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Authors: Dana Marton

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BOOK: Desert Ice Daddy
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He’d shown little interest in her then, and even less since. Well, ever, to be truthful. And then there was Kat Edwards, the woman Akeem had not long ago brought out to the ranch. He’d asked Flint to hire her as a favor. And he’d been checking in with Flint on how she was doing. Who was she, and what was the relationship between the two? The few times Akeem visited lately, his first trip was always to Kat.

She had tried hard not to hate the woman who’d succeeded at getting Akeem’s attention in a way she’d never been able to.

Even now, with him touching her and her body fairly begging for more, he was nothing if not professional, didn’t linger. Her face, on the other hand, was flooded with heat by the time he finished. She was more than aware of his proximity, of the intimacy of their situation.

He stayed still for a long moment, breathed in, breathed out. “I can’t find anything,” he said darkly, then stood in front of her and held his arms out to the sides. “You’re next. I’ve been talking to the cops. One of them could have stuck something on me while I was busy with the other.”

An invitation to touch Akeem.

Oh, my
.

What wouldn’t she have given for this a couple of
years back? And even now, she wasn’t nearly as unaffected as she would have hoped. So much for all the maturity and self-control age was supposed to bring.

“So Kat is doing well at the ranch.” Her hands slightly trembled, which was ridiculous. She reached for his collar before he could have noticed, determined to be just as matter-of-fact about all of this as he had been.

“She really likes it there,” he said.

His shoulders were wide, his arms strong. She could feel the smooth bunch of muscles under his shirt, and pulled back a little before he thought she was copping a feel. Returning to a marginally more professional level, she checked the row of buttons on his shirt.
I can do this.
She almost had herself convinced when she looked up into his swirling dark eyes that seemed to shine in the dim tent.

There didn’t seem to be any air in Hell’s Porch all of a sudden. The heat that filled the tent seemed to seep into her lungs and her blood.

“You two known each other long? I don’t remember Flint mentioning her before.” She pried for information.

“Friend of a friend.”

And for some ridiculous reason, the unaffected way he said that made her happy in that moment.

He was as handsome as ever, and this was just about as close as they’d ever gotten. And he had to care about her, at least a little, to have come. Care about her or—

She leaned closer so she could identify the look in his dark eyes.
Oh, my.
She wasn’t an inexperienced teenager
anymore. She could tell when a man wanted her, and the look in Akeem’s intense gaze was unmistakable.

Her heart thudded. Her fingertips tingled. Awareness stretched between them, making her mouth go dry.

Chapter Five

Akeem saw her eyes go wide, and his own need tried to make him think it was from desire. Common sense said it had to be alarm. His body burned for her. But the last thing he wanted to do was to make her feel uncomfortable, especially with all that was going on. She didn’t need anyone putting the moves on her right now. She needed him to be a friend. She needed his support.

Pulling away was one of the hardest things he’d done in his life, but he did it, then turned. “Check the back, then I can do the rest.” If she touched him anywhere below the belt, he would have to work hard not to react.

“You have a gun?” she asked in a raspy voice after a moment, when her fingers found the weapon tucked into his waistband at the small of his back.

He hadn’t realized that she hadn’t seen it yet. “Problem?”

“No,” came the single word from behind. “I’m glad you came prepared.”

Prepared for a lot of things, but not for the way he was feeling right now. He didn’t turn back to her—
enough light remained for her to see exactly how much he wanted her.

He ran his hands along the seams of his pants to check for a transmitter. Swore when he found what he’d been looking for—a piece of black plastic the size of a fingernail. Someone had neatly dropped it into the cuff. Probably one of the cops, after Gary had told them that Akeem would be taking Taylor to the exchange.

“I’ll go get rid of this then walk around to make sure there isn’t something in the immediate vicinity we should know about.” Like one of the kidnappers, or a stream of water, which he had yet to find during his Hell’s Porch trips. There was rumor of a creek bed that held water, depending on the season.

Or a den of coyotes. He checked the gun.

He left her in the tent and circled their campsite in the last bit of light, doing his best to get his raging lust under control while he tried to pay attention to their surroundings. He saw nothing but more of the same of what they’d walked through to get here. He headed out then and threw the transmitter down a prairie-dog hole.

The sun had completely dipped below the horizon by the time he got back. Their sole sleeping bag was unzipped and spread out like a blanket. This way there was room for the both of them and neither would have to sleep on the bare ground. Taylor was lying on her side already. He zipped the tent flap behind him then lay down, leaving plenty of room between Taylor and himself when what he really wanted to do was draw her into his arms.

“Was everything okay?” she asked in the darkness.

“Not much out there.”

She gave a soft sigh, and he knew she had hoped that he would discover something that would lead them to Christopher. And he wished he could have. More than anything, he wanted to see her and her son safe. He wanted to protect them from harm. Not just now, but forever. If only she’d give him a chance.

“We are not leaving here without him,” he promised.

She drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry about—” She fell silent for a moment before continuing. “For kicking you at the boulder. You were protecting me. I’m glad that you are here.”

He stared at the ceiling, not daring to look at her dim silhouette now that his eyes had gotten used to the dark of the tent. Lusting after her at a moment like this went beyond all propriety. He
was
here to protect and support her. “No problem.”

“It is. I brought up your family in a way that was inexcusable. I don’t really know anything about your family. I was a total jerk. You saved my life. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I couldn’t think of anything but Christopher.”

“People say and do a lot of things they don’t mean to when someone they love is threatened.”

“I just went nuts.”

He’d gone nuts, too, thinking she would go running into danger. He could understand. “Forget it. We’re better friends than to let something like this be an issue between us.”

Friends. Right. Except he was feeling anything but friendly at the moment. He settled in, knowing he hadn’t much hope of falling asleep an arm’s length from her, and from the way she was still fidgeting an hour later, he was pretty sure she wasn’t asleep yet, either. He leaned toward her, not knowing even as he moved whether it was to make some light comment or draw her into his arms at last.

And they didn’t find out, either. The buzz of a motor stopped him, the sound on the ground this time and not in the air, then another vehicle, coming from a distance.

The rumble of the engines was getting stronger.

“Who is that?” Taylor moved closer.

He had no answer. But whoever they were, they were heading toward the tent.

 

T
AYLOR’S BREATH CAUGHT
and all her senses focused, suddenly alert.
Please, God, don’t let anything go wrong again.

Akeem was sitting up already, shoving his feet back into his boots. “I’ll check it out.”

She didn’t want to stay alone again in the dark tent. “I’ll go with you.”

He stood, held his hand out for her, his long fingers closing over her smaller ones in a firm, reassuring grip.

They zipped up the tent and kept low, in the cover of the sagebrush as they moved in the direction of the sound. Since visibility was decent in the moonlight, not much obstructing the view once they were out of the acacia patch, they didn’t have to walk far before they spotted the small group of four-wheelers.

“Teenagers,” Akeem whispered, although that precaution was probably unnecessary. Those kids wouldn’t have heard him over the noise they were making.

He stayed down, and so did she as the kids did jumps over a rocky overhang. Wispy clouds drifted over the moon, then darker ones. Five minutes passed, ten, half an hour. The boys didn’t seem to tire of their entertainment, not even when more clouds came, blocking out the moon. They didn’t head out until the first drops of rain fell. So much for the weather forecasts.

By the time she and Akeem reached the tent, the rain was coming down hard, the noise of the four-wheelers fading in the distance.

She’d been soaked through. She tugged at her clothes, silently cursing the weather, not nearly as concerned about her wet clothes or the fact that, given enough rain, their tent could be washed away as she was about the tracks the rain was obliterating at this very moment.

“How will we find them?”

“Let’s not worry about that until we see how bad things are in the morning. You better take those clothes off.” Akeem’s voice came from the dark. With the moon now under a cloud cover, virtually no light filtered into the tent. “You take the sleeping bag and wrap yourself up. I have an extra horse blanket in the bottom of the bag for emergencies.”

She peeled off her shirt and pants and laid them out to dry at her feet then slipped into her sleeping bag. She nestled in, but couldn’t get comfortable in the wet bra and underwear, so she tugged them off and carefully laid
them next to her. Better. Except for the acute awareness that she was naked with Akeem.

At least he wasn’t.

Then she heard the sound of wet clothes sliding against skin. And counted. Pants. Shirt. Socks. Then one more thing.

She whipped to her side, turning her back to him, and waited for her heart to slow. At least he didn’t know that she was naked, too.

“If they don’t dry by morning, they’ll dry on us as soon as the sun comes up.” His voice startled her.

Did he know? She pulled the sleeping bag to her chin.

“Don’t worry. I can’t see anything. Try to get some sleep.”

Easy for him to say. She squirmed.

“Are you okay?”

Since she anticipated a lot more squirming before she would fall asleep, she needed to come up with an excuse to cover up how pitifully bothered she was by his nearness. His
naked
nearness.

“It’s cold out here.” She spoke nothing but the truth. The rain had brought the temperature down by twenty degrees in twenty minutes.

But apparently she had said just the wrong thing.

Akeem moved closer. “We can keep each other warm. Come on.” He reached out in the darkness and pulled her to him, sleeping bag and all.

She froze, a full head-to-toe complete freak-out with her mind going blank. But when her brain began to function again, she did notice the heat that radiated from
him, and how good that felt. Little by little, she allowed herself to relax against him, as much for his warmth as to prevent him from realizing how much his touch was affecting her.

And as if having her back resting against his broad chest wasn’t enough, he placed his arm loosely on her waist and tucked her head under his chin.

“Goodbye, sleep,” she mouthed silently into the darkness. But wouldn’t have moved for anything.

 

T
HEY WERE MAKING
slower progress than the day before, covering only ten miles or so by eleven. Akeem tried to shrug off his exhaustion. He hadn’t slept much with Taylor in his arms. She’d been cold, but soft, a perfect fit, and soon enough her body had warmed to his. Then when she fell asleep and truly snuggled into him, curves against angles…

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep until close to dawn. And now he was paying the price for it. But being able to hold Taylor in his arms was worth a sleepless night. It was worth so much more than that.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Taylor had walked a step or two behind him earlier in the morning to benefit from his shadow—little things like that could make a big difference in the desert—but with the sun now high in the sky, his shadow was negligible so they were walking beside each other.

“It’s our best bet.”

The rain had washed away the tracks from the day before, but they’d crossed a set of fresh ones that seemed
very similar, heading in the same direction. His instincts said they were on the right path. He wondered if they were being followed.

Doing a full-body search of Taylor last night, he had nearly lost control. Those kids on four-wheelers had reminded him at the last second just how easily it could have been someone else, how vigilant he needed to remain. Not allowing any distractions.

He was going to help her find Christopher. Then he was going to figure out who was responsible for the kidnapping and take care of him. For good. The darkness rose inside him, but for once, he didn’t care.

He would not stand for Taylor and her son being in danger. If necessary, he was going to put his own security in place to make sure something like this never happened again. And when she had settled back down to normal life, when she had some time to get over her divorce and all this, he would do his best to win her heart. His best friend’s little sister or not, he couldn’t let Taylor McKade slip away from him again. He was going to court her.

The notion sounded old-fashioned, but that was what he wanted. If he tried for a quick fling, Flint would kill him anyway. And he didn’t want a quick fling. He wanted to spend time with her, to protect her, to have her fall in love with him. He wanted marriage, brothers and/or sisters for Christopher. He wanted forever with Taylor McKade.

But he would be the worst kind of man if he pushed her now, before she was ready. So he had held her through the night, giving her the sense of security and
comfort she needed and not making a move, not touching her in any other way beyond that, even if his body had been as hard as the boulders that littered the landscape.

And he needed to think about something else, or he’d soon be back in the same condition all over again.

“How is the foot?” he asked.

She’d been limping slightly for the past couple of miles. Looked like her shoes were beginning to rub.

“Fine.”

Of course, she would have said that no matter what. She had that stubborn look on her face. Nothing was going to stop Taylor McKade this time.

“Let’s take a break and have a drink.” The sun was nearing its zenith. No call so far.

She had worried that the kidnappers would delay too long and the battery might run out, leaving them without means to communicate. And truly lost in the desert. He’d checked the battery power the last time they had stopped. It had less than half of its life left.

“When we reach those boulders,” Taylor said.

He squinted at the dark mass she was indicating in the distance. Made sense. They needed shade. But he would have preferred if she rested sooner. “Let me take those.”

She was carrying the briefcases again. “I can handle it.” She wouldn’t even slow down.

The closer they got to the boulders, the more familiar they seemed, giving him some hope at last. “I think I’ve been here before.” A couple of years back.

“You know where we are?”

“Near the center.” He’d camped by these boulders.

From time to time, when a strange loneliness broke over him, he would come out here. He missed his mother; he missed Beharrain, even. He’d missed Taylor when she’d been married to another man, and had been biding his time, giving her some space to find sure footing since her divorce.

Not that he had lived like a monk all his life. Some of the same men who sneered at his heritage would have been only too happy to meld his auction house and millions into their own holdings through marriage. There had never been a shortage of introductions. But as a rule, he’d never gone for the not-so-innocent debutantes put in his path. For his rare affairs, he preferred women who knew the score. And from time to time, he was able to lose himself in them.

At other times, when he was sick of all that, he packed up some rations, vaulted his favorite black Arabian stallion and headed out to Hell’s Porch. Being alone with nature wasn’t the same as being lonely. The Arabian Desert and his uncles had taught him that.

And now he was here with Taylor. A damn strange turn of events.

An hour passed before they reached their destination.

“Let me see that.” He took her feet in hand as soon as she sat on the smallest of the boulders, a pickup-size rock that on one end was only waist high.

“Taylor.” He couldn’t help the growl from his voice as he pulled off her sneakers and saw the bloody sock. “Why didn’t you say something? I have bandages.” He reached for the first-aid kit that had somehow worked its way to the bottom of the duffel bag.

BOOK: Desert Ice Daddy
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