Her smile faded. “You’re hurting?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” His hands were going numb anyhow which helped to ease the pain.
Caitlin’s kiss-me lips pulled down into a frown. “Have you always resorted to this tough guy act when you’re hurting? Or is this something you learned while riding the circuit?”
“Are you analyzing me?”
She gave an apologetic shrug. “A hazard of the profession, I guess.”
“Just my luck, getting kidnapped by a therapist.”
The poor man. He was in pain and it was all her fault. Caitlin looked around with a frown, hoping she might spot the key lying on the floor somewhere. No such luck.
“Maybe if I massage your shoulders it would help ease the pain,” she suggested, needing to do something to help.
“No need,” he replied, a bit too quickly. “I’m fine.”
“No, you aren’t. I see you wince every time you move around.” Standing, she walked around the sofa to stand behind him.
“Caitlin, what are you doing?”
She placed her hands atop his broad shoulders. “What I can to make you feel better.”
He closed his eyes with a groan as she began kneading the taut muscles.
“Is this helping?”
His head dropped back, eyes still closed. “Mmmm, yeah.”
Good. She continued her ministrations while her gaze drifted appraisingly over Dalton’s tanned face. Pure rugged masculinity from his square, unshaven jaw to his firm, sensual lips. Dark, wavy hair hung wild, like the man himself, coming to rest at the open collar of his flannel shirt. He had undoubtedly been a favorite of the Buckle Bunnies that followed the rodeo riders around from rodeo to rodeo.
He sighed his pleasure, drawing her from her thoughts. Her gaze dropped to her fingers, curled so snugly atop his muscular shoulders. This was so different from the aid she had given in the past to kids who’d gotten calve cramps while swimming in the lake. This was a man. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift again, imagining what it would feel like to run her hands over Dalton’s bare shoulders. His arms. That chest.
“Uh, Caitlin…”
Her eyes flew open to find him watching her and her hands stilled. “Y…yes?”
A slow, sexy grin slid across his tanned face. “My chest is feeling pretty relaxed now.”
“What?” she muttered then looked down to see her hands pressed against the front of his shirt. If ever there was a good time for the floor to give way and suck her in, this was it.
She immediately withdrew her hands and stepped away from the sofa, needing to distance herself from the temptation to touch him again. Exhaustion and stress was clearly muddling her ability to think.
“I wasn’t trying to chase you away,” he said, still grinning. “You just looked ready to drop.”
Yeah, right onto his lap. That was where her fantasy might have taken her had he not of spoken and jerked her back to reality.
She retreated to the window. “It’s late. I…I’m a little tired.”
“Maybe you should get some rest. Speaking of which, I don’t see a bed.”
She turned to him. “You’re on it.”
“What?”
“The sofa pulls out into a bed.”
“You should have said something.” He got to his feet and stepped away from the sofa.
“I…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He lifted a brow, his grin widening. “You afraid I’ll take advantage of you while you’re asleep?”
No, she was afraid she would take advantage of him. Caitlin laughed off his suggestion. “Hardly.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Pull out the bed. I’d help, but I’m a little indisposed at the moment.”
“There’s really no hurry.” She plopped herself back down onto the sofa. “I’m not that tired. Why don’t we just sit here and kiss a little?”
His dark brow lifted. “What?”
She let out a shriek of embarrassment. “Talk! I meant talk a little.”
Dalton chuckled, the corners of his blue eyes creasing with mirth. “I like your first suggestion better.”
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” she replied with a groan. “That was a slip of the tongue.”
“Hmm, slip of the tongue, eh?”
“Don’t even go there,” she said, her warning ending in a yawn.
“Come on, Caitlin, you’re exhausted. I’m tired. It’s not like you’re in any danger from me. You’re the kidnapper and I’m handcuffed, remember?”
“I suppose you’re right,” she conceded with another yawn.
He stepped out of her way as she tugged the cushions from the sofa. “Might as well get comfortable. Who knows how long we’re gonna be stuck in this place.”
Grabbing onto the pull bar, Caitlin tugged at the frame, carefully unfolding the bed. “Let me grab some sheets.” She walked over to the cabinet where the linens were kept and then set to making the bed.
“Hope it’s softer than it looks,” Dalton said when she was done.
“It is,” she assured him.
He settled onto one side of the mattress with a deep sigh of pleasure, tucking his arms behind his head. “Now that’s comfort.”
A hot, sexy cowboy, handcuffed in her bed. At least, this was her bed when camp was open. Every woman’s dream. Except for her. Seeing as how she’d just kidnapped the brother of the very man who held her camp’s future in his hands this fell more into the nightmare you want to wake up from category.
“You gonna stand there and stare at me all night or you gonna try and get some sleep?”
She felt a rush of warmth surge up her neck. “I…I wasn’t staring at you.”
He flashed her that bone-melting grin of his. “Okay, ogling me. I was trying to be polite.”
“In your dreams!” With a huff of indignation, she walked around the bed and settled onto the opposite side of the mattress, as close to the edge as she could get without falling off.
The mattress shifted beneath her as Dalton rolled onto his side to look at her. His movement was followed by a metallic click. “What the…”
She looked over just as Dalton raised his arm, a now empty cuff dangling from his other cuffed wrist.
His blue eyes rounded and then swung up to latch onto hers.
With a gasp, Caitlin shot upright. The giant was free.
“These are play handcuffs?” Dalton muttered in disbelief as he dangled the metal restraints in the air between them.
“There’s a difference?”
He bit back a curse and replied through clenched teeth, “A big one.”
She sat staring up at them in stunned silence.
He sat up and worked the other one open. “You see, play handcuffs have release latches on them in case the key somehow gets lost.”
“Oh,” she replied, her plump pink lips forming a perfect “o”. Then she drew in her bottom lip, nibbling on it anxiously.
Dalton bit back a groan. Did she have to look so damn sexy while he was considering strangling her pretty little neck?
“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” His own lips thinned in irritation as he leaned toward her. “I’ve just spent several long, very uncomfortable hours trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and the only thing you can come up with is ‘oh’!”
She scooted away, attempting to put more distance between them, but only succeeded in teetering at the edge of the not-so-firm mattress.
“Caitlin!” he called out as she went over. He dove for her across the bed, but it was too late. Momentum and the current weakened state of his arm had him following right behind.
Air whooshed from her lungs as she landed on the hardwood floor below.
Instinctively, Dalton drew up a knee to keep from crushing her beneath his much larger frame, effectively breaking his fall. His pained grunt followed, echoing in the tiny room.
“Dalton?” She gasped as he braced himself above her. “Are you all right?”
&
nbsp; Being around this woman was proving to be more hazardous to his health than bull riding ever was. “I’m fine,” he lied, even as his knee throbbed in protest.
“Thank goodness.”
“The question is are you okay?” he asked, looking down at her with concern. “That was quite a spill you took.”
“I…I’m fine.” Her gaze centered on his mouth. Then, she did the most torturous thing she could have done to a man whose lower torso was pressed against hers and whose mouth was just a few scant inches from those fleshy, pink lips. She ran her tongue across her lips to wet them.
And he thought super glue got hard fast. Biting back a curse, he scrambled to his feet, no longer bothered by the pain in his knee. That ache had moved north.
Shifting his stance to hide the evidence of his desire, he held out his hand. “What do you say we try this again? Getting some sleep, that is.”
As if sleep was a possibility for him at that point.
She nodded her reply, taking the hand he offered.
He pulled her to her feet, expending very little effort in doing so. She was a tiny thing, probably lived on things like lettuce and carrots. Foods he carefully avoided, being more of a meat and potatoes kind of guy.
His gaze took in her slender form. Someone needed to teach this woman how to eat. “Remind me to take you out to dinner when we get back to town.”
“Are you asking me out?”
He nodded. “Reckon you could call it that. You aren’t married, are you?”
She laughed as she reached down to dust herself off. “Hardly.”
That soft laughter drifted through him, warming him from the inside out. “Glad to hear it.”
“I know you didn’t hit your head when you fell a minute ago, so this has to be an old rodeo head injury making you say something so crazy.”
“Wanting to take you out to eat is crazy?”
“It is when I’m your kidnapper,” she replied. “Or have you forgotten?”
He gave a husky laugh. “Not anymore.” He waved his free wrists in front of her. “Now, mind you, I suffered more than a few concussions over the years, but nothing permanent I assure you. I’m just a man who knows what he wants and goes after it.”
She propped a hand on her hip and eyed him suspiciously. “And you want me?”
“It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me or anything,” he quickly clarified. “That’s the last thing a man like myself would ever consider, but I gotta eat. No since doing it alone.” He moved around the bed to the side he’d been sitting on before they’d taken their tumble.
A slender brow arched as she sat watching him. “A man like you?”
“The kind who likes to live footloose and fancy free, experience the world without any confining ties to hold him back.”
“Oh, you mean the kind of man who’s afraid to put down roots?”
His expression darkened as he sank back against the sofa cushion. “My decision not to marry has nothing to do with fear.” And everything. He was determined not to end up like his father had. A man who chose wealth over family.
“Are you sure about that?” she prodded as if he were lying on the patient sofa in a therapist’s office.
Come to think of it, he was lying on a sofa, one that was now a bed, and she was a therapist. Pushing that thought aside, he said, “You’re reading too much into this. I just like my life the way it is. Being able to pick up and go whenever I feel like it.”
“Then why ask me out?”
That was a good question. One he wasn’t certain he knew the answer to. “Because I…like you?”
She groaned.
“What?”
“I was afraid you might say that. You don’t really like me.”
“I don’t?”
“No. You just think you do, because you’re experiencing Stockholm syndrome.”
He looked at her, arched a brow, and then grinned. “Okay, this time in English, without the fancy psychological mumbo jumbo.”
“Sorry. What I’m trying to say is that this is one of those cases where the captive – being you - finds himself falling for his captor. That being me.”
“Is that so?” he replied, laughter rumbling in his chest.
She gave a determined nod.
“Well, darlin’, let me be the first to tell you that the only falling I’ve done here tonight was onto the floor. So your Stockwhoever theory is way off base.”
She pushed an auburn strand from her face and sighed in relief. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.”
“You are?” Why did that bother him?
“Yes. I’ve got more important issues to deal with at the moment than trying to make you realize you’re not really attracted to me.”
She was plenty wrong there. He was attracted to her, but it wasn’t because of some psychological babble. Caitlin was unlike any woman he had ever met. Then again, he had never crossed paths with a real live kidnapper before. Especially one so unintentionally sexy.
“Kidnappers do eat, don’t they?” he asked, his grin edging up further.
“I’m not a kidnapper,” she said tiredly. “I merely borrowed you by mistake. It should’ve been your brother I brought here tonight.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t.”
She looked up at him in surprise. “What?”
“If it had been him you ‘borrowed’ tonight, you would have ruined any chance you had of saving this place.”
“I had to take the risk,” she said, her green eyes misting over. “Stoney Brook is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a home, to feeling like I belong somewhere. And those troubled kids are like my family. I couldn’t give it up without a fight.”
“So you became a borrower?” he said, hoping to lighten the mood. Smiles were a hell of a lot easier to deal with than tears when it came to women.
“I guess so.”
“Hmm…I don’t recall any law against doing that, so I reckon you’re in luck. And, since I was an innocent victim of your borrowing plan, I’d say the least you can do is agree to have dinner with me.”
Caitlin hesitated in giving him a reply. Dalton Barnes was a dangerous distraction for any woman and Stoney Brook had to remain first and foremost on her mind right now. Only this sexy cowboy’s being there was making that almost impossible task.
“One dinner,” he prompted.
One dinner. That was all he was asking for. And she did owe him after all she’d put him through that night. “All right, I accept.”
“Good,” came his husky reply. “Now that we have that settled, come to bed.”
“Dinner is all I agreed to,” she reminded him, her cheeks warming. “Not sleeping with you.”
The corners of his blue eyes creased in amusement. “Darlin’, after the night I’ve had, I wouldn’t even have the energy to—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” she said, cutting him off.
“Disappointed?” he teased, folding his arms behind his head.
Yes. “No!” It irked her to no end that he was right, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. “Contrary to what you may believe, not every woman you flash those baby blues at wants to jump into bed with you.”
Just then, something slammed into the wall outside. The window shattered, sending glass shards everywhere. With a terrified shriek, Caitlin jumped onto the bed with Dalton.
He wrapped his arms around her in a protective gesture, a slow grin moving over his face. “What was that you were saying about jumping into bed with me?”
“Someone’s busting into the cabin and you’re thinking about sex!” she whispered in a panic as she clung to him, wintry air and large icy flakes gusting into the tiny room.
“Yep,” he muttered. “But then I’m not afraid of trees.”
“Trees?” she mouthed and then turned to see a long, jagged, ice-covered branch protruding through the broken window. The fire in the hearth snapped and hissed as more icy wind swept in through the broken window.
&nb
sp; Releasing her, he stood and shrugged back into his leather jacket.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna fix the window best I can. Seems we’re gonna be needing that saw you mentioned after all. And, if you can scrounge up a hammer and a few nails while you’re at it, that’s be great.”
Nodding, she shot to her feet and raced to the oversized utility drawer. Yanking it open, she rummaged through the items inside until she found the items he needed. Then she hurried over to him. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He set the hammer and nails on a nearby table and then raised the collar of his jacket as he made his way to the cabin’s front door. He opened it, the action sending a swirl of snow gusting into the cabin. He glanced her way. “Keep an eye on the fire while I’m gone.”
She nodded her reply as she reached for her coat, pulling it on with a shudder. The temperature in the tiny cabin room was dropping fast. “I’ll go grab the broom and get this glass cleaned up.”
“Whatever you do,” he added, “stay away from the other windows. The trees around here are old. The wind could easily bring another one down.”
“Be careful,” she called out as he closed the door behind him.
Shivering, she hurried over to the wood box and grabbed another log for the fire, hoping to ease the icy chill that now filled the room. Then she went to get the broom and dustpan.
Once she had cleaned up as much of the glass as possible, she turned to stare at the gnarled limb protruding into the tiny cabin. This was all they needed.
The rhythmic sound of the handsaw carried into the cabin as Dalton worked to remove the fallen branch. After what seemed like forever, it cracked loudly and fell, clattering across the snow-coated floor below.
A second later, the cabin door swung open with another blast of icy air as Dalton stepped inside. He was covered from head to toe in thick, white flakes. “Damn, it’s cold out there.”
She put a hand to her mouth to muffle her snort of laughter.
“Something funny?”
“Yes. You look like the Abominable Snowman.” But so much sexier, she was tempted to add.
He shouldered the door shut. “Well, I feel like the Abominable Ice Cube.” He turned and stomped the excess snow from his boots.
KIDNAPPED COWBOY Page 5
