Captive Heart (5 page)

Day picked up Rollie’s SIG, which was loose in her hand, and pointed it at the semi-conscious man. He should shoot. Never leave an enemy behind you. Something stopped him, though.

“Gah.” Disgusted with himself, he tucked the pistol into the back of his jeans and bent down to pick her up.

It took only minutes to bundle the unconscious woman into the passenger seat of the truck hidden in the dilapidated shed, and then Day was gunning the engine, crashing through the rotten main doors, and throwing the truck down the dirt trail as fast as he could.

Shots rang out behind them, but he kept going, watching the gauges on his dashboard. Last thing he needed was for a bullet to have nicked the gas line or worse, a brake line. But everything seemed to be in working order, and before long, he was sliding the truck out sideways onto the highway.

Two hours later, he was still on the road, constantly scanning the view in his mirror. No one appeared to be following them. He sighed and slowed a little, rubbing the back of his neck in exhaustion. They were going to need to stop for gas soon, and he needed to check Rollie out.

His gaze slid sideways, running over her profile as she lay in the passenger seat. She had stirred a couple of times, and her breathing was nice and regular, so he didn’t think she was badly injured. A quick examination of the rapidly darkening bruise had alleviated some of Day’s concerns. Probably just a concussion. Ordinarily, he’d have taken her to a hospital, but if their pursuers caught up with them, a concussion would be the least of her worries.

His eyes watered, burning with tiredness as he tried to blink them clear. Okay, forget the gas; he needed to stop for a while. Just a power nap. Fifteen minutes, tops, and he’d be good to go. Exhaustion pulled at every muscle in his body as he turned the battered truck off the road at the next rest stop, heading to park up behind the service buildings so he could shut his eyes for a few minutes.

There was someone in the room with him, his sleep muffled senses told him. Someone not only in the room but also close to him. Well within striking range. His eyes opened on the dimly lit room, a frown already forming on his face. He never slept with a light on, preferring the sanctity of darkness. And that wasn’t all that was wrong. His gaze collided with that of the woman standing at the side of the bed, looking down at him.

He swallowed, struggling to sit up. Black lingerie. The
raciest
black lingerie he’d ever seen. Breasts barely contained in black lace, threatening to burst free with every breath, coupled with stockings, garters, and the tiniest scrap of lace at the vee of her thighs.

His eyes widened. He was unable to stop his gaze as it traveled down mile-long legs encased in black silk. And stilettos. He groaned. Killer stilettos that did things to her legs that were—had to be—illegal. Arousal, instant and demanding, hit him like a truck at mach one, his body at instant attention.

Rich brown hair shone under the soft lighting of the room, curling in waves across her silky shoulders. Hair his hands just itched to bury themselves in, but tightened on the sheets instead. The soft chocolate tresses shrouded one side of her face in a manner that made her seem more mysterious and bewitching. Her skin seemed to glow and looked smoother and softer than satin pillows. Her makeup was subtle but brought out her best features, bringing attention to her eyes. Always a reflection of intelligence and wit, they now sparkled with a dangerous, sensual intent.

Her lips, normally twisted in a smirk or a frown, were now full and pouty, accented by the dark scarlet lipstick, parted slightly with every breath she took. A subtle half smile had him doing a double take to make sure she was really smiling, or if he was imagining things. The perfume she wore was musky and dark, utterly sensual and feminine in all aspects, perfect for how she looked tonight.

All in all, the woman that was looking down at Day like a jungle cat eyeing a piece of meat was far from the smart talking, rational, brilliant scientist Day knew. No, he was face-to-face with a sex goddess.

She reached over and slowly dragged a fingernail down his chest, scraping his skin lightly, leaving a trail of heat and cold in its wake.

“Hi.” Her voice was low and husky, oozing sex. That simple greeting that had stood the test of time and had never been considered sexy, now made him think semi-obscene thoughts.

Torment, fascination and deep, dark need coursed through him as she reached down again. Stunned, he watched her hand, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t dare move. Was this for real? Where had the shrew-like scientist gone? Hell, she was hiding
that
body under the lab coat. His throat dried up as she trailed a fingernail over his chest again. He shuddered, goose flesh pimpling across his naked skin as she drew lazy circles on his chest.

His eyes snapped open as his hand moved like lightening to capture hers. “Don’t…unless you’re prepared for the consequences,” he threatened, his voice husky with repressed desire.

The subtle half smile turned teasing and her eyes narrowed into a calculating gaze. She didn’t say anything for a moment. In fact, she just looked at him, dragging her gaze up and down the length of his body. Her gaze connected with his again, and she tilted her head coyly to one side.

“What would those consequences be?” she asked him before she teasingly bit her lip.

Things weren’t making sense, but Day ignored that fact, all his attention concentrated on her. “Tease,” he told her, closing his eyes for a moment to try and get a hold of himself. This couldn’t be happening. This didn’t happen to him. He looked at her again. Yep, still in the racy underwear, that sexy look in her eyes.

“I’m so going to hell.” His thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist gently as he locked his eyes with hers, letting her read the need in them. She didn’t pull away as he drew her closer, pulling her down toward him on the bed.

She went with him, slowly lowering herself to straddle his hips. Through the sheet, her moist softness cushioned his hardness.

“Mmm...” she moaned as she closed her eyes. “That feels good.”

A shiver ran through his entire body, his eyes closing helplessly. His arms closed around her, across the back of her hips, holding her in place against him. “Don’t…move,” he ordered, his tone strangled as he snaked one hand up to bury in her hair.

She opened her eyes and looked down at him again. She ran her hands over his chest, her fingers going slowly over every bump and indentation as if memorizing it by feel. Then without warning, she leaned down and began a slow trail of soft, airy kisses from his chest to his neck. When she got there, she gave him a quick nip before whispering in his ear. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here...all night long.”

He sat up with her in his lap, pulling her head back to expose the long line of her throat. “Good, because this is going to take a while,” he promised, crushing her to him, his lips on the curve of her shoulder.

She arched her neck, offering herself to him. A symbol of vulnerability and submission.

She ran her fingers through his hair as the rest of her body aligned itself with his. Her knees dug deeper into the sheets, pressing herself more firmly against his aching hardness. Her breasts flattened into the brick wall that was his chest. Their bodies were like two pieces of a puzzle, falling into place perfectly.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” she murmured. “I like being…thorough.”

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through his body to hers where she touched him. “Oh, I can be very thorough,” he promised as he kissed a trail along the skin of her throat. He closed his eyes as he reached her jaw, breathing her delicate scent in as need made his body tremble. Finally, he reached her lips, his hand sliding through her hair as he claimed her mouth.

Even to him, his kisses felt intense, like water breaking through a dam. He explored every inch of her mouth with his tongue, and she let him. She played with him with her own tongue and tried to catch it with her lips. Eventually, she managed and suckled on it sensuously, suggestively, as she moved her hands down his spine to the small of his back.

She laughed a little vixen laugh as she drew up for air. “I’ll take that as a promise.”

Then she kissed him, and this time she was the aggressor. She plunged her tongue deep into his mouth and wielded it like a weapon. Once in a while, she would nip his lips with a playful bite before again taking the role of the submissive and opening herself up to his sensual exploration.

Oh, Christ, he was in heaven. He chased her lips with his own, hands moving to cradle her head. With an arm across the back of her hips, he eased her down onto the bed. His powerful body covering hers, he kissed her with everything he had, his soul laid bare as he stroked the hair back from her face gently. For all his bluster and bravado, he hadn’t seriously believed he had half a chance with her. She was too smart, too beautiful to look at an ex-soldier like him. But now that she’d fallen into his lap, literally, he wasn’t letting her go. Not a hope in hell.

Now, as he turned gentler, her kisses turned from hot and torrid to slow and wet; each kiss driving strong emotions surrounded by a swirling cloud of passion and lust. Her touches explored and praised. Her moans were encouraging and needy. The look in her eyes when she opened them was adoring and pleading. She wanted him, and she was waiting for him.

Triumph, and an answering all-consuming need swept through him as his hand stroked, explored. Swept up her ribcage, his thumb stroking the curve at the underside of her breast. “Much as I like this, I think it needs to come off now, sweetheart,” he murmured, reaching between her full breasts to play with the tiny clip that held the bra together.

He looked deep into her eyes as he traced its outline, easing a finger under the clasp. Then, after a torturously long moment, he pressed the clasp, and the fabric fell away.

Then he looked down at her body and was lost, the easy compliment that rose automatically drying up. “Hell… You’re perfect,” he murmured, mentally kicking himself.
Yeah, Day, real smooth. Do something before she kicks your ass out of bed!

He lifted his hand, tracing the outline of her lips with a finger. His body tightened, hard and aching, as she nipped his finger, taking it into her mouth to suckle gently. He almost lost control and his train of thought there and then. Leaning down, he replaced his fingers with his lips, taking her mouth in a hard, controlling kiss, a perfect counterpoint as he smoothed his hand gently over the swell of her breast, his wet fingers rolling against her rapidly beading nipple.

She purred in need, moaning into his mouth as he began to play with her nipple. She clasped her hands on his sides and moved her knees up to press into his hips. Her legs stroked against his.

“You’re a bad man,” she managed between breaths against his lips.

He smiled, his fingers sliding down to flick the snap of her garters. His hand shook slightly as he did so, betraying that he was near to the edge of his control.

“I am,” he whispered back between kisses. “And about to do very bad things to you.” His hand smoothed over her legs, a knee between her thighs as he lifted himself over her. “You’re beautiful.” He stroked his hand up the inside of her thigh slowly enough that she could pull away if she wanted to.

She didn’t. She shivered in pleasure and anticipation. She even arched her back and lifted her hips off the bed to get closer to him.

“You’re special,” she whispered back, and as his fingers got closer and closer to their goal, she closed her eyes. “Please...”

***

Rollie woke up slowly. The pain from the hit to her head flared up, drowning her spinning world in a haze of red. She brought a hand to her forehead and winced from the tenderness of the bruise. That was going to leave a mark. She remembered now, and the pain and disorientation hit her even worse. She had been careless. Fear made her so, and the last thing she’d seen was the rifle butt.

When she’d gotten out of bed this morning, she hadn’t been expecting to achieve a significant scientific breakthrough, a feat that would change the world hopefully for the better. But neither had she expected to be kidnapped, dragged through the woods, shot at by goons, or to lose her best friend, the woman she considered to be the closest thing she had to a mother.

What had she done wrong? What had she done to deserve this? All she wanted was to help change the world, to save mankind by saving the planet. Ever since she had been old enough to understand that if she wanted to survive in this world she had to fend for herself, she had tried to live as normally as she possibly could.

It hadn’t been easy for a young girl, barely in her teens, who had to survive in the harsh reality of life on the streets. She had been tempted to follow the other street kids and live the life they did, but she didn’t think the same way. She knew she’d end up just like them, either dead in a ditch with two bullets in the head or, given her looks, living the rest of her life as a crack whore.

So she used her smarts. By day, she’d put herself through school and got past the system by faking a pair of parents who didn’t exist. She had left virtually no time for her social activities, focusing on maintaining her grades and working to achieve a scholarship. By night, she pretended to be a boy and worked odd jobs. When she was old enough she started working at the bars as a waitress then learned the trade, became a bartender. She graduated at the top of her class at Carnegie Mellon and, shortly after, everything was history.

But while she had succeeded in getting out of the gutter all by herself, she still envied the other kids at school. While they didn’t receive awards, they had parents, families, and significant others who shared their joy with them while the poor, smart girl had to make an excuse that her parents were in an archaeological dig somewhere and couldn’t make it.

Friends were all she had left. The ones she had made growing up were either dead, dying, or in jail. Some of her college friends now had successful careers of their own, while some had become enemies when pride settled in. Boys, and then men, had tried to claim her heart, but seemed more tempted with her body, and then her money and fame; all but shallow opportunists. In the end, there were only a handful of people that were truly there for her.

Marie had been the most steadfast. Rollie had wanted to believe she’d always be there for her, but now she, too, had been taken away. Just like everything and everyone else. She didn’t realize that tears were streaming down her cheeks, not until she felt a drop fall onto her hand. She finally broke down, the tears falling in earnest.

Day woke with a start. Eyes unfocused for a moment, he looked up at the tattered roof lining of the truck.
Shit. It had been a dream
. He closed his eyes again, hoping beyond hope to be able to slide back into it, but a soft sound in the truck stopped him, brought him back to full wakefulness. It was the sound of someone…crying?

Opening his eyes again, he turned his head to see Rollie curled up in a small ball in the passenger seat, her shoulders heaving as she sobbed. Deep, heart-rending sobs. Day moved without thinking, and in the next instant, she was in his arms, tucked under his chin and half across his lap as he stroked her back. “Hey… Hey, it’s okay. We got out.”