas’ voice was clipped, low. Deadly.

  “No.” Tess stepped back, ignoring the feral gleam in his eyes. “I am not going anywhere with you. You can’t do this! It’s illegal. It’s kidnapping.”

  Dallas knew Snake was watching, waiting, wanting. And listening. He grasped her shoulders, overpowering her, his fingers biting into soft flesh as he shook her harshly, getting her full attention.

  “It’s over, Tess, and you’re making this harder then it has to be. You can climb on yourself, or I’ll get Snake to help. Your choice.” Dallas disliked using her fears to force compliance, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue.

  His threat and rough handling deflated her ire. In spite of what he’d just said, there was no choice. She was ridiculously outnumbered. Once again fear swamped her, leaving her cowering pathetically in his arms as silent tears tracked down her cheeks.

  At her nod, Dallas relaxed his punishing grip, releasing her. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she started to turn toward his motorcycle only to stop when Dallas laid a hand on her shoulder.

  He leaned close, whispering quickly in her ear. “I won’t hurt you, Tess. Just climb on.”

  His words gave her a small amount of hope. Perhaps he did intend to help her.

  Still, when she swung one leg over the leather seat and mounted the bike, she was careful to lean as far back as possible, away from him when he swung on in front of her. If she kept a wide enough space between them, she’d have a better opportunity to leap from the bike once they were under way.

  Whether she believed Dallas would protect her or not was a moot point with this crowd. There was only one of him and how many of them?

  Dallas started the engine, gunned it to life. “Wrap your arms around me,” he yelled over his shoulder.

  “I’m fine like I am,” she shouted in his ear.

  “You don’t listen, do you?”

  To her consternation, Dallas leaned back and grabbed her wrists, pulling her forward. The move forced her closer, pressing her fully and intimately against his back, her thighs spread almost painfully to encompass his hips.

  Tess began struggling, but he didn’t release her. Damn him, he had no right--

  Then she heard a ratcheting sound and felt cold metal snap around her wrists. Too late she realized he’d handcuffed her!

  “No,” she screamed. “Don’t do this!” She tried to pull back but found her arms locked snugly around Dallas’ waist.

  Fresh tears crept into her eyes as a crippling paralysis settled into her limbs. He hadn’t meant a word he’d said. In fact he’d taken advantage of her trust and used it against her. She was a fool.

  As the sordid reality of her situation hit her, every imaginable depravity came to her mind. They’d kill her. Of that she had no doubt. But equally frightening was the thought of what came before that. Rape? Torture?

  Snake pulled up beside them, revving his engine. “Boomer’s gonna help Frankie ditch the car,” Snake shouted. “Duke and Eddie are gonna follow you back to camp to make sure Bogen knows I consider this matter still open.”

  “Where are you going?” Dallas demanded.

  “I’ve got some business in town.” Snake winked at Tess and grinned. “Don’t worry, darlin’. It ain’t over between us. Bogen will see to that.”

  “Back off, Snake,” Dallas war
ned. “Or we’ll settle this here and now.”

  Snake stared at Dallas, coldly, like a rattlesnake, before wheeling his bike in a big circle and riding off into the night.

  Their posturing left Tess feeling like she was no more than a bone for a couple of dogs to fight over. And the biggest, baddest dog won. How perfectly horrid.

  Her throat burned, and she buried her face against the back of Dallas’ jacket, unable to stop sobbing. She felt one of his hands close over hers, squeezing lightly.

  “I meant what I said earlier,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me.”

  But his words gave her no comfort as they sped off into the night.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tucked in behind Dallas on the motorcycle, Tess yearned for warmth yet sorely resented the fact she needed his body to shelter her from the whipping winds. The bastard. If he hadn’t kidnapped her in the first place...

  Kidnapped. It seemed incomprehensible; a nightmare. Except it was real. Too real, she amended.

  The metal handcuffs cut into her exposed wrists, the pain warring with that of her frozen skin. Once again she felt Dallas’ hand cover hers, offering limited warmth. Too miserable at the moment to sustain her contempt, she accepted his touch, even let herself imagine that he offered a bit of silent reassurance. Then just as quickly he withdrew his hand, abandoning her once more to the elements.

  By the time they stopped again, Tess felt numb. She shook with cold -- and dread -- as Dallas released the handcuffs and climbed free of the motorcycle. Wrapping her arms around herself, she huddled alone on the seat.

  She watched the other men disappear along a wooded path. She already concluded Bogen was the leader of this motley crew, and if this was where he lived, they were probably in a hurry to get to him first and present Snake’s side of the story. Her stomach flip-flopped, dreading what would happen next.

  She felt Dallas’ fingers brush her cheek as he smoothed the wind-tangled hair away from her face. She pulled back as if stung. His actions confused her. When no one could see, he treated her gently. Yet look what he’d done.