Cowboy & the Captive (6 page)

“I’ve showered, dressed and I’ve met you in the kitchen,” she finally said with careful control. “Now where’s my baby?”

Irritation flashed in his stormy gray eyes. It was obvious that there was something about her and her cat that he didn’t like. Of course, it could just be Maria he hated, she thought with morbid amusement, which didn’t bode well for her considering he thought she was Maria.

“How anyone can call that fat-assed black ball of fur a baby is beyond me,” he growled. “That animal should be put down for its temper alone.”

Melina’s eyes widened in sudden fear at the sincere dislike in his tone and the implied threat to kill the little animal. Her baby. He thought Mason should be killed. And Mason did not have a temper. He was just a little spoiled, that was all. That was no excuse to be mean to him.

“You hurt Mason and I promise you, I’ll make what Maria did to you look like a day at the park,” she warned him, completely serious now.

He could punish her all he liked, and in a way she could even make some sort of twisted sense of it. But he wasn’t going to hurt Mason. She had enough of Maria’s thoughtless actions impacting her life in such painful ways. She blamed herself. She had allowed the trend to continue as they got older, but no more. She would not lose anything else due to her sister’s selfishness and utter cruelty.

He crossed his arms over his chest. She was growing to heartily dislike that action. He was still frowning at her, the low cast of his brows giving his expression a dangerous appearance. Melina fought back her fear as she met his gaze silently.

“You’re in no position to be giving out threats here, sugarplum,” he told her softly, his voice almost too gentle to suit her. It reminded her of the eye of a violent storm. She would have been more frightened if it weren’t for the fact that she was hopelessly in love with that stupid cat. Even she didn’t understand it.

“Listen, Mister, I understand you think you have a problem with me. Really, I do,” she assured him sincerely. “I can even, almost, understand the mistake you’re making. But if you harm so much as a hair on Mason’s body, then I promise, you’re going to regret it. That’s my cat. He adopted me when no one else wanted me and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you mistreat him.”

“Baby, maybe more people would want you if you toed the line a little bit closer. You know. Give a little, get a little?” he suggested mockingly.

Melina flinched painfully at the cruel words. Give a little, get a little. She would have laughed at the thought if it weren’t so ironic. She had given everything she had for so many years…for nothing. All she had to show for it was a black cat that deigned to curl in her lap and shed on her whenever she became weak enough to cry. But the warmth of his fat little body and his soft purrs had kept her sane through the aftermath of her nightmares.

“I’m sure you think your opinion of me should matter,” she said reasonably, stilling the furious words that rose to her lips instead. “I’ll even pretend it does for as long as I have to. But not as long as my cat is in that barn suffering.”

If she could go to jail for Maria, then she could stand up to one temperamental cowboy for her baby. She could think of few things as horrible as that week she had spent in jail for her sister.

“At least he’s alive,” he grunted hatefully. “Have I mentioned I hate cats?”

Melina pushed back the fear rising inside her. Maria had nearly caused the death of this man as well as his friend. Killing a cat he believed was hers would be small compared to her crimes. But it was Mason. He didn’t belong to Maria. Maria couldn’t care less and she wouldn’t spend a second grieving for his loss. And she sure as hell wouldn’t care about the pain Melina would suffer without him.

She bit her lip as she fought the fear that Luc would hurt him. She looked up at him silently, swallowing in dread. She had a feeling her need for comfort from her fears might well be her downfall.

“Please,” she whispered. “I just want my cat.”

Melina saw the interest that suddenly flared in his eyes, the knowledge that the animal could be leverage against her that he might not have considered before.

“In exchange for?” he asked, confirming her worse fears. There wasn’t a lot she would say no to in her effort to save Mason.

“I already asked what you want.” She tried to still the frustration thickening her voice as she attempted to reason with a man who had already proven himself to be unreasonable. “I’m willing to cooperate as much as possible,” she said nervously. “Fine, you want to punish me for what Maria did, but don’t hurt my cat.”

If his frown could have grown darker it would have. She saw the anger that instantly flared in his gaze and knew she had just made a major tactical error.

“Admit to who you are, and we’ll talk.”

Admit to who she wasn’t. A sense of resignation overcame her. The cost of one small comfort would be once again allowing herself to be mired in Maria’s identity. She slid her hands from her jeans, linking them together, trying to still the tremors that wanted to rush through her body.

“I told you who I am,” she said as desolation washed over her. “Don’t make me lie to you. Please. Because I will, for this.”

His arms uncrossed, his thumbs catching at the front of the waistband of his jeans. She shouldn’t notice the tight, hard abs that the action displayed, or the lean, muscular hips and below, the thick bulge of his cock. She shouldn’t be wet, shouldn’t be longing for things she knew she couldn’t have.

His brow lifted mockingly. “You would lie for something so small?” he asked with sarcastic disbelief. “Don’t make this any harder on yourself than it already is,” he suggested easily. “Come on, tell me who you are and we’ll go get the cat.”

Melina drew in a tired breath.

“Catarina Angeles,” she finally said, fighting to hold her temper back now. If she let her anger free, she would never see Mason again.

He shook his head slowly, destroying any hope she had that he would, by chance, let this go. “Nope. Come on, sugarplum, full name. Admit to who you are and we’ll go get the cat. Otherwise, he takes his chances outside.”

She met his gaze directly, holding back the screams that longed to pour from her throat. “Don’t do this.”

Could she survive without Mason? She shuddered at the thought of the nightmares that were sure to come without his comforting presence. How would she hold onto her sanity without something or someone to comfort her?

“Your name,” he demanded again.

“Maria Catarina Angeles,” she whispered despondently. It wasn’t the first time she had done so, but at least this time it served her rather than someone else. “May I please have my cat now?”

* * * * *

He should have been satisfied. Luc stared at the expressionless face, the weary green eyes, and felt anything but satisfaction. He felt like a damned monster. She had spoken the words as her shoulders lowered marginally, as though the weight of the admission had placed an invisible burden on her that was too great to bear.

The admission, though given as he asked, was voiced with such a lack of emotion that it made him regret forcing the issue. And her eyes. If he had ever seen such weary resignation in a woman’s eyes, he couldn’t remember it. They darkened, turning so vulnerable, so filled with shadows and pain that something about it twisted his heart.

She had spoken the words with an automation that seemed almost…rehearsed. He tilted his head, watching, as she stood silent and cool in front of him. Her fury of earlier that morning seemed extinguished and weariness had taken its place. He felt like a complete bastard and didn’t even know why. Damn her. It wasn’t his fault she wanted to play games.

He hated cats. What in the hell possessed him to consider letting that demon into his house? He probably sheds, Luc thought in disgust. Just what he needed. But he’d be damned if he could stand that look in those dark velvet-green eyes. They were haunted, filled with an inner pain that he couldn’t quite describe. A pain he had caused.

He snarled silently, lifting his lips in self-derision as he grunted in irritation.

“Come on, let’s go get the bastard. But if he scratches me again I’ll feed him to my dogs. He’d make a hell of a snack.”

Chapter Seven

The barn was within sight of the house, but still nearly an acre separated it from the main building. Melina moved quickly behind Luc as his long legs ate up the distance. She couldn’t keep her eyes off his strongly curved ass, no matter how hard she tried, or the bunch and flex of his hard thighs beneath his jeans. He had the long-legged, gaited walk of a cowboy. That undefined, strolling strut that made a woman’s mouth water and her fingers itch to clench into all that male strength moving so temptingly before her eyes.

His buttocks were lusciously curved for a man and the low riding jeans showed them off to perfection. His back was like granite beneath the T-shirt, each muscle defined by the cloth that had been tucked into his pants. The whole picture was irritatingly sexy. She didn’t want to lust for him anymore. It was fine when he was just a distant figure she could drool over in private, but now? She snorted silently. He had to be the most aggravating, ill-tempered man she had laid eyes on in her life. But, good heavens, if he wasn’t the most delicious looking man she had ever seen.

Melina grimaced in self-disgust. The man had literally forced her into lying about who she was. He had blackmailed her with poor Mason’s helpless life, and she was lusting over him. Her cunt was weeping, not just wet, but
drooling
in hunger. Like a man starved and presented a banquet, only to be told he couldn’t partake. It wasn’t fair. It was the most unjust act of deprivation where sexuality was concerned that she could have envisioned.

Following close behind him, her head lowered, her gaze on the delicious curves of his male rear, she was completely unprepared for his abrupt stop.

“Omphf.” She smacked into his back, stumbling, her face flaming as he turned to her and shot her a frown.

“Are you okay?” His hand shot out, gripping her arm as she jumped back again and nearly fell flat on her ass. “Dammit, you can’t be on anything. I made sure there wasn’t a pill in the house before I kidnapped you.”

God, he would be perfect if he would just keep his damned mouth shut.

Jerking her arm back she flashed him a look, intending to convey the pure violence toward him that suddenly surged in her head. Too bad her body wasn’t listening.

“Moron,” she sniffed, moving around him to the open doors of the barn. “I assume this is where Mason is?”

As she spoke, a cat’s plaintive wail filled the air, causing her eyes to widen at the lost, pitiful sound. She turned, shot Luc a look that promised retribution and moved quickly into the shadowed interior.

“Mason.” She gasped in surprise at the bedraggled black ball of fur that cried out at her from a bed of straw.

He was pitiful. Dusty, his fur matted, his amazing blue eyes damp and miserable. He wailed again, a feline sound of misery that broke her heart as she went to her knees in front of him and pulled him gently into her arms.

“Oh, Mason,” she whispered against his once soft coat, ignoring the bite of his claws into her arms as he cried out plaintively once again. “My poor baby. That’s okay. I’ll take care of you now.” She turned back to Luc, ignoring his dark frown. “You have abused my cat. There’s no excuse for that, Luc. I didn’t think you could truly be cruel until now.”

His brows lifted in surprise, his hands going automatically to his hips as he stared back at her incredulously.

“Abuse? The little bastard was doing his best to take a bite out of me. All I did was shoot him a time or two with the water hose. Hell, he barely got wet.”

Mason wailed again as Melina groaned silently. The water hose? Oh hell, Mason detested getting wet.

“He will hate you for life now.” She sighed as she shook her head. This was not going to be a pleasant incarceration.

“This is supposed to bother me?” He arched a brow mockingly.

Melina smiled tightly. “Well, let’s see, I paid your blackmail for him, which means he’s now a resident in your home. Let’s pray there’s no leather furniture, shoes or boots you’re particularly attached to. If so, they’re his the minute he gets his chance.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’ll kill him.”

“Tsk tsk, Luc.” She shook her head with a knowing smile. “You gave your word, remember? I upheld my end, and I didn’t tell you to abuse him, so…” She shrugged. “Unless your word means nothing, I guess you’re just screwed.”

“As long as it’s by you,” he murmured, his voice dropping, deepening to such a sensual pitch that chills chased over her flesh.

Melina swallowed nervously, her grip tightening on the bedraggled Mason as she fought back the panic welling in her chest. God, it was bad enough she ached for Luc; he did not have to make it worse.

“Only in your wildest dreams, cowboy,” she snapped. “Now I need to feed Mason.”

That brow arched again. That was never a good sign.

“Was feeding him part of the deal?” He surveyed the cat thoughtfully. “I don’t remember that part, sweet pea.”

“You’ve got all you’re going to get from me, Jardin,” she warned him quietly. “More than you know. If you want any cooperation from me at all, you’ll let this go.”