Had Katherine survived the first test? How badly he’d wanted to stay and find out. Inwardly, Mac pictured her tall, proud body and the way her full breasts filled out that blazer she wore. The curviness of her hips were just right for a man to grip, bring her under him and—He had to stop thinking like this! Was he going loco? Too long without a woman, and now he was paying the price for it? Mac wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t stop feeling edgy.
Where was Therese? He craned his neck and looked around, finding the answer almost immediately when the door to the dispensary at the left of the main villa opened. Out trooped all three soldiers, swathed in various bandages. Curbing a grin, Mac watched them limp toward the barracks, which was at the rear, well hidden by the tall green stucco wall. Then Therese emerged, looking like a runway model strutting her stuff in the middle of this godforsaken, humid jungle.
Walking over to her, Mac said, “Well, how’s your nanny doing?” Inwardly, he held his breath and tried to steel himself for bad news.
Therese laughed. “Just fine, Mac.” She gestured to the three soldiers who had just left. “I think the patrón is going to be very pleased with her.”
“She’s finished both tests?” Relief flooded through Mac. Katherine Lincoln was alive! A soaring sense of elation swept through him and he wrestled to keep that emotion hidden from Therese, who never missed a thing.
“Yes.” She frowned. “Though in the knife fight, unfortunately, Señorita Lincoln got cut.”
His heart dropped. “Oh? How bad?” His throat tightened with worry.
“Minor, really. What she did to Renaldo—well, let’s just say he’s going to be on crutches for a while! She takes no prisoners, this one, but I think that is good! The patrón has been looking for a woman who can truly handle any situation thrown at her. If Señorita Lincoln passes the last test, then she will have her interview with the boss.”
Therese gave Mac a flirtatious look, but he was completely immune to her. The woman was a tease and had gotten more than one soldier here in trouble with Garcia. She was having a flagrant, ongoing affair with the patrón, right under the nose of his wife.
“With your permission, Therese, I’d like to drop Ms. Lincoln off at the starting point for the last test. Any problem with that? I’m feeling rusty on my flying skills since I’ve been grounded the last two weeks, taking care of Tiki. I’d like any airtime I can get.”
Giving him a long, appreciative look, Therese said, “But of course. Jules should be bringing her back here any moment now.”
Hearing the chug of the jeep coming up the hill, Mac stepped away from Therese. The woman had moved closer, like a sinuous cat, her hand now resting on his upper arm. There was no way Mac wanted the patrón to see her hanging all over him with her vapid, come-hither looks. Garcia was a jealous bastard, and any man who valued his family jewels knew to stay away from Therese.
“Here they come,” he muttered.
“Sí. Do me a favor, Mac?” Therese glanced at the elegant watch she wore on her thin, golden wrist. “Take Señorita Lincoln to the dispensary. Then get her over to the guest quarters, have the kitchen prepare whatever she wants to eat and then let her rest, okay? Tell her that tomorrow at 0500 you will fly her out to the jungle for her final test.”
Thrilled with the opportunity, Mac kept his face carefully neutral. “Sure, Therese, not a problem.”
“Bueno. I’m off! The office begs for my presence. So many calls to return! Adios!” She turned and walked quickly up the brick walk toward the main villa.
Drawing in a deep breath, Mac felt relieved that he had permission to fly Katherine out for her last test. He waited impatiently for Jules to drive into the compound. The moment the jeep entered the gateway, Mac’s eyes found Katherine Lincoln. She wore a body-hugging gray, thin-strapped camisole top and gray sweatpants, both damp with her perspiration. At the sight of blood on her upper arm, of her other hand clamped over the injured area, Mac scowled. Jules didn’t look very happy, either, as he braked the jeep in front of him.
“I’ll take her to the dispensary,” Mac told him. “Therese asked me to do it.”
“Sí,” Jules said, nodding curtly.
As Mac offered his hand to Katherine, he saw the dark look in her blue eyes, her lips pursed. She ignored his hand and climbed out of the jeep herself. After giving Jules a glare, she turned to Mac.
Kathy meant to keep the strain out of her voice, but Mac Coulter’s unexpected presence tore at the wall she’d erected to keep her rollicking emotions in check. Without his aviator glasses as cover, she felt the full impact of his large gray eyes upon her. Damned if she didn’t see genuine concern for her burning in them. And something else. Unsure, Kathy licked her lower lip. She’d swear she spotted tenderness lurking in their depths. “I need a doctor,” she stated.
“Come with me,” Mac said. He kept the rage out of his tone. He wanted to kill Renaldo himself for even touching Katherine, not to mention making her bleed. Automatically, Mac placed his hand beneath her elbow. “Therese asked me to take you to our dispensary. Just relax. The worst is over, okay?” He said it quietly as Jules backed the jeep up and took off for his mountain barracks.
Legs wobbly, Kathy forced herself to walk in a straight line, albeit stiffly. She didn’t want to trust Coulter, but just his nearness steadied the churning, adrenaline-driven sensations that raced through her. “I’ve never had to really hurt someone with a knife,” she whispered unsteadily. Grateful he’d shown up, she cast a glance at him. His profile was grim, his mouth pursed. And then she felt trembling deep in the pit of her stomach. She’d come so close to death…so close….
“They play for keeps here,” Mac said apologetically. “You passed the tests. I just saw what you did to those three soldiers.” He smiled at her. “Nice work. They weren’t prepared for your karate skills.”
“Thank God,” Kathy whispered. She felt as if she was going to faint. “I—I need to sit down—soon. Something’s wrong….” She touched her brow. Sounds began to fade away, and she felt nearly disembodied. Kathy continued to focus on Coulter’s strong body next to hers, his hand around her elbow.
Seeing her go pale, Mac panicked. Her eyes seemed confused, helpless looking. He quickly opened the dispensary door. “A few more steps and you can rest. Come into this examination room.” He led her through the first door to the right. After helping her sit on the gurney, he made sure she was all right, then went to find Dr. Macedo.
Sitting in the cool room, Kathy dragged in several deep, ragged breaths. The faintness began to lift, and she felt as if she was coming back into her body once more. Pain drifted up her left arm where that son of a bitch Renaldo had sliced into her. Soon, Kathy heard voices drifting down the hall and the sound of approaching footsteps. Mac was coming back. That stabilized her as nothing else could. He represented a quiet, deep, healing harbor in this unbelievable storm. Straightening up, Kathy tightened her hand over her wound, trying to stanch the continuing bleeding.
In the half hour that followed, Kathy was glad Mac remained in the room. He stood beside her, neither too close nor too far away. When she managed to steal a look in his direction, his smoky-gray eyes met hers with an intensity that sent her soul skittering. That raw look of undeniable interest made Kathy’s breath hitch. An ache began, sharp and deep in her heart and lower body. It was completely unexpected and disconcerting.
Dr. Macedo cleaned her wound, closed the cut with ten stitches and finished with a hefty shot of antibiotics. Her wound wasn’t deep, thank God, just long, a fact Kathy could live with.
“You’ll be fine, señorita. Señor Coulter will take you to your quarters now, and I suggest you eat and rest. I’ve placed a special protective dressing over your wound so you can take a shower. It will remain dry. Tomorrow morning before you leave for your final test, I will change the dressing.”
The third test. Kathy was almost too tired to respond. “Don’t worry, I will do as you say, Doctor. Thank you.” She slid off the gurney. Her l
egs were stronger now, the adrenaline no longer racing through her bloodstream. But she was groggy, utterly fatigued and wanting desperately to sleep. This whole experience was a nightmare. One she wasn’t at all prepared for.
Mac nodded his thanks to the kindly doctor and led Katherine Lincoln out of the examination room. “Come on, we’ve got nice digs waiting for you, Ms. Lincoln.”
On the way down the brick walk lined with colorful orchids, Kathy saw a small, two-story caseta directly ahead of them. It stood to the right of the main villa.
“How are you feeling?” Mac asked as he opened the door.
Kathy stepped into the teakwood foyer. It was an incredibly beautiful villa, plushly decorated beyond her wildest expectations. Looking around in awe, she murmured, “Tired.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving to death.”
“What do you like to eat?”
“Right now, I could eat a three pound T-bone steak.”
Chuckling, Mac said, “A meat-and-potatoes kind of woman?”
Turning around on the highly polished wooden floor, Kathy looked at him as he stood in the doorway. Mac Coulter was too easy to like. She didn’t know whether his generosity toward her was genuine or a decoy to catch her off guard. He could well be a spy for Garcia. And if he wasn’t, why was he helping her? It just didn’t add up, but Kathy was far too tired to go anywhere with her suspicions. “Yes, meat and potatoes. And a lot of bread and butter with it? Sour cream on the side?” She might as well ask for everything she was fantasizing about.
“You got it. I’ll notify the kitchen staff and they’ll whip you up something in a jiffy.”
“Wait!”
Mac halted, his hand on the door. “Yes?”
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes. Is there something else you need?”
Looking toward the airy interior, Kathy said, “I guess not.” She didn’t want to admit she needed his quiet and stabilizing presence. Unused to looking to a man for anything, Kathy felt a yearning deep within. “What’s up for tomorrow?” she asked.
Mac gave her a slight smile. “How about I drop by later this evening and we can talk? I’ve got some maintenance to handle with my ground crew at the hangar right now.”
Disappointed, but trying to not show it, Kathy nodded. “Yes, that would be fine, Mr. Coulter.”
“Call me Mac.”
“Okay, Mac. Thanks for everything.” And she meant it. Their gazes met and locked. Again, her heart was suffused with an incredible warmth that made her feel safe and cared for. What was with this guy? With her? Stymied, Kathy gave a slight shake of her head.
“See you around 2100.” Mac reluctantly closed the door. More than anything, he wanted to stay with her. Katherine Lincoln looked frail and needy right now, and he was a sucker for a woman in trouble. Always had been and always would be.
As he headed for the kitchen at the rear of the main villa, Mac looked up at the light blue sky flecked with wisps of white clouds. It was early afternoon and he had a lot to do between now and then. Still, unaccountably, his heart lifted when he thought of going back to see Katherine this evening. The woman was a magnet tugging at his heart and body. No one had ever affected him so profoundly before. No one.
KATHY RUBBED THE SLEEP from her puffy eyes as the knocking continued on the heavy wooden door of the villa. Shuffling to the foyer, wiping her eyes one more time, she opened it. Mac Coulter stood there, dressed in clean clothes. Despite her sleepiness and being awakened by the knocking, she thought he looked strikingly handsome in his white cotton short-sleeved shirt, dark blue chinos and polished brown leather boots. He had shaved and his hair looked damp, as if he’d just come from a shower. Her heart twinged when his mouth curved in a confident, all-male smile.
“Come in. I was asleep on the couch,” she said, stepping aside. Tugging self-consciously at the yellow beach towel that she’d wrapped around her body after her shower, Kathy shuffled back into the oval living room. She remembered how, after eating the delicious dinner, she’d taken a shower, come out to the living room and fallen on the brightly upholstered sofa. How long had she slept? She looked at her watch. A good four hours. Maybe she was going to live, after all.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to awaken you,” Mac said. Never had he expected Katherine to answer the door dressed only in a towel. The yellow color emphasized her blond hair, which lay across her shoulders in mild disarray. She had obviously not bothered to comb out the strands before falling asleep, such was the state of her exhaustion. Mac didn’t blame her.
Nervous because she was barely clothed, Kathy saw the glimmer in his narrowed gaze as it slowly moved up her body, scalding her. First, heat swept across her hips and abdomen, then her breasts tensed hotly beneath his penetrating stare. When he lifted his eyes to her lips, she felt like a deer caught in headlights. Never had a man looked at her so hungrily, stripping her to her flesh. My God. Her lips tingled as his smoldering glance lingered there. “That’s all right. Just give me a minute?”
Clearing his throat, entranced by her soft, shapely mouth, Mac replied, “Sure. I’ll wait here in the living room.” What kind of spell was she weaving over him?
Kathy saw he had a small brown paper bag in his hand. She almost asked about its contents, but her need to get dressed won out. She turned and dashed to the bedroom, located at the end of the long hall. Glad to escape Mac’s smoldering, appreciative inspection, Kathy discovered the walk-in closet full of clothes. Her heart pounded, as she tried to concentrate on what to wear. The man looked at her and she melted! Kathy didn’t melt. But she did with him. Shaking her head, she muttered an expletive.
She discovered her luggage in the closet and dragged it out. Opting to wear some of her own clothes, she pulled out a pink tank top and a pair of comfortable trousers. Still groggy, she didn’t bother to put on a bra, which she hated wearing, anyway. She grabbed her comb and brush from the bathroom, then frantically slipped on a pair of socks and her sensible brown oxfords. Mystified by her eagerness to see Mac Coulter again, Kathy slowed her pace. Why was she acting like a smitten teenager? Those years had long since passed her by.
Mac stood up when Katherine emerged from the hall. As she came to the sofa, he gave her a slight smile. When she managed a smile in return, he felt ten feet tall. After sitting down, she drew a brush through her hair. He couldn’t help admiring those blond strands, her lush and curvy body. Before her beauty could overwhelm him, he sat down once more.
“How are you feeling?” Mac sank back in the flowery, overstuffed chair. A teak coffee table with a huge vase filled with white-and-purple dendrobium orchids provided a barrier between them.
“I feel like death warmed over,” Kathy said sleepily as she brushed her hair. When she started to raise her left arm, she flinched and bit back a moan. White-hot pain shot up her arm.
“Sore?”
“No kidding.”
“The doc said for you to take some aspirin. Did you find it in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom?” Mac watched as she lowered her arm, her soft lower lip tensed with pain.
“No, I didn’t. I was too hungry, and then after I ate, I took a hot shower and dropped dead on the sofa. I just wasn’t thinking very clearly at that time.” Of course, once she got around Mac, all her wits went out the window, anyway. Men had never affected her this way. Oh, she’d heard of some of her girlfriends being smitten like this, and she’d laughed. How could it be possible that one human could so elementally affect another? She wasn’t laughing now.
“You have a high tolerance for pain, then.”
He didn’t know the half of it. Kathy gave Mac a wry look and continued to brush her hair. “I’ve been told I do.” Managing the left side of her head was a little tricky, but she finally did. Now her hair, which was slightly wavy, hung in gold sheets around her shoulders and halfway down to her breasts. She saw his shadowed face in the lighting provided by the one lamp she’d turned on. His eyes glittered and her skin responded, tingling. F
eeling vulnerable, Kathy set the brush on the coffee table.
“What do you have in that sack?” She flinched inwardly because her tone sounded snappish even to her.
“Oh…” Mac opened it up. “Some arnica cream.” He motioned to her right hand. “I saw the black-and-blue bruises you had on your knuckles. This is a homeopathic ointment that’s great for taking out soreness. I thought you might like to try some. All you do is rub a little across the area. You’ll get fast relief, I think.” Mac got up and handed her the tube across the coffee table. Their fingers briefly touched, and the sensation was electric to Mac. Unexpected. Nice. It stirred memories of a woman touching his body. He hadn’t been with a woman in over a year, not with his deep undercover work. And he sure as hell wasn’t interested in Therese, who was always teasing and flirting with him.
“Thanks.” Kathy felt warmth, a tender ribbon, flow from her heart toward him. She tried to ignore the sensation Mac’s fingers caused by touching hers. A sizzling feeling of fire ignited within her lower body, a yearning that took her completely by surprise. There was no question that Mac Coulter was someone she could easily fall for. The fact that he worked for a drug dealer splashed ice-cold water on her ridiculous attraction. Opening the tube, Kathy carefully spread ointment across her discolored knuckles.
“I thought I’d broken my hand on that one dude,” she confided.
“Looking at the three of them, I’d say they got the worst of it.”
Her mouth quirked. After capping the ointment, she laid it on the table. “That was thoughtful of you, Mr. Coulter. Thanks.”
“Call me Mac. Remember?” God help him, he wanted to move over to her and kiss her pain away.
“Okay.” Kathy curled up on the sofa, resting her left arm against her body. The cut area ached and she knew she should take some aspirin to dull the pain. The way Mac looked at her, that hungry look, made her uneasy. Two lonely people stuck out in the middle of the jungle…Both of them Americans…That was it: loneliness was the reason for her crazy reactions to Mac. She forced herself to meet his gaze. “You came here for a reason?”
Enemy Mine Page 9
