She sat on the deck eating her breakfast and watched the sun’s rays burn through. The mist disappeared like magic. The few straggling white and yellow water lilies hugging the lakeshore begged her to reach out and feel their soft dewy petals. Having learned the lesson of leech habitation, she glanced at the canoe firmly attached to the dock. "Hmm... leech-free transportation," she purred into the emptiness of her surroundings.
A yelp from the doorstep warned that Spooky had wiggled through the cracked opening of the screen door. "Hey, Spooks, come down here. I have a surprise."
He peeled off the steps in a shot, barking his happy nature all the way to her side.
"Want to go for a paddle?" The bright-eyed pup twisted in circles until his hind end skidded on the slippery grass and forced his rear to the ground. She pointed to the canoe. "Okay, jump in. I haven’t tried this on my own, how hard can it be?" Jen laughed at the pup’s exuberance when he did as ordered, and with a flying leap landed near the center. Spooky barked steadily until she joined him.
"Wait a minute. There are life jackets in the cabin. I’ll go get one for me." Within minutes she was back, her vest zipped. "I hope you can swim. I know how you panic if your feet go out from under you." She laughed at the pup’s wistful expression that fit neatly with what she said. "One of these days I’m going to teach you to dog paddle."
Jen untied the canoe and manipulated herself to the end seat. She pulled a paddle from underneath the yoke, and with measured strokes broke the glassy surface. Once the canoe backed away from the dock, she rested the paddle on her knees. Exhilarated by her accomplishment, she gazed out at the water and inhaled the fresh air.
"What’s all the noise out here? You trying to wake the dead?" Mr. Kidnapper emerged from the trees.
Jen gulped in mid-breath from the sudden invasion of her privacy. She wasn’t going ashore with him there, but she had the most incredible urge to run just to see how speedy a human tank could be coming after her. "Sorry if Spook’s enthusiasm got out of hand. Go back to bed and dream about having manners. We’re going for a paddle."
His bare feet thumped along her wharf in long strides. She marveled at the massive appeal of his strong husky legs protruding from torn frayed jean shorts. In the clear light of day, with his stringy wet hair dripping over his forehead, he still was sexy in a sobering, mind-boggling, bedeviling way. But in his red sleeveless tee shirt with a psychedelic lightning bolt and pitchfork streaking through the center, he was different from the god who had saved her from the leeches. His gold armband exuded an impression of power. He was the devil incarnate.
Four
To Jen’s dismay, Mitch’s powerfully built arms and neck disturbed her as much as his entire naked body. This time the sensation was in a place other than her stomach. She cursed her mind for broadcasting her interest to her hormones.
"Looks like you took another swim." She tried to sound cool, collected.
"I did, a few minutes ago. Had to get rid of the smoke and grime." His boyish grin surprised her. "You just missed getting the thrill of your life. I didn’t wear trunks."
"You seem determined to shock me, Mitch, but you’re out of luck. After our little adventure last night, nothing about you would astound me."
"Would that mutt have any argument with me going out on the lake with you? A canoe paddle might work off my excess energy."
"The way you treated him, the dog won’t let you go. He’s fussy who travels with him. Besides, you don’t have a life jacket."
"I don’t need one. I can swim."
"You don’t need one because you aren’t coming. After the late hours you keep, you should be exhausted, making it unlikely you’d get back to shore if we got dunked." Although her plan called for using him, she wasn’t ready to tackle the chore yet. Especially not out in a small boat where she would be in close quarters.
"The presence of a stubborn woman revs up my engine. Stop thinking up excuses, Jen. I’ve canoed a lot since I came here."
"Well, this stubborn woman can manage better alone, thank you. I want a peaceful canoe ride, not one with a maniac."
"And I suppose you’re an excellent canoeist?"
"I know how to paddle."
"Well, you won’t go far that way... you’re sitting in the bow. Come on, be a sport. I know the lake and I’ll keep my trap shut. There are places you wouldn’t believe at the other end. I’ll show you. I won’t bite." He beckoned her with his hand. "Work your ass back here to the dock."
Spooky moved to Jen’s feet as Mitch’s plea turned urgent.
"Don’t think so, sorry." Jen cautiously switched to the seat in the stern to correct her mistake. The canoe rocked, and she grabbed onto the sides for balance, all the while expecting to topple into the water. She slid onto the seat once the canoe stopped teetering. What seemed pleasurable before had gone sour, especially with an audience witnessing her skill--or lack thereof. "Dip and stroke, dip and stroke," she muttered. It seemed easy enough when it had been explained to her years ago. She put into practice what she remembered, yet the canoe traveled in tight circles, gradually bringing her closer to the dock, and to him.
"Having a slight bit of trouble, are we?" Mitch crowed, not bothering to mask his glee.
Jen groaned when the canoe thumped against the wooden structure. Resigned to the fact she was useless as captain of her own ship, she gritted her teeth and jutted her chin in a sour grapes mode. "We didn’t really want to go out anyway."
"Look, I’ll pay you back for any inconvenience I’ve caused by taking you on a grand tour of the lake. Relax and enjoy the scenery. I won’t bother you. Or are you afraid of me?"
"Wouldn’t anyone be afraid of you? You’re built like Arnold Whatshisface."
"You have a point there. I’m really not planning to jump your bones, though. I like my women willing."
"Damn right I’m not willing."
"No kidding. You wallow in anger and frustration."
"Now you’re a shrink?" Her hands went to her hips. "Anything else?"
"You sure seemed mighty relieved when I burst into the washroom."
Her brows puckered. "How did you just happen to come into the ladies room?"
"I saw those broads go in and didn’t think you could hide your class from them, not even under all that gunk on your face. They’re the type who act-out their jealousy."
Class? He thought I was classy? A ridiculous swell of pride burst forth from the compliment. "I was handling them okay."
"Maybe so, but admit it, you were glad to see me."
His honesty shone through his clear eyes and led her to believe he said what he truly thought. Why should he be interested in attacking her when he preferred sluts? Besides, the far side of the lake was lined with cottages whose owners could be attracted by a loud scream--if they canoed close to that side. She’d gone off in the dead of night with him and returned home safe; there was little reason to think he’d try anything in daylight.
"Oh, I hate to see a man beg. Come on!" In spite of her hostility, she couldn’t deny how her pulse raced when he looked into her eyes. If she befriended him temporarily, she might find out where to get the papers she needed.
Jen shifted to the bow, leaving the way open for the interloper to get in the stern. Mitch grabbed the other paddle and shoved off, then applied it to the water as an extension of his arms. Arms that rippled with each stroke he made. Facing him, she watched with fascination as his muscles flexed with the movement. A quick peek at his expression revealed his appreciation of her body. She instantly regretted donning the brief white shorts and skimpy blue-checkered blouse that tied just under her breasts.
"I see that leech mark in front isn’t as inflamed as it was."
She flushed and looked down at her exposed midriff. "Thanks to the ointment and the doctoring I had." Jen retrieved her paddle, turned around, and matched his stroke. She splashed through the water’s surface with excessive exertion.
"Hey, take it easy. Mustn’t let our temper get
to us."
Jen glanced over her shoulder. "I’m not angry, just exasperated." She shook her head. "You don’t discourage easily."
"No, ma’am, I don’t."
The green, fifteen-footer glided effortlessly, making for a smooth ride. Acutely aware of his presence, each dip of his paddle sent shivers tingling along her spine. Disconcerted, she tried to concentrate on the scenery.
Mitch steered within reach of thick spreads of lily pads rimming the lakeshore. They ceased paddling long enough for her to run her fingers over the flat leaves and few petals remaining. Several times they disturbed frogs hunting flies for breakfast. Each unexpected green plop into the water brought a startled giggle and a quick turn of her head to see if Mitch caught the spectacle. His eyes were always on her.
When he maneuvered around jutting docks, Jen searched for shoreline activity. In one spot, the sound of an axe distracted her and she waved at the early riser chopping firewood for his stove. She sniffed at the air, enjoying the smell of wood smoke as it drifted from a cabin similar to Mitch’s. Her mind instantly dove back to his presence.
So far, he was keeping true to his word and encouraging her to enjoy the outing. His paddle’s melodic rhythm had certainly lessened her tension. Her mind gradually let go of the thoughts that had kept her live-wired through the night. Pleasure cocooned her in peace.
Once they passed the cottages and headed into the lake’s deserted section, her uneasiness returned. She again became overly conscious of the masculine presence at her back. Yet the anxiety wasn’t caused by fear. She had no burning desire to leap out of the canoe and get away from her guide. Her fluctuating emotions surprised her. Was she being influenced by the forces of nature? Mitch stopped paddling. Now what’s Mr. Muscles up to?
She glanced over her shoulder again and saw Mitch pointing to a family of ducks swimming single file near the grassy bank. She lifted her paddle, and they drifted in silence. When she heard a sudden splash, she discovered they’d bugged a turtle from a log wedged between two large rocks. It resurfaced and poked its head clear of the water, looked at them as if annoyed, then disappeared to its watery world.
They paddled in silence for another half-hour, studying the shoreline for more signs of wildlife. Jen noticed they were gliding toward a new waterway, the entrance almost hidden by thick clumps of grass and spindly reeds. The canoe entered a narrow channel that opened to a sandy beach snuggled in a tiny cove. Away from habitation, she had a sense of being in an enchanted land. Immersed in the progress of their exploration, she expected Mitch would simply turn the craft around and exit the way they entered. She was alarmed to see they were headed directly to shore.
"We’re putting in here?" she asked.
"I want to show you something."
She watched him pull his tee shirt over his head and sling it across his seat. Agitated, she stared at his golden brawn. Spooky, silent during the ride, rose from his stone-like perch and yipped with excitement at nearing land. Since Mitch had control from the stern, she could do nothing but let him ease the canoe onto the beach. This was not a good idea.
"Up for a bit of a trek?"
"Where to?" Alarm bells shrieked in her head.
"Jeez, don’t go getting all hot and bothered. If you’re anxious, we’ll go back."
Not wanting to betray the wimp she was, Jen shrugged. If he were honestly attempting to make up for last night, far be it for her to dissuade him. She needed and wanted real adventure in her life. She didn’t want to rely on the haphazard virtual excitement of a computer that could cast her adrift without notice. And besides, to carry out her plan she needed to know him better. "Are you sure you can handle tramping around in your bare feet?"
"Jen... will you let me worry about that? Stop finding excuses."
"Okay. Show me your secret."
"This way, ma’am. Will the pooch come willingly?"
"He’ll come. Have you noticed he hasn’t barked at you?"
"Yeah. He’s settled down a bit. Guess I’m forgiven for manhandling him." Mitch guided the canoe ashore, but before he climbed out, he tapped her on the shoulder. "Ah, Jen?"
"Yes?"
"Look... about last night... I wouldn’t have let any harm come to you or the pup."
She swiveled her bottom around and stared him in the eye. "That’s a hard sell, Mitch. I had no way of knowing what you’d planned. I don’t like being steamrolled by a Chewbacca taking possession of the only things I value."
He reached up and fingered his beard. "You don’t approve of this bushy covering, huh? Then I’ll have to prove I can be a pussycat."
"Right on. One that can be tamed." She looked away.
"You’ll see."
One thing for certain: Mitch was not the kind to pussyfoot around. No, he was direct. She heaved a disgusted sigh. The unwelcome arousal at the sight of his torso caught her off-guard. This stimulation was counter-productive and would only further complicate her already muddled life.
"Okay, where are we going?" she asked, her feet firmly planted on the shore with her hands braced on her hips.
"By following that path over there, we’ll come to a waterfall. At the base is a deep pond, like a lagoon actually. Just like in the movies. By the time we get there, the sun will have warmed us even more and we can swim to cool off."
"I don’t have a swim suit."
"So? Who cares? No one goes there. I only found it by chance. Let’s go."
She raised her eyebrow.
Mitch groaned. "Okay, forget it. We’ll go back."
She sucked in her breath. Damn him, anyway. "No. I’ll come." Not daring by nature, her foundation of believing she had a say in her life had started to crumble some time ago. That was part of the reason she’d come into this isolated world--to regain her perspective. The same perspective in her work that had kept her detached and protected her. Surely it couldn’t hurt to play this little excursion to her advantage and enjoy it at the same time. "Come on, Spooky, get out of the canoe. We’re going on an adventure."
~ * ~
As they hiked, Mitch’s mind flooded with last night’s "come hither" image of Jen’s rouged cheeks and prominent lips. He’d noticed her body, gloved by tight-fitting jeans, had a tendency to make his own respond with eagerness. Watching her sashay across the floor to the ladies room had almost done him in. Yet, he knew she wasn’t anything like the run of sluts that dripped over his shoulder at the bar. He had said she had class and he meant it.
When he’d seen those rough tickets enter the washroom after her, he’d known she was in trouble. In retrospect, listening to Bull’s ultimatum was enough to stomach, but couldn’t compare with the knots formed in his chest at the thought she was in over her head--a place he had put her... while they casually discussed her death.
Mitch looked on her as a gift, a pawn used by him to impress Bull. The fact the gang didn’t know where he hung out had left them suspicious. They’d draw the conclusion he was shacked up with his woman. This bought him time. Time for the police to arrange his withdrawal as a witness and come up with other evidence.
Now to his surprise, she tantalized him just as much as last night, though she was decidedly different--no makeup, no sexy hip movement, no flamboyant harping. Aware of how she had paddled in rhythm with him, he couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have her move in sequence to his other rhythms. Beneath the skylight.
"Are you sure your feet don’t hurt?" Her words brought him out of his reverie, and he stopped and turned.
"Concerned for my welfare are you?"
"Not really. Anything that keeps you out of commission keeps you away from bugging me." Jen smiled and shifted the tie on her blouse so the knot didn’t cut in.
His eyes drew like magnets to her breasts; he grinned. "Don’t be too sure about that. It might have the opposite effect." He shook his head and continued on the narrow trail.
The persona she presented in the chat room was that of a gentle soul living in a fantasy world. Yet he
knew her life must be anything but fanciful after she’d shot a man. His own life had never been creative until he connected with her on the computer. Perhaps he could afford to allow her a bit more time for the illusion, at least until Bull located her. He couldn’t suppress the desire to know her better, even though the order for her killing was a serious one and vital to his cause.
"My secret place isn’t far," he said to encourage her. "The short hike is good for our stiff bones."
"Spooky’s enjoying the trip. So am I. Thanks, Mitch."
Through a canopy of leafy maples, the sun splashed against the all but invisible path. As they walked along, the coolness beneath was deluged with scents of spruce, moisture-strewn decaying leaves, and a few lingering traces of wild roses. The rise of the land called for silence as they expended their energy on the climb. When they came to a drift of loose shale, Mitch picked his way carefully, then leaned back and offered his hand. Jen didn’t hesitate to grab hold and let him pull her along behind him. Her faith in his guiding ability excited him. Her grip was heated, her eyes sparkling. A tumultuous roar in the background added to the stimulation of an already fast-beating pulse. Jeez, Mitch, calm down. He wasn’t sure he wanted his heightened feelings appearing now when he had promised to keep himself in her good graces.
Five minutes later they came to the edge of a wide, fast-flowing stream that vanished over a precipice. Jen peeked over the rim and stared in awe at the cascade of water that fell into a giant caldron about thirty feet below them. They chose a well-used animal path down to the white foaming splashes. Around the capsule of water, a shoreline of pebbles protruded from beneath the forest growth. Against the rock-walled backdrop, a delicate rainbow arced through a rising mist. The transparent colors exploded with vibrancy; the beauty moved Jen to tears.
undercovertrouble_341-1e1.htm Page 7
