Each Time We Love

by Shirlee Busbee

  Savanna was trouble in more ways than one as far as Adam was concerned, and the thought of extracting a little revenge from that tall, provocatively curved body was frequently at the forefront of his mind. Escape was his first object, but having all that supple, pale flesh to torment at his leisure was definitely in Adam's plans.

  Knowing that he didn't have a lot of time, he set events into motion. Jeremy was closer to him, which suited Adam just fine. Doubling over as if in great pain, he cried, "Christ! A snake! It bit me!"

  Jeremy, who had been crouching by the feebly burning fire, leaped to his feet, his face paling. Savanna, farther away, dropped the load of firewood she was carrying and ran toward Adam. Jeremy stood indecisively, clearly not certain what to do.

  Adam groaned as loudly and pitifully as he could and heard Savanna say breathlessly, "Dios! Help him, you fool!"

  Her words prodded Jeremy into motion, and picking up the long black rifle propped against the tree, he approached Adam's crumpled form. "Where is it?" Jeremy asked warily. "I don't see no snake."

  A feral grin on his face, Adam growled, "Right here, my friend!" Almost faster than the eye could follow, Adam kicked Jeremy in the stomach with both feet.

  The wind knocked out of him, Jeremy groaned and stumbled backward, collapsing to the ground even as Adam leaped nimbly to his feet. A swift movement of his booted foot against Jeremy's head efficiently dispatched him, and even with his hands still bound, Adam easily snatched up the black rifle. An unfriendly smile on his face, he swung around and leveled the weapon in Savanna's direction.

  The entire incident had taken only seconds, and Savanna barely had time to understand her danger before it was too late. The moment she had seen Adam's hand touch the rifle, she had known that there was nothing she could do for Jeremy; she was already spinning on her heels, seeking escape, when Adam's cold voice stopped her.

  "I wouldn't, if I were you," he said softly. "My hands might be tied, but I could still shoot you... and right now it wouldn't matter to me if it was in the back."

  Savanna froze. Everything had happened so swiftly that she still didn't quite comprehend the enormity of it, but a well-honed instinct for survival kept her locked where she stood, waiting for his next move.

  It took Adam an awkward few seconds to free his hands with the knife Jeremy carried at his side and to keep the rifle on Savanna at the same time, but he did it. Tossing aside the rawhide thongs, he glanced around, knowing that Micajah's return could still upset his plans. To Savanna, he snapped, "Get over here and tie him up."

  Savanna obeyed on leaden feet, and with fumbling movements, she did as she was told, aware of her danger. She was relieved to find that Jeremy wasn't dead, as she had feared, only knocked senseless, but all too soon, as she reluctantly followed Adam's terse instructions, Jeremy was tightly bound, his hands and feet fastened behind his back, a gag shoved between his teeth.

  When she could delay no longer, she turned to look defiantly at her captor. He was not a reassuring sight. He looked taller, beneath the rumpled, once-white shirt his shoulders broader, his long legs more powerful, and the expression on his hard face would have caused even a battle-tested warrior to quail. The long black rifle was trained unerringly on Savanna's breast, and with three days of black stubble shadowing his lower features, his thick hair tumbling in dark, rakish waves across his forehead and his sapphire-blue eyes filled with a hostile glitter, Adam was indeed a terrifying sight.

  Quelling the scream that rose in her throat, Savanna stared unflinchingly back at him, determined not to let him see how fearful she found her situation, and as the uneasy seconds passed, her hands clenched into fists. Precisely what she intended to do she didn't know, but the cold, sardonic smile that flitted across his dark face at her actions frightened Savanna more than anything that had happened so far.

  Her chin jutting out, she demanded, "And now? What do you intend to do now?"

  Neither the smile nor the unnerving expression in his dark blue eyes altered in the least. Motioning with the rifle in the direction of the remaining two horses, he murmured, "And now I intend for us to leave before your, er, friend Micajah returns."

  Her aquamarine eyes widening with horror, she asked faintly, "Surely you don't mean to...?"

  "Take you with me?" Adam finished coolly. "Certainly," His gaze traveled insolently over her lush form. "You and I have a few things to settle between us, don't we?"

  Savanna shook her head, the red-gold hair dancing like fire around her shoulders. "But you can't!" she protested stupidly. "You're free! What more can you want?"

  Some new emotion leaped in his sapphire eyes, and Adam closed the space between them. Stunningly, Savanna felt his arm close around her, and his breath was warm against her lips as he muttered, "What more can I want, spitfire? Why, I want you."

  His mouth trapped hers, the hard, knowing lips feeding on hers. When forced his tongue between her lips, ravaging her inner warmth, Savanna was engulfed by the sensations exploding through her body. In dazed compliance, she stood in his embrace, his pillaging lips and tongue making her aware of the sudden heat of his body against hers, of the quickening of her breasts and the rigid male member between their forms.

  The kiss was fiercely explicit and brief, and before Savanna could gather her shattered defenses, she was thrust away from him. Eyes huge in her white face, her lips swollen from the force of his kiss, she stared up at him.

  Adam fought for control, furious that the desire to taste that sweet, provocative mouth had swamped his common sense. His breathing was ragged, but his face was expressionless as he looked back at her, no sign evident of the white-hot passion with which he had just kissed her. And yet... he was aware of how very much he wanted to continue kissing her, painfully aware of the size and heat of his engorged manhood. Disliking her at the moment, he muttered, "Now that we understand each other, I think we'd better get the hell out of here."

  Feeling as if she had stumbled into the blackest nightmare of her life, Savanna was dragged toward the tethered horses. It had been moments since Adam had first cried out, and Savanna was shocked by his escape and the naked intent of his kiss. She knew that she had to act at once, knew that she should scream or fight or make a run for it, but it was as if her brain and body had become cotton wool; she could only half walk, half stumble in the direction in which he forced her. Frantically she tried to clear her thoughts, to concentrate, to find a way out of this new and horrible dilemma she found herself in. But Adam moved with terrifying swiftness and efficiency, and before she knew it, her hands were tied to the saddle horn, Adam was astride the other horse, and with the reins of her horse held firmly in his hand, they plunged into the forest.

  For Savanna, this nightmarish turn of events was all too familiar, almost identical to Micajah's abduction of her, but this time, she raged, it was infinitely worse. Micajah was a devil, a brutal killer, no doubt about it, but this man... Even knowing that he was a murderer and a scoundrel every bit as bad as Micajah didn't stop this man from arousing emotions within her that she had never felt before and which, perhaps most of all, she found the hardest to stomach. With Micajah, she had lived every second in fear of rape; with this man, she feared that when he decided to take her, it wouldn't be rape.... Fear mingling with fury, she stared daggers at the back of the tall man on the horse in front of her, certain she hated him more than any man she had ever met.

  Adam's thoughts about Savanna weren't any kinder than hers about him. She was a damned aggravating nuisance that he must have been addle-witted to have brought with him. The trip was going to be treacherous enough without a fractious, red-haired virago-tongued, beautiful creature like Savanna O'Rourke along. God! He must have been mad. He cursed himself viciously and roundly, but despite being disgusted with himself, he didn't cut her loose or free her. Nor did his aroused body forget the drugging taste of her lips or what she had felt like crushed against him....

  The second time a pine bough slapped him in the face, Adam
reflected darkly that it was time to stop thinking about his unwilling companion and to start concentrating on his next move. It had been luck that he had escaped, and he was aware that he was going to need a lot more than just luck if he was to come out of this scrape alive—and keep Jason from falling afoul of Micajah and Jeremy.

  Adam's mouth twisted. I should have killed Jeremy when I had the chance. Then I'd have only that bastard Micajah to worry about tracking me down.

  He frowned, thinking hard. He had discovered a lot about his captors during the past few days, and one thing was clear—the only real danger was Micajah. Jeremy might have found the dying Davalos and learned the rest of it, but alone, Jeremy would have accomplished very little. It was when he had joined up with the burly man that Jeremy had become a threat. Adam shook his head. And to think that he had innocently come to Terre du Coeur because he had been bored at Belle Vista. He certainly wasn't bored anymore, but it had to have been the devil's own luck that he had been mistaken for Jason Savage.

  Since keeping Micajah from finding out his mistake and going after the real Jason Savage was imperative, Adam concluded that until he managed to either pull Micajah's fangs or kill him, it wouldn't be safe or wise to go anywhere near Terre du Coeur or New Orleans... and before he headed for Belle Vista, he would have to make certain that he had completely shaken Micajah off his trail. Adam grimaced, not liking the prospect facing him. His only option, he finally decided, was to lead Micajah deep into Texas, and only when he was certain that he had lost him, circle back and head for Natchez.

  Even while he had been thinking, Adam had been paying attention to his whereabouts, and when the horses came to a stream, he turned them into the current and proceeded to keep them going at a brisk pace down the middle of the shallow creek. He didn't know how good a tracker Micajah might be, but there was sure as hell no reason to make it easy for him.

  Adam couldn't guess about how much time he had until Micajah was on his trail—he could have minutes or hours; it all depended on how soon Micajah found some game or gave up and returned to camp. An unpleasant smile curved his mouth as he thought of Micajah's reaction when he discovered that the quarry had fled and taken the woman with him. The notion of stealing Micajah's woman, if Savanna was Micajah's woman—and Adam was still undecided about that—pleased him.

  Glancing at the sky, Adam figured he had less than two hours of daylight, and since his whole purpose was to make things difficult for Micajah, he didn't see any harm in following the windings of the stream for the time being. At the moment he was simply content to put as much distance as possible between himself and Micajah—and hide his passing.

  In the rush to escape, Adam hadn't wasted time making an inventory of what supplies he had, but over an hour later, having seen no sign of nor heard any sounds of pursuit, and aware of the sudden increase of dark clouds overhead, he decided to take advantage of the rapidly disappearing light to check out what the horses carried in their saddlebags. Bringing the animals to the edge of the creek, Adam dismounted on the muddy shore and made a swift examination of his stolen goods.

  There wasn't much: two horses, two saddles, one filthy bedroll, an old pair of slave-shackles with an iron key, a sack of shelled corn, which they'd have to share with the horses, a skillet, a pot, some fire-starter, a small leather bag of shot and powder, the rifle and knife he'd taken from Jeremy and, of course, Savanna....

  Staring at her in the gathering shadows, Adam remembered again what her soft body had felt like pressed against his, and a wolfish grin slashed across his face. He could get used to thieving if the booty included a flame-haired, sea-eyed witch like the one glaring at him.

  Inexplicably satisfied with the situation, Adam swung up into the saddle and again urged the animals into the center of the stream. The few tracks they had made on the muddy bank would be obliterated by either the rain that was likely to fall at any minute or the rushing water of the creek.

  Not ten minutes later, it began to rain softly at first and then with increasing strength. Already tired, hungry and apprehensive, Savanna was now thoroughly miserable as the rain soaked through her clothing. The fading light had vanished with the clouds, and she wondered if her captor intended to ride all night. When he urged their horses from the stream a few seconds later, she felt a stirring of hope. Perhaps he was planning to find a spot to make camp. But then, as she thought of that blunt kiss he had forced upon her and what might happen when they did stop, her spirits plunged even lower.

  Despite being every bit as wet, tired and hungry as Savanna, Adam wasn't about to call a halt to their wild dash from Micajah's vicinity. Darkness might be falling, the rain might be damned uncomfortable, but it was a godsend as far as he was concerned: by the time the rain stopped, all signs of their tracks should be effectively erased, and he wanted to take full advantage of that. Micajah might pick up their trail, but it was going to take him days instead of hours; Adam smiled with savage satisfaction as he prodded his horse forward.

  The darker it became, the harder it rained and the slower their progress was, but beyond dismounting and leading both animals, Adam kept moving steadily through the pines. The ground was fairly level and the thick carpet of needles muffled the sounds of the horses' hooves and left little proof of their passing, but after an hour or so, even Adam had to acknowledge that it would be wise to stop—at least until the rain ceased.

  There wasn't much in the way of protection available, and deciding that the driest place they were likely to find tonight was under the sheltering limbs of a tree, Adam finally halted the horses beneath the heavy branches of a huge pine. Despite the downpour, it was relatively dry under the tree, the pine boughs making an effective umbrella.

  Dismounting, Adam tied the horses and quickly released Savanna's hands from the saddle horn and, as if she were a featherweight, swung her effortlessly to the ground. Though no longer tied to the saddle, her hands were still bound, but it was so wonderful to be off the back of the horse that she sighed with pleasure.

  Hearing that sound, Adam asked softly, "Tired? You should be—it's been a very long day and I'm afraid that it's not over with yet."

  In the gloom of the darkness, Savanna could barely make out his lean features, but she could see the gleam of his teeth and the half smile that curved his mouth. The smile both angered and alarmed her—how could he smile at a time like this? And how could she find his smile so utterly attractive? She shook herself. She was tired, exhausted, in fact, and was in no mood to cross wits with the infuriating devil who had kidnapped her, but her temper betrayed her. Shrugging, she muttered ungraciously, "I've felt worse, and I'm sure if I'm forced to spend very much time in your company, I'm going to feel a lot worse."

  The smile was wiped from his face. Legs spread apart, thumbs hooked into the waist of his breeches, he made a long, openly brazen survey of her tautly held form, those hard blue eyes stripping her wet gown from her body.

  "Perhaps," he drawled, after a humiliating length of time. "But I'm positive that you're going to make me feel very good."

  His meaning was obvious, and glaring at him, Savanna snarled, "I wouldn't count on it—unless, of course, you enjoy forcing yourself upon an unwilling woman."

  His gaze narrowed, and catching each side of her face in his two hands, he tipped her head back. Brushing his lips against hers, he murmured outrageously, "Ah, but, sweetheart, when I make love to you, you won't be unwilling."

  Crushing her soft mouth under his, Adam kissed her hungrily, holding her head imprisoned between his hands when she tried to jerk away. His lips and tongue brooked no escape; he explored and plundered her mouth at will, taking precisely what he wanted, the honied warmth he conquered even sweeter than he remembered.

  A bolt of guilty, giddy pleasure shot through Savanna at the first touch of his lips on hers, and when his marauding tongue thrust boldly into her mouth, she shivered. The motion of his tongue was pointedly carnal, and to her horror, her nipples sprang erect beneath her damp gown,
deep in her belly warmth flamed into life and between her thighs she felt a tingling heat. Frightened at how easily he conjured up feelings and emotions that she had only guessed at before his disruptive advent into her world, Savanna struggled in his arms. Reminding herself who he was gave an added impetus to her movements, and she managed to jerk her mouth from the beguiling warmth of his. Eyes blazing, she spat, "But I am unwilling!"

  An infuriating grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "Hmm, you say the words, but your body tells me something far different."

  "It does not, you conceited jackass!" Savanna insisted breathlessly.

  The grin faded from his face and, his expression intent, he growled, "Call me all the names you like, sweetheart, but don't try to deny this."

  His lips crushed against hers once more, and despite all her protestations, as his tongue again began its demanding exploration of her soft mouth, she was dizzyingly aware of an insidious, insistent fire flicking through her veins. Her mind might reject him, but her young, healthy body clamored eagerly for more of the responses he aroused with such terrifying ease. She fought against those powerful emotions, struggling violently in his arms.

  Aching to discover all the secrets of her sweet, supple form, Adam easily subdued her thrashing body against his, and he might have gone on kissing her, but one of the horses threw up its head and snorted loudly.

  Alert to danger, Adam jerked his lips from Savanna's and placed one hand over her mouth, while with his other hand he grabbed the rifle. Straining to hear any sound, his gaze piercing the darkness, he searched for whatever had caught the horse's attention, but part of his mind was on what had just transpired. Jesus! Another minute and he'd have had her on the ground—and wouldn't that have been a ridiculous position for Micajah to find them in. Furious with himself, Adam glanced down at her and, his dark blue eyes deadly, he muttered, "One sound out of you, spitfire, and you'll feel the butt end of this rifle against that lovely head of yours. Understand?"