Another growl started low in his throat. What the hell was he doing? She was only acting—playing a role. That’s what they were both supposed to be doing. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when he stopped pretending, but it was probably around the time Diego had threatened her, and she’d reacted with a serene indifference. Nate had been furious, fully intending to rip the guy’s head off, and all because Diego had been stupid enough to threaten Alex—his Alex.
That kind of thinking was bound to get him in trouble. He released her as she grabbed a bottle of Riesling and a Merlot and set them in their cart.
She placed a hand on his arm like a dutiful wife. “We’ve got coffee, bacon and eggs for breakfast, bread and lunchmeat for sandwiches, chips, fruit, hot dogs and buns, frozen pizza. What else do we need?”
Nate thought for a second. “Beer. Bottled water. Mustard . . . and cookies.”
The sparkle in her eyes teased him.
“What? I like cookies. I also need some fishing line and bait.”
“Do you think we could get some marshmallows?” Alex averted her eyes.
The last word was spoken so softly, Nate almost didn’t catch it. “Marshmallows?” He raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“Laugh if you must, but I’ve never had marshmallows before. They go with camping, right?”
Sometimes he forgot she’d been denied a childhood. She’d missed so many things he’d taken for granted. The undeniable urge to give some of them back to her overwhelmed him. “Okay, we’re getting marshmallows . . . but the marshmallow experience isn’t complete without s’mores, so we also need graham crackers and chocolate bars.”
Her brown eyes sparkled with an enthusiastic smile that transformed her face and tugged at something deep within him.
They rounded up the rest of the items they needed, paid for them, and carried four large bags of supplies to the motor home. It was nearly eight o’clock, and Nate wasn’t looking forward to the fifteen miles they’d have to drive to reach Patagonia Lake. He consoled himself with the knowledge that after they parked in a camping spot, they could defer their setup until morning if they chose and just fall into bed. Or maybe they would have another glass of wine and finish their talk. Yeah, that sounded good.
Once they were on the road, Nate dialed Joe’s number and relayed their current position. “Alex and I had dinner at a place called Manuel’s. You’ll never guess who owns it—Diego Vasquez.”
The rumble of the Jeep was background for Joe’s voice. “Well, well. Small world. Did he see you?”
“I’m afraid so. Alex made quite an impression on him. I think he threatened to take her off my hands if he got the chance.” Nate winked at Alex when she frowned.
“Yeah? I’m not surprised. Everybody loves Alex. Do you think he made you?”
“I don’t see how he could have.”
“Maybe we can work his fascination with Alex to our advantage. I’ll know more tomorrow.”
Nate’s gut swirled with dread at the prospect of using Alex as bait. Joe knew her capabilities better than he did, but still, dangling her in front of that creep didn’t sit well.
“You and Jim have any problems?” Nate flipped on his blinker and made a right-hand turn onto a narrow, paved road that immediately changed to ruts and potholes. A sign announcing Patagonia Lake shimmered as the headlights swept across it.
“Nope. Not a hitch. We crossed the border about an hour ago and had a look around. Now we’re heading for my friend’s place. I’ll call tomorrow after I contact Diego.” Joe paused for a second. “Nate, keep an eye on her.”
Nate swore under his breath when the motor home hit a bad rut and nearly jerked the steering wheel from his hand. “Will do.” He ended the call and dropped the cell phone in his shirt pocket, gripping the wheel with both hands.
The road to the lake was rough and deserted. In the dark, it took all of his concentration to keep the RV out of the yawning craters that lined their route. As though the constant jostling wasn’t enough to occupy his attention, he couldn’t get his mind off Joe’s comment and the absurd idea of using Alex to get to Diego.
The depths of his dark mood became apparent when one of the wheels of the motor home dropped to its driveline in a hole and a stream of vicious four-letter words flew from his mouth. He stepped on the gas and the lumbering coach righted itself and kept going. When he turned toward Alex to apologize, she nodded somberly and looked quickly away.
Nate stopped at the kiosk leading into the park and paid in advance for three nights, then picked a secluded spot within sight of the lake, but far removed from the store and marina. As he turned to get out of his seat, he caught a troubled glance from Alex. She hastily averted her gaze, but she wasn’t quick enough to hide her apprehension, and he puzzled over the possible cause. He’d been withdrawn on the drive out here, tired and intent on keeping them from breaking an axle. Smart lady that she was, it was hard to believe that would cause her any concern. Was there something else going on in her head?
They’d both been quiet since he talked to Joe. Maybe she’d picked up on his frustration with Joe’s plan. He’d been right not to mention it to her. Chances were, nothing would come of it, and there was no sense in worrying her needlessly.
As soon as they were settled, he’d find out what he’d done to bring about this change in her . . . and change it back. He wanted the Alex who argued, and laughed, and pressed into his kiss. Now that they were alone, they could drop the act, but that wasn’t his first choice. A split second of self-reproach slid across his consciousness before he pushed it away.
“I’ll go level this beast.” He reached to stroke her arm as though it were the natural thing to do and regretted it when she flinched.
She recovered quickly and trailed her fingers lightly down his forearm. “I’ll straighten up in here.”
He stepped out of the RV and paced back and forth the length of it. What had reawakened the fear he’d seen in her eyes just now? If he could find the scum who’d kidnapped her as a child and done unspeakable things to her, he’d make her killing spree look tame. He stopped abruptly when the truth finally hit him.
She was afraid of him. Damn! He was the one who’d been kissing and hugging on her all evening like it was his right. She had no say in it—it was for the mission. It was for Marco—that’s what he’d told her. God, what a jerk he’d been. Nate had exercised his authority and given no thought to how being manhandled, as she called it, would stir old memories within her.
He was attracted to her. Had been since day one, but that was no excuse for letting his libido run wild with ideas of seducing her as soon as they were alone, plying her with more wine until her defenses were down. Okay, he hadn’t done that on purpose, but the result was the same.
Goddamn it! Had he really stooped so low?
Nate stalked around the outside of the motor home until he got the worst of his self-loathing out of his system. In the process, he hooked up the lights and water and managed to get the RV leveled. When he couldn’t stall any longer, he forced the frown from his face before he opened the door and climbed the steps.
Alex sat cross-legged on the sofa, her long, silky tresses cascading over her shoulders. She’d changed into a short red T-shirt and charcoal gray running shorts. Her shy smile was tinged with uncertainty.
His breath caught. He should go sleep in the desert—now. He could tell her he was scouting out the area—standing guard—anything. Why did he want this woman so damn bad? He ached to reach out, brush the loose tendrils behind her ear, and plant a kiss there, then run the tip of his tongue over her ear and hear her soft moan. He caught himself before he stepped closer. Shit! He was pathetic.
Stereotypically poor lighting cast shadows on the inside of the motor home. She’d been busy. The groceries and fishing gear were all neatly stowed out of sight, and the bed in the back was s
pread with the two sleeping bags he’d brought. The sight drew a groan from him.
Alex unfolded her legs, stood, and padded on bare feet to the small counter by the sink where the bottle of Merlot sat, already open. She poured some in two of the paper cups they’d purchased at the last minute, and her eyes gleamed triumphantly when she twirled and held one out to him.
“I’ve never used a corkscrew before.” She cocked her head to the side. “It was a trial, but I persevered.”
Refuse it. Just what I don’t need—another glass of wine! He reached for the cup. “Good job, and I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“Thanks.” The sparkle in her eyes made him dizzy.
What in the hell am I doing? He watched with interest as she returned to the sofa, her hips swaying gently from side to side with each step. When she sat, leaving enough room for him beside her, the thread of reason he’d discovered outside deserted him completely.
“I turned the hot water heater on. I thought maybe you’d want a shower before you go to bed.” She took a sip of her wine, the Merlot staining her lips a darker red.
“That sounds great.” Cold water is what I’ll be using, though. He sat beside her.
“I know we were just pretending, but I had fun tonight. I wanted to thank you.” A hint of red appeared on her cheeks.
Disgust burned in Nate’s gut. “Fun? What part was fun for you?” Guilt spiked to an all-time high, making his tone sharper than he’d intended.
Crimson poured into her cheeks and she broke eye contact. “You know . . . pretending to be married . . . like we were on a date . . . or something . . .”
Nate pushed to his feet, stepped to the table, and set his cup down. “Listen—pretending is one thing. Kissing you and putting my hands all over you like a horny schoolboy is something else. That should never have happened. I apologize, and it won’t happen again.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, flayed by the stricken expression she turned on him. “You need to know you can trust me and that you don’t have to do anything for me, or this mission, that you’re not comfortable with.”
Alex bit her lip and it was obvious she struggled with her emotions for a few seconds. When she finally met his gaze, anger shimmered in her eyes. It contrasted sharply with her sad smile.
“Did you really think I would?” The words dripped with despair and shame. “Of course you did, because that’s what I grew up doing—anything and everything I was told to do, no matter how evil or disgusting. That’s all I know, right? I couldn’t possibly have a mind of my own. I’m not stupid. I know what you think of me—what you see when you look at me.” Her voice broke. “I thought you were different. Thanks for the reality check, Nate.” She rose and dumped the rest of her wine down the sink.
Nate took a step toward her. “No. I didn’t . . .”
“Don’t. Don’t touch me, and I don’t want to talk to you anymore tonight either.” She sidestepped him, strode to the back of the RV, and crawled into one of the sleeping bags on the bed, pulling it over her head.
Way to go, asshole! So much for trying to do the right thing, but none of what she said was true. He didn’t believe for a minute she would give up anything if it wasn’t her idea. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that she did her own thinking. That’s what he liked about her. Too bad he’d let his guilt over wanting her and taking liberties he hadn’t earned fill his mouth with words that had obviously struck a nerve.
Nate grabbed the edge of the countertop and gave the fixture a shove. He’d been operating under the assumption she was firmly entrenched in the role of his wife. That what had passed between them, at least for her part, had been required—even demanded—by his prerequisites for allowing her to come. What if she hadn’t been pretending either? What if she had enjoyed the evening simply because they’d had fun getting to know each other? His suggestion that she would blindly follow any orders he gave her—even to jump in the sack with him—was way out of line, and it wouldn’t be easily forgiven. He glanced toward the bed and scowled. Rage washed over him at the atrocities she’d suffered that left her believing he thought her unworthy of his respect.
He’d give her a few minutes, and then they’d talk it out. At the very least, they still needed to work together until Marco was freed, and they might still have to pose as a married couple. He wasn’t worried about that. She’d do what was required for the mission. His attitude needed some work, however.
He followed her path to the rear of the motor home, pulled some clean sweats and a T-shirt from his duffel, and closed himself in the tiny bathroom. He wouldn’t need that cold shower now. He’d managed to douse them both with ice water.
Alex wasn’t on the bed when he came out of the bathroom a few minutes later—gone, along with her sleeping bag. His heart raced with images of her sacked out in the desert somewhere, freezing, until he heard a soft moan from the general direction of the sofa and made out the bulky sleeping bag wedged against the cushions. She’d apparently meant every word when she said she didn’t want to see or talk to him. There’d be no opportunity to make it right tonight.
He watched her for a few seconds, debating if he should wake her and insist she sleep on the bed and let him take the sofa. Leave it alone. He’d have his chance to speak his mind tomorrow. She was sleeping peacefully, which, according to her, was rare. No sense waking her now.
Nate crawled on top of the remaining sleeping bag and turned on his side. The silence was heavy, like his mood. He was used to loneliness, but it was more acute tonight for some reason. No mystery there. He’d enjoyed spending time with Alex . . . had started to feel a connection. Then he’d opened his mouth and insulted her hard-won sense of worth. If only he could take those words back.
No sense rehashing it. Go to sleep. He rolled to his right side, inhaled deeply, and forced his eyes shut.
He was just dropping off to sleep when an ear-splitting scream brought him to his feet, gun in hand. It had to be some kind of an animal, caught in a trap. It took him a second to realize the gut-wrenching sound came from inside the RV.
Alex thrashed and flailed beneath the sleeping bag, finally dropping onto the floor just as Nate reached her. She clipped his jaw with one well-manicured fist before he managed to corral her arms and shove her against the bottom of the sofa.
“Alex? Wake up, Alex.” He spoke softly, but insistently, and finally her eyes cracked open and then filled with surprise or anguish—he wasn’t sure which.
A shudder racked her body, and she tried to pry his hands loose. “Let go of me . . . please.”
Nate shook his head, stood abruptly, and lifted her, sleeping bag and all, into his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently. “We’re a team, Alex, whether you like it or not. What d’ya say we work together from now on?”
Chapter 6
ALEX’S FIRST INSTINCT was to fight against the muscled arms that looped around her like bands of steel. She had a vague sense of Nate’s protective presence, but the apparition from her dream still followed her, his lips close to her ear. Kill him, Alexandria. What are you waiting for?
No! Hu Sun had held her captive for years, tormenting every waking moment. Though she was free now, he’d found a way to inhabit her nightmares and made it impossible for her to forget the atrocious crimes she’d committed.
He wasn’t really there. It was Nate’s chest she pounded against, and it was Nate who, in spite of her pummeling fists, merely cradled her closer.
She made a conscious effort to lock Hu Sun’s voice back in the recesses of her mind, where he awaited her moments of weakness and fear. She wouldn’t listen to him—not ever again. A sob escaped her. Who was she kidding? Hu Sun would come again . . . as soon as she fell asleep. But she slept so little these days; sometimes he even came when she was awake.
The only thing that seemed to keep him at bay was
Nate’s presence. She’d scoffed at his offer to keep her nightmares away, but his tender touch had shielded her from the ugliness within and drew her back to a place of safety.
He laid her gently beside his sleeping bag and shifted to the other side of the bed. His sudden absence chilled her like an evening mist. Shivering, she burrowed into her sleeping bag, wrapping her arms around her stomach to stop her shaking. Then Nate was half inside the bag with her and pulled her into his arms.
“You’re okay now. No more nightmares.” He coaxed her head down on his chest and gently traced an oval pattern on her back. Warmth settled wherever he touched.
Common sense warred with the strange sensation that she’d finally come home. She was breaking all of the rules she’d ever made and that scared her to death, but she didn’t have the strength, or the will, to turn away from his comfort and protection. What would happen if she didn’t bolt this time—if she stayed right there in his arms?
She cuddled closer, no longer concerned with protecting him from her brand of insanity, or protecting herself. He hadn’t meant to hurt her earlier. It wasn’t his fault she was sullied and ruined. The fact that he was still there said it all. Maybe she needed him . . . just a little. Her throat constricted. What was happening to her? It was a bad idea to need people. They always let you down.
Tears came unexpectedly, and she tried to choke them back. She’d cried plenty all those years in captivity . . . but never for herself. Now she couldn’t seem to stop. The floodgates were breached. She sobbed, tears running down her face and spilling onto the sleeping bag, the bed, and Nate’s shirt.
He held her until she cried herself out, and then she continued to lie in his sheltering arms as she sniffled and hiccupped. All the while, Nate caressed her, kissed the top of her head, and whispered words of comfort. He grew quiet as she did, and after a few minutes of silence, she peeked from under her lashes to find him watching her.
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