MURDOCK'S LAST STAND

by Beverly Barton

  "What if I told you that I'm not interested in an encore?"

  "I wouldn't believe you."

  He moved forward; she retreated.

  "All I want to do is take care of you," he said.

  "All you want is to work off a little frustration in the sack."

  "As I recall, you rather enjoyed our last little frustration-relieving session."

  His broad grin irritated her unbearably. He was deliberately goading her, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from rising to the bait. She hated the fact that he was right. She had more than enjoyed their sexual encounter in the early hours this morning on the gunboat. But damn him for being ungentlemanly enough to remind her. That's the problem, she told herself, Aloysius Murdock isn't a gentleman. Not even back in Atlanta, ensconced in the trappings of a civilized man. And most definitely not here in the middle of the jungle, when he was the consummate warrior-protector.

  She glowered at him, her expression daring him to say or do anything more to provoke her. He accepted the challenge by moving in on her, slowly but surely reaching out for the kill. Inch by steady inch, she continued backing away from him. And inch by determined inch he stalked her, forcing her to retreat.

  Suddenly, without warning, she lost her footing and plunged into the pond behind her. Flailing arms and sprawling legs. Wide, startled eyes. A cry for help. And then a resounding flop, followed by a loud splash. Catherine fell flat on her behind, straight into the shallow pond. Landing on the gritty bottom, she gasped as water rose to her neck and slapped her in the face.

  Murdock stood on the bank, laughing.

  Using her hands as leverage, she hoisted herself up onto her knees and then onto her feet. With menace in her eyes, she stomped back onto dry ground. Without acknowledging his presence, she sat down at the edge of the pond and removed her boots and socks. Then she stood. Allowing her toes to mire up in the mud surrounding the water's edge, she unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it aside. With her naked back to Murdock, she ignored him completely as she unzipped her pants and then tossed them aside. Her only remaining garment was the red silk panties Landra had given her.

  She could hear Murdock's ragged breath and knew exactly what she was doing to him. Swinging her hips provocatively, she dabbled her muddy toes into the water. Tossing back her head, she flung her hair over her shoulder and then glanced at Murdock.

  "I'm going to take my bath now," she told him. "If you still want to take care of me, then why don't you go rustle me up some towels and come back with them in about half an hour."

  She plunged into the cool spring water and swam the length of the pond. Just as she neared the opposite bank, she heard the thunderous splatter of Murdock's big body entering the water. She smiled secretly, all the while plotting his demise. It was high time someone taught the overconfident Mr. Murdock that he couldn't always have what he wanted.

  * * *

  Chapter 12

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  Catherine was toying with him. Tempting him. She was giving him a glimpse of what he so badly wanted, but his guess was that she had no intention of following through with her seduction. The witch just wanted to make him suffer. However, he didn't think she'd figured her own needs into the equation. She might be able to resist him, but could she deny her own desires?

  By stripping in front of him and luring him to come after her, Catherine was acting out of character. He'd bet his life that if they were back in the States, she couldn't shed her clothes or her inhibitions so easily. But here, in Zaraza, with danger and possible death facing them in the days ahead, it was easier for her to throw caution to the wind. And it was easier for him to take what he wanted without torturing himself about the consequences.

  Murdock swam across the small pond, reaching Catherine in minutes. Waiting for him in the shallow end, she stood there, waist-deep in water, with moist droplets beading on her bare breasts and a come-hither smile on her softly parted lips.

  Emerging from beneath the water, he towered over her. Catherine suddenly realized that he was naked. Completely naked. Where the dark water concealed her from the waist down, it hit him midhip. The upper thrust of his erection bobbed just above the surface. She closed her eyes, but couldn't blot out the sight of his powerful arousal. Get hold of yourself! You're the one in charge, the confident seductress within her said. Don't let him reverse the roles and become your seducer.

  "Enjoying your bath?" he asked, but deliberately didn't touch her. "If you need someone to scrub your back, I'm available."

  "I forgot to bring any soap." She smiled sweetly, deceptively. "You don't happen to have any in your pocket, do you?"

  "Nope. I'm afraid I don't have any pockets."

  "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed."

  Murdock's chuckle shook his muscular chest. He eased closer to the bank, then stepped forward, leaving only his feet still submerged in the pond. "See. No pockets."

  He's daring you, Catherine told herself. Do not let him intimidate you. Garnering all her courage, she looked at him. Big mistake! Like a well-formed giant sculpted from flesh-colored marble, he stood there in all his masculine glory, the moonlight spotlighting him and the glow from the lanterns dancing across the water to lap about his feet. Her hands itched to touch him. Running her tongue across her lips, she recalled the taste of him. Her nipples tightened, beading to sensitive points. A deep, purely feminine ache throbbed between her legs.

  Big as a mountain, massive and powerful, the very epitome of manhood at its finest, Murdock smiled at her. A hundred crazed butterflies exploded into flight inside her belly. Her femininity clenched and unclenched, moistening and swelling in preparation.

  You're still in charge, she tried to convince herself. Just because your body is betraying you, doesn't mean you can't resist temptation. Show this man he can't snap his fingers and make you come running. Make him beg for what he wants. Make him get down on those big, rock-hard knees and say please. Don't be like every other woman in his life. Make him remember you!

  Catherine walked out of the pond, rivulets of water cascading over her breasts and plastering the red silk panties to her belly and cupping them seductively to her mound. Murdock swallowed hard. Like an Amazon princess, tall, lithe, well-proportioned and possessing a strength of will and purpose, Catherine approached him. Then when she was within two feet of him, she stopped. Clasping her left hand around her hair, she squeezed the moisture from the tips, then ran her hand over her shoulder and slowly spread out her palm as she slid her hand from the top of one breast to the other.

  Murdock stared, watching her every movement as a hawk would zero in on its prey. She lifted her right hand to join her left, then glided them over and then under her breasts. Murdock's mouth opened. His eyes narrowed to slits. His sex swelled, growing harder by the minute. Taking her own sweet time, she spread her open palms out over her belly and then carried them across to her hips. Hooking her thumbs under the waistband of her panties, she smiled at Murdock.

  She's enjoying herself tremendously, he thought. She knows just what she's doing to me and she loves the feeling of power it gives her. If she wanted to be the one in charge, the one to control the situation, then he'd gladly allow her the upper hand. For now.

  She teased him by lowering the panties just a bit, then stopping. For a novice at this sort of thing, she was doing a damn good job of torturing the hell out of him. As if swaying to some sort of music in her head, she bumped her hips back and forth, then with leisurely finesse dragged the panties over her hips and down her thighs. The puff of red silk dropped to her ankles. Murdock sucked in a deep breath. When she kicked the panties into the water, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

  Her tinkling laughter rippled along every nerve ending in his body. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, a triumphant twinkle in her eyes.

  "I think I'll take my bath now," she said. "Even without any soap, I should be able to rinse away the dirt and grime."

  While he stood on the bank and watched
, she eased back into the pond, but only up to her hips. Dipping the water with her hands, she splashed it over her body, from face to navel. Using her hands like a washcloth, she scrubbed herself with a soft, circular motion.

  Time to stop observing and take action, Murdock thought. Give her a little of her own medicine and see if she likes the taste of it.

  He went after her, his attack swift, but gentle. Before she knew what hit her, he plunged into the pond and grabbed her around the waist. Crying out, she pummeled his chest with her fists.

  "Let go of me!"

  He manacled her fists in one hand, holding them between their wet bodies. Then with his free hand he gripped the back of her neck and held her in place, pressing her firmly against him.

  "This is what you wanted, isn't it, honey?" He mouthed the question, his lips almost touching hers. "This is what you were asking for and we both know it."

  She squirmed, trying to escape from his tenacious hold. "I wasn't asking for—"

  "No, Cat, you weren't asking, you were begging for it." Tightening his grip on her neck, he nudged her closer, until her trapped hands pressed between her breasts and her belly flattened against his erection. "You don't wave a red flag in front of a raging bull unless you want him to attack."

  "Is that what you're doing, attacking me?" Her voice quavered every so slightly as she tilted her chin and gave him that haughty little look he so despised. "I thought you were a man, not an animal."

  "You should know that I'm both. Most men are. And when it comes to sex, I'm more animal than man."

  She glared at him and he suspected that it took a great deal of courage on her part to confront him so boldly. He loosened his grip on her hands, allowing her to tug them free. But in doing so, she inadvertently brushed one hand across the top of his bulging sex. He jerked. She gasped. Their gazes locked and held. She eased her hands up his body, stopping when she reached his shoulders.

  Forking his fingers, he slid them up her neck and into her hair to cup the back of her head. "If you're going to dish it out, you've got to learn to take it."

  "I—I can take it," she assured him in an uncertain tone.

  "Sure you can, Cat." He grinned wickedly. "Why don't you show me just how much you can take?" Lifting one of her buttocks with his free hand, he ground her into his arousal.

  She trembled from head to toe. "I can take you … or leave you, Mr. Murdock. Unlike you, I'm capable of controlling my animal urges. If I want to."

  "Is that so? Mmm-hmm." He nuzzled her neck as he patted her behind. "Do you want to?"

  "Do I want to do what?" she asked, breathlessly.

  "Do you want to control your animal urges."

  "I—I— You don't mean any more to me than I do to you."

  "Is that right?"

  "I know that this morning, when we were caught in middle of the battle, I told you that I was probably falling in love with you, but—"

  "This morning you thought you might die," he finished the explanation for her.

  "Right!"

  "And in retrospect, you realize you were mistaken about your feelings for me."

  "Yes, that's it exactly," she said.

  "Well, then, we don't have a problem, do we?" He nibbled on her ear, while he caressed her spine, from neck to hips.

  "No, we—we don't have a problem." She grasped his shoulders, loving the feel of his hard muscles beneath her fingers.

  "I don't mean anything more to you than you do to me," he repeated her declaration.

  "That's right." Her breasts rose and fell with each labored breath, as Murdock's masculine presence surrounded her, seeped into her body and took possession.

  As he clasped her chin, he circled her lips with the inside of his thumb. "You know that I want you. You can feel just how much. The question is, are you willing to admit that you want me, too?"

  If she admitted that she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her, she realized that she would be admitting defeat. All her efforts to show him that he couldn't always have what he wanted would have failed miserably. In seducing Murdock, she had unwittingly been seduced.

  "I can have sex just for the sake of having sex, the way you do," she said, trying to convince herself as well as him. "But neither of us have any contraceptives, so … we'd have to—to be very careful."

  His mouth took hers in a kiss that robbed her of breath and rational thought. With his lips still on hers, he swept her up out of the water and into his arms. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face against his throat. He carried her onto the bank, then stormed toward the tent.

  Once inside the small tent, he lowered her to the pallet of blankets on the ground, then straddled her hips. Hovering over her, big, hard and powerfully aroused, Murdock studied every inch of the woman beneath him.

  More than anything he wanted to find release within the depths of her body, but he would have to settle for less. If he could control the urge to mate with her, he'd be able to give her pleasure and accept pleasure in return, without any risks. But the primitive need to plant his seed inside her rode him hard.

  Easing down beside her, he wrapped her in his embrace and held her close, drowning in the sweet scent of her feminine body. Catherine. Beautiful Catherine. A woman like no other. Strong, smart, courageous. His equal in every way. His superior in many.

  Why had she retracted her confession of love? he wondered. Had he wounded her pride by not reciprocating and declaring his undying love for her? What difference does it make? He didn't want Cat to love him, did he? No! Definitely not! An uncomplicated affair was what they both needed and what they both wanted. No messy emotions to cloud the issue. Sex for the sake of sex. Nothing more.

  "I do care about you," he told her, his voice a growling whisper. "As long as we're in Zaraza, you'll be my woman, but once we cross the border—"

  She covered his lips with her index finger. "Shh … I'm not asking for more than tonight and however many nights we have together. This isn't real … this passion between us. It's part of the nightmare I entered the day I found out that Lanny was still alive. You and me, my father's rescue and my being trapped in Zaraza with you are all moments out of time, separate and apart from my real life back in Huntington. Once we leave here, it's over for us. I know that better than you do."

  "And you're willing to accept what I can offer you … here, now? With no plans for the future. No love. No commitment."

  "Very few women are given the chance to live a fantasy, to know this kind of passion." She slid her hand down his body and circled his erection. "I ache with wanting you."

  No woman had ever called him her fantasy. Catherine's admission that he was hers blew his control to smithereens. He wanted to tell her that she was his fantasy, too. That she was all he could ever want in a woman—and more. But instead of saying the words, he would show her how he felt. He would turn their fantasies into reality.

  "I'm going to love you all night." His kiss possessed, ravaged and aroused.

  Her response equaled his attack. Their lips clung, thrust and devoured. Their bodies entwined. Arms and legs wrapping and locking. Rolling and tumbling, they slid off the pallet and then back on. He whispered hot, savage vulgarities as his big hands explored her body. She urged him, encouraged him, seduced him with her actions and her own crude language. They touched and kissed, licked and bit, sucked and nibbled, until there wasn't an inch of unchartered flesh on their bodies.

  Using his fingers, as well as his tongue and teeth, he caressed her to the point of madness, giving her repeated pleasure. She writhed and squirmed and cried out as yet another shattering climax claimed her.

  Every time she tried to ease his frustration, he stalled her, putting her off, suffering the torment of the damned. But he finally reached the breaking point. Nothing mattered except claiming this woman in the most basic, elemental way a man can claim a woman. Nothing less would satisfy the raging hunger clawing inside him like a caged animal demanding freedom.

  Straddl
ing her, he lifted her hips, seeking the entrance to her body. Clinging to him, she arched her back and thrust her hips upward, opening herself to him. He lunged into her, diving deeper and deeper until her sheath fully encompassed him. This was heaven, he thought. Pure, sweet, worth-dying-for heaven!

  She tightened around him, fitting him snugly within her. She had never known such ecstasy. He was big and hard and filled her completely. She had been created for this man, this moment, this indescribable pleasure. What they shared was more than passion, even more than love.

  Their bodies began the mating dance, slowly, rhythmically, each savoring the delicious sensations spiraling around inside them. With each thrust and parry, the tension built, the passion swelled.

  He wanted to make it last—just a little longer. If only he could hold on. Wait. Wait for the earth-shattering climax. But his libido paid no heed.

  She wished this moment could last forever. She longed to postpone the completion as surely as she craved release. But the tightness, the pounding ache grew stronger and stronger. She couldn't hold on, couldn't stop the inevitable.

  She broke first, her release washing over her like a tidal wave. The force of her climax shuddered through her, its strength diminishing slowly, lingering, sensitizing her whole body so that when he lunged one final time to achieve his own fulfillment, a second shock wave hit her full force. As he jetted into her, she held him, loving him, glorying in the harsh, guttural cries rising from his throat.

  He collapsed on top of her, completely drained, totally satisfied and astonished by the power of the connection between Catherine and him. Sliding to her side, he enveloped her in his embrace. She snuggled against him, kissing his shoulder, his neck and then lifting herself just enough to reach his lips.

  "I loved making love with you," she told him. "I've never known anything … never experienced anything remotely like… It was wonderful. You were wonderful. I was wonderful." Tears glazed her eyes as she looked down into his face.