Uncut Bundle

by Susan Stephens

  Anger at him, at herself, at the fact that nothing made sense, turned her voice cold.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Do what I want or I’ll slide this blade right between your ribs.”

  “Is this the knife you tried to use on Asaad?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I thought you told me you didn’t try to kill him.”

  “I lied.”

  “Why? What’s the sense in—”

  Leanna poked the tip of the file against his belly. “Remember what you said about having a conversation, Mr. Knight? I’d keep that in mind, if I were you. No wine, no cheese, no explanations. I’m the one giving orders now.”

  “Then try giving one that gets me off you. It’s difficult to think while you have that thing in my gut…and while you’re lying under me.”

  Leanna felt her face flood with heat. He was right about the lying under him part. They were still pressed together like lovers—and as impossible as it seemed, he was still aroused, that hard ridge of his masculinity taut against her belly.

  “Besides, if we don’t start doing something pretty soon, we’ll have a roomful of people demanding their money back.”

  She blinked up at him. “What?”

  His voice was whisper-soft, as if he were saying the things a man might say to a woman in bed.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t figure we’d have an audience.”

  “You mean…watching?”

  “Maybe. But they’re certainly listening.” A wolfish smile curved his lips. “How else will Asaad know when to make his move?”

  It was her turn to be surprised. “You know he’s going to do something to you?”

  “I figured as much, yeah.”

  “Well, if you figured it, you must have an idea.”

  A smart man would have but for the last half hour or so, Cam knew he’d been anything but smart. Still, he had the Beretta within hand’s reach.

  And she had a knife at his gut.

  “I do,” he said confidently.

  “What is it?”

  “You get that knife out of the way. Then I’ll tell you my plan.”

  “Forget it.” She hesitated. “Isn’t there someplace we can talk without worrying about people hearing us?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Where?”

  “The bathroom. It’s got marble walls and floors. We go in, close the door, turn on the water to drown out the sound of our voices and there’s a chance we can have maybe a five minute conversation before they get nervous.”

  “If you’re right—if we’re being watched—won’t they wonder if we go into the bathroom together? It could only be so we can get away from them.”

  “Not if we play our cards right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’m going to make a thing out of wanting to bathe you.”

  The tip of the blade skidded against his belly.

  “You use that thing, our chance of getting away goes from one to zero.” Cam eased back, his eyes never leaving hers. “You know what I want?” he said, his voice suddenly loud in the quiet of the room. “A bath. Scented oil, candles…”

  She stared at him.

  “Say something,” he hissed.

  “A—a bath? That sounds—it sounds—”

  “Yeah. It does.”

  Cam scooped her from the bed, held his breath and waited for the kiss of whatever it was she had in her hand, a carving knife, a steak knife—except, how big could it be if she’d been able to hide it in the bit of gold string she called a thong?

  “Bath time,” he said loudly as he carried her across the floor, into the bathroom and elbowed the door shut behind him.

  She started to speak. He put his finger over her lips and waited. Nothing happened. No pounding at the bedroom door, no shouts, no footsteps rushing down the hall. Still holding her, he reached for the taps in the tub and turned them on.

  Water drummed loudly against the marble.

  “Now,” he said quietly, “give me that knife.”

  “Tell me your plan. Then we’ll see about the knife.”

  Cam clenched his jaw. The lady was tough as well as beautiful. He’d have to handle her with a little more caution.

  “I’m going to put you down. Just don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  “You’ll have more to regret than I will.”

  Carefully he set her on her feet. The knife had disappeared—for the moment, anyway.

  “Okay,” he said, “tell me what you know.”

  “Asaad is planning something.”

  “And?”

  “I’m supposed to distract you.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Isn’t it enough?”

  Cam ran his hand through his hair. “Great,” he muttered. “My own Salome.”

  “What?”

  “Salome. Remember? The babe who got a guy so hot he didn’t even know it when she whacked off his head for the king.”

  “While you’re being clever, Asaad’s probably getting ready to kill us both. What are we going to do about it?”

  We? He almost laughed. There was no “we.” All he was interested in, when it came to this lady, was getting that weapon—whatever it was—out of the hand she was keeping behind her back. Then he’d say adios to her and get the hell out.

  She was on her own. If he took her with him, she’d be a liability.

  “Okay,” Cam said, lying through his teeth. “But you aren’t going to like my plan.”

  “Try me.”

  “They’re waiting for the big moment. The climax, as it were.”

  Color striped her cheeks. “You think this is funny?” She moved closer to him and he felt the quick kiss of steel against his belly again. “Maybe you think this is funny, too.”

  “What I think,” he said lazily, “is that you talk too much.”

  He pushed her back against the wall, cupped her face in one hand and kissed her. She gasped in surprise and when she did, he angled his mouth over hers and took the kiss deeper. She made a little sound and he reminded himself it was all an act.

  All an act, he thought…and pressed his thumb against a pressure point between her collarbone and her throat.

  She went limp in his arms. The weapon she’d threatened him with fell into his waiting hand. Not a carving knife. Not a steak knife. Not a knife at all, Cam thought wryly. It was a nail file, maybe three inches long.

  He raised his eyes to her face. The color was slowly coming back, washing her skin with the palest pink.

  “What—what did you do to me?” she whispered.

  He smiled tightly. “A little trick, that’s all.”

  “Bastard!”

  “Oh, right. You’re not into tricks, baby. You’re into the truth… Like that routine in bed. The moaning. The sighing. All real, right?”

  Crazy as it was, he half-waited for her to say yes. Yes, it had been real, not an act…

  “I did what I had to do.”

  “Remember those words,” he said, and that was when Leanna knew he was going to escape without her.

  She couldn’t let that happen. There had to be a way to make him agree to take her along, but what was it?

  “Okay,” he said softly. “Here’s how we’re going to do this. You stay here. I’ll go back into the bedroom and—”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “We stay together.”

  “This is the only way.”

  Damned right, it was. His gun was in the bedroom, and his boots, and so was a window that opened onto a path that led to the courtyard.

  “Why should I wait here if you’re going into the other room?”

  “I have a gun in the other room. I have to get it.”

  “You’re planning on going out one of the bedroom windows.”

  “Don’t be crazy.”

  Leanna jerked her chin toward a large window near the tub. “What about that?”

  “What about it?”r />
  “Does it open?”

  “Of course it opens.” Well, it probably did. He’d tried the windows in the bedroom, not this one, but what did it matter? He wouldn’t be using it.

  “Show me.”

  “I told you, my gun—”

  “You’re lying. There is no gun. You just want to escape away without me.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  Her smile was sweet. “Look,” she said. “The water’s almost at the top of the tub.”

  “Yeah. Fine.” Cam turned off the taps. “Okay. I’m going to open this door and—”

  “You’re going to open the window,” she said, and let out a blood-curdling scream.

  Cam’s eyes widened in disbelief. He cursed, slapped his hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Something smashed against the doors in the other room.

  He spun around, threw the bolt on the bathroom door. It was old and it wouldn’t hold up to more than a few blows, but any delaying action was better than none.

  Salome was already at the window, pushing at the lock.

  “It’s jammed!”

  Cam cursed, shoved her aside, beat at the lock with his fist. The nail file. Would it…? Yes. A couple of jabs and the lock sprang open.

  The sounds from outside the other room grew louder. The doors would give way any second.

  “They’re coming,” she said in a panicked whisper. “They’re coming!”

  “What a surprise,” Cam muttered as he ripped the shutters away, kicked out the glass and hoisted himself onto the wide sill.

  “Please! Don’t leave me behind!”

  He jerked around, looked down at the woman, saw her golden hair streaming over her naked breasts, saw her sky-blue eyes filled with hope and terror. She’d gotten herself into this mess, come to this hellhole for whatever she could get from Asaad, and now she’d forced him into making his escape unprepared. The Beretta that might be his only chance at survival was as much beyond his reach as the world he’d left behind when he left Dallas.

  “Please,” she whispered, “don’t leave me.”

  The sounds from outside the bedroom grew louder, as if the door were being pounded with a battering ram.

  “Please,” she said desperately.

  With a muffled curse, Cam leaned toward her. “You give me a minute’s trouble and so help me, I’ll dump you. You got that?”

  “Yes. Yes, yes, yes!”

  He held out his hand. She grabbed his wrist and he yanked her onto the sill beside him.

  “We’re going to jump,” he said, “and hit the ground running.”

  “Run where?”

  “Wherever I tell you. Ready?”

  She nodded. “Ready.”

  He could hear her teeth chattering. She was scared to death. Good, he thought grimly. Scared, she just might be tractable.

  “One,” he said. “Two…”

  He laced his fingers through hers. They jumped and she landed on her feet, despite the sky-high heels.

  Cam took a quick look around. They were in a walled passageway; overhead, a thin slice of lemon-yellow moon cast a cold glow over the hardpacked earth where, hours before, he’d first set eyes on Salome.

  “Are you as good at running as you are at playing games in bed, Salome?” He didn’t expect an answer, nor did he intend to wait for one. Instead, he shoved her behind him. “Follow me,” he said. “Run as if the hounds of hell were on your heels.”

  He was fast. He could do five miles without breaking a sweat. If she could keep up, fine. If not…

  He skidded to a stop when they reached the edge of the wall. She banged into him. He motioned her to stay back, then peered around the corner.

  The vehicles that had made up the convoy were still parked in the driveway.

  “Stay here,” he whispered.

  “No way.”

  “Stay here, damn it!” He grabbed her hand, shoved the little file into it. “Use this if you have to.”

  He started out from the shadows.

  “Wait!” she whispered, her voice urgent.

  He swung back and looked at her. “What?”

  “I don’t know your name. I mean, I can’t keep calling you Mr. Knight.”

  “It’s Cameron. Cam.”

  “Cam,” she said, and gave him a wobbly smile.

  Impulsively he plunged his hand into her hair, cupped her head and kissed her. Then he took a deep breath, crouched low and started running toward the parked vehicles.

  Luck was with him. The drivers had never removed the ignition keys. He plucked them from each vehicle and shoved them in his pocket. He’d just reached the Humvee at the head of the line when the throaty growl of an angry mob broke the silence of the night.

  The sultan’s goon squad had beaten down the door and found nobody home.

  Cam swung around. “Salome,” he yelled. “Run!”

  She hurtled toward him, threw herself into the Hummer as he turned the key. The engine roared to life and the vehicle shot forward just as the first of Asaad’s men came flying around the corner.

  “Get down,” Cam snapped. When she didn’t move fast enough, he reached over, palmed the top of her head and shoved her down in her seat. “Damn it, what did I say? You do as I tell you.”

  “I dropped the nail file,” she said breathlessly.

  “Tough,” he snarled, as he shifted gears. “I guess you’ll just have to rough it.”

  He knew damned well she’d been thinking of the file as a weapon lost but they had bigger worries now, thanks to her. She’d forced him into an escape he hadn’t planned and wasn’t ready for.

  The chatter of a Kalashnikov shattered the night but they were moving fast. Before very long, the men and the bullets were too far back to matter.

  Ahead lay the endless desert.

  And whatever slim hope they had of survival.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE Humvee flew across the hardpacked sand.

  Cam tossed all the keys he’d taken out the window while Leanna fumbled with what was left of her bra. Somehow, she managed to tie the ends together. It was surreal enough to be racing across the desert next to a man like Cameron Knight without doing it with her breasts bared.

  Had she really been dancing in Ankara a few days ago, practicing pliés and arabesques? Now she was in a place ruled by psychopaths, her life in the hands of a cold-eyed stranger who drove the Hummer as if it were a race car, his eyes fixed on whatever was ahead.

  Sand, she thought bitterly. That’s what was ahead. Sand and her life, in this man’s hard hands.

  His hands hadn’t felt hard when they’d touched her. Her skin—her skin still tingled from his touch.

  Heat swept into her face and she swung toward the side window. Why think about it? She was a trained dancer. She knew how to get into a role. That was what she’d done, in his arms, and without conscious effort.

  Now she had another role to play. She had to keep him from dumping her by being—

  “…useful.”

  Leanna blinked. “What?”

  “I said, how about doing something useful?”

  “Like what?”

  Like finding a way to cover yourself up, Cam thought. His hands tightened on the wheel. At least she’d managed to rig the bra so her breasts were covered, but they still threatened to spill from those glittering gold cups. Her legs, stretched out before her and highlighted by the snaking ribbons of gold, had to be a thousand miles long. And if that damned thong rode any lower on her belly…

  “See what you can find to take with us after we ditch the Hummer.”

  “Why would we ditch it?”

  “Because it’s too easy a target to spot.”

  Leanna popped open a compartment and rummaged through it. “We’ve got a notepad and a pen.”