Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) (22 page)

Flayme lifted a brow. “A long, dry spell, huh?”

“Dry as the desert. Don’t let it trouble your pretty
little head, sweetheart. I told you, you aren’t my type.” He tore off his denim
coat and draped it across the back of the only chair in the room. With just
that small movement, he groaned and what little color he had left drained away,
leaving his face pale as the snow outside on the ground.

She bit her lower lip and sent up another silent prayer
that he didn’t die on her. Her eyes widened as she slowly scanned his body.
Good grief, the man was armed to the gills. A shoulder holster fit snug against
his side. When he turned to lock the door, she saw a second weapon at the small
of his back. “You have one of those tucked in your boot, too?”

“What?” He frowned, dragging the chair across the room and
jamming it beneath the doorknob, making the room as secure as possible. “Yeah.
Sure. I have one in each boot.”

“You expecting an invasion?” she asked, half joking. The
other half of her mind darkened with fear. If he was this concerned, she
thought maybe she should be too, or at the least, a bit more alert of what was
going on around her. His unease worried her, because it meant there was
something more than someone taking potshots at a little nobody CIA secretary.

“Hold it. I’ve changed my mind about the shower,” he
drawled, watching her limp toward the bathroom.

Her defense hackles shot up. He was not going to keep her
from cleaning up,
damn it!
She’d
taken a couple of tumbles, rolled in the snow with this man, and not for
pleasure. She’d slipped and fallen when some idiot asshole took potshots at
her. Her face hurt. Heck, her entire body felt like one big bruise. “Oh, well,”
she said sweetly. “That’s fine with me. I’d much rather take a nice long soak
in the tub with lots of hot water and bubbles.”

“Bubbles?” He rubbed the area around his heart and
coughed. “Not happening, sweetheart. I
said
it isn’t happening. Get over here,” he barked.

Flayme folded her arms across her chest. “Make me!”

Duel narrowed his eyes. Slowly, he stalked toward her.
“Don’t-ever-challenge-me,” he breathed, and grabbed her by the upper arms. “My
job is to protect you, but don’t think I have to play nice.”

She tried to sidestep him, but it was already too late. He
squeezed her arms and crab-walked her backward to the bed. There, he parked her
on the side of it.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, slapping at his hands.
“Let go of me!”

“Stay still,” he ordered, and eased down beside her.
“Damn, woman, you are one suspicious little soul. Have you always been so
distrusting or are you just naturally ornery?”

She glared at him. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re ornerier than a rattlesnake shedding its
skin.”

“Huh. Shedding its skin makes it mean?”

“Yup. It can’t see, so it strikes at everything. You’ve
had your fangs in me since the moment we met.”

“Now I’m a snake.”

He grinned. “Yup. Let me have your foot.”

“Why? Don’t you have two of your very own?” She batted her
lashes.

He laughed. “I do, but I want one of yours. Give.”

“No. I’m not in the mood to donate body parts.”

“Flayme, set your leg up here.” He patted his thigh.

“Oh, so now you want the entire leg?”

“I want to remove the piece of glass from your foot before
you cripple yourself.”

“Oh, in that case…” She swung her leg across his thighs.
“Have at it, cowboy.”

“See if there’s a pair of tweezers in that first aid kit.
Will you?”

Flayme nodded and dug through the kit.
“Ooh,
lucky me.” She pressed the
tweezers in his hand. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

“I’m not, you know.”

“Not what?” Flayme asked.

“A cowboy.”

She traced her gaze over him, noted the hat, jeans, boots.
He even wore a western cut shirt.

“My ass,” she muttered. “You look like the genuine thing
to me.” She recalled he’d been wearing a tux when they’d first set out tonight,
but he’d changed clothes at a rest stop somewhere along the way. He’d looked
hot and sexy in the tux, but this was the real man here, tough, rangy, with the
look of an outlaw, and this was the way she liked him best.

He arched a brow. “And when have you ever seen the genuine
thing?”

“Right now,” she said her voice soft.

Duel cleared his throat and looked away. “Hmm. Nasty cut,
sweetheart, but it’s clean. I guess the snow washed the bottom of your foot.
It’s stopped bleeding, too.”

“Ouch!
What are
you doing?” she gasped, when he probe the cut on the bottom of her foot.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you.” He stopped for a moment
and rubbed his forehead.

Flayme eyed him. “Are you sure you’re up to removing the
glass?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Your hand is shaking.”

He gripped the tweezers. “I said I’m fine. I’m going to
remove the glass, so don’t jerk your foot.”

“Ouch!
That
hurts, you big galoot.”

He grunted. “Be still!”

Flayme bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. He
held her foot with a firm grip, yet his touch was soft against her skin.
Gingerly, he worked the tip of the tweezers under the sliver of glass. She
squeezed her fists and buried her face against his shoulder.

“There.” He held up the tweezers for her to see the glass.
“Got it.” Duel dropped the sliver of clear glass in the trash container beside
the bed. “Hey, are you okay?” He rubbed tiny circles along her ankle, gently
massaging.

She didn’t think he realized what he was doing, but she
felt his warm strokes clear through her body. Flayme caught her breath on a
sharp note. “I’m okay.”

He twisted until he was facing her, then dragged her onto
his lap. “Still hurt? There might be more glass.”

“No. I’m fine.” She pressed her face against his chest.
God, the last thing she wanted him to know was how much his touch affected her.
“I’ll be okay. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

He rubbed her back. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was in
pretty deep. It was bigger than I thought it’d be. No wonder you were limping.”

Flayme leaned away, searching his eyes. He looked awful.
His face was so washed out, it looked like putty. He rubbed her shoulder,
squeezed it, and oh, God, their lips were mere inches apart, so close, yet
there was a huge gulf between them.

He didn’t trust her. She sure as heck wasn’t about to let
her guard down. She concealed way too many secrets. There were only four people
who knew who she really was including herself. Yes, way too many secrets, too
much intrigue. She’d love to unburden herself to this man, but she didn’t think
he’d believe anything she told him.

Flayme touched his mouth with an unsteady fingertip, tracing
the firm curve of his top lip. “I want to kiss you,” she said, her voice
unsteady. She couldn’t believe she’d dared to say such a thing.

Duel grabbed her wrist and jerked her hand away. “Don’t,”
he advised, his voice dripping with ice. “I’m not into playing games, Flayme.
You kiss me. I kiss you. It’s not stopping there, that’s a promise, lady. So
unless you’re ready to give up Mac, don’t tempt me.” He scooped her off his lap
and set her aside on the bed. “You have five minutes to get in the bathroom,
shower, and get back out here, before I come in to get you. I come in there,
I’m not making any promises I’ll stay out of the shower. Trust me, cupcake, I
won’t shower with my clothes on. So make it snappy!”

He drew her to her feet, paused, and pulled the cuffs from
his back belt loop.

“Really?” Flayme felt the bite of the cold steel as they
tightened in place around her wrists. “You’re one hard bastard,” she snapped.
“Let me go. I don’t need you or your protection!” She opened her mouth to
scream.

Duel clamped a rough palm over her mouth, turned her and
pointed her in the direction of the bathroom. His chest heaved against her
back, and sure enough, there was the proof that he wanted her poking against
her ass. “You scream, or try to scream, I swear I’ll gag you and leave you
gagged for the rest of the trip. Do you understand me?” He tightened his hold
across her mouth. “Nod once if you understand. It’s all the warning you’re
getting, so be smart and don’t make a peep.”

She nodded and swallowed a groan behind his hand. Lord,
she wanted to scream her lungs out, but she knew he meant what he said. The man
would gag her all the way to wherever he was taking her.

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking I won’t shut you up.”
Slowly, he removed his hand and stepped back.

Flayme whirled, rage flooding her body. “I really,
really
detest you.”

“Uh-huh. Where’d the love go? A moment ago you wanted to
kiss me.”

“Momentary insanity?”

Duel gripped her shoulders. Although he was careful not to
hurt her, the position brought her close to him. Her chest rubbed against his.
Flayme tried to ignore the sudden ache in her breasts, but her nipples had a
mind of their own. They tingled and tightened into poker stiff points.

He glanced down, apparently surprised by her body’s acute
reaction to his. A slow grin spread across his mouth. “Good to know it’s not
just me with body parts that get pointy.”

“Shut up,” she snapped. “It’s the cold.”

“Uh-huh.” Duel shoved her toward the bathroom. “I know the
feeling, doll baby. I’m freezing here, too.”

“Just how do you think I’m going to take a shower
handcuffed like this?”

“Easy. Turn on the water and step under it.”

“How am I supposed to undress?”

His smile slowly vanished. “Shit. All right, I’ll uncuff
you, but I’m cutting back on your shower time. Two minutes.”

“Two minutes? I can’t get undressed and shower in two
minutes.”

He shrugged. “Fine.”

She should have known from his wolf-like smile what he was
going to do. In an instant, he slapped the cuffs back on her, pushed her toward
the edge of the mattress and shackled her right wrist to his left one.

Flayme yanked on the cuff but the only thing she succeeded
in doing was bruising her flesh. “What are you doing? Let me go.”

“I need sleep. The only way I’ll get it is if I know you
can’t escape. So you stay cuffed to me.” Duel flopped down on the bed beside
her and shackled her right wrist to his left. “Go to sleep. We’ll sort out
things like taking a shower in the morning.”

“It is morning, you moron.”

“Look, this is the only time I’m going to say this. Shut
up, and go to sleep.”

“Make me,” she snapped for the second time.

“I’d love to make you do a lot of things, sister, so don’t
push me, and don’t keep pushing my buttons.”

“I haven’t been pushing your buttons!”

Duel rolled and in nothing flat, he pinned her beneath the
weight of his powerful body. “Listen to me, doll baby. I’m in no mood to play.
What I am is in a very foul mood. I ache everywhere, including places you don’t
wanna know about. I’ve lost enough blood to supply the Red Cross for a month,
so don’t give me a reason to drag you off this bed and cuff you to the bathroom
sink, because I will.”

Flayme nodded. She knew when not to cross a bear.

“That’s better. Let me get to feeling a little better, you
push my buttons then, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Her breasts heaved as she tried to buck him off her. He
ground his hips against her, pinning her to the mattress. “You want to do this
now?”

“What exactly is it you think I want?” she said through
clenched teeth.

A tiny smile settled on his lips. “A good fucking…the same
thing all young mares want when they discover their sugar daddy can’t satisfy
their needs. Keep rubbing it up against me like that and I’ll give you what
you’re asking for.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Duel rolled off her and slid the key to the cuffs inside
his right front pocket. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m a light sleeper.
Don’t try to steal the key.”

“Or?”

“You’ve been warned. Now go to sleep.”

* * * *

North Western Australia

The Kimberly

When
Dianna moaned and passed out, Taylor’s shoulders slumped with relief. Thank
God, she’d fainted. Watching her struggle to remain conscious while he set her
broken bone had been nearly as agonizing for him as her.

The
splints he’d fashioned from tree limbs worked to stabilize her leg, but they
were awful. Still, they were better than nothing. He’d padded them using what
extra clothing left over from the travois he’d fashioned. How long the wobbly
rig would hold up, he had no clue, but they couldn’t remain here, concealed
from any rescue plane that might fly over. They had to get out in the open or
they’d never be seen.

No
use thinking about what a bad way Dianna was in. He wasn’t even sure he’d set
the bone right. It was a terrible break, and the risk of infection high.
Worried, he soaked a shirt, wrung the water out on her leg, and wrapped it
around it. He prayed it’d help with the swelling and maybe give her a little
comfort.

Gingerly,
Taylor washed the clumps of drying dirt from her hair, but it was impossible to
get it all out. He should have let her wash it while she was in the pool, but
he’d known the longer they delayed setting her leg, the worse it’d get.

She
stirred as he smoothed her hair back from her face. He soothed her with calming
words as he lifted her head and trickled water into her mouth. “No, don’t
sweetheart. Swallow it. You need to drink.”

“What
―
” She drifted away. The water trickled
from her mouth and dribbled down her neck. Travis wiped it away with an
unsteady hand. His heart plunged to the tips of his toes. Being hurt o
r
injured was one thing, being unresponsive or able to take fluids was quite
another. Dianna could die, and there wasn’t one thing he could do to prevent it
from happening.