Trapped by a Dangerous Man (6 page)

“Movie sounds great,” I said as I followed him down the steps. “Can you show me the forecast first?”
 

He raised his broad shoulders in a shrug.
 

The Weather Channel confirmed what Corbin had told me. As if that weren’t bad enough, the movie turned out to be some horrible testosterone-laden action flick with way too many fast cars and machine guns for my comfort. I found a copy of
The Old Man and the Sea
on a bookshelf and sat in a corner of that gorgeous couch. It was as comfortable as it was stylish. Well, once I took Lagos in, I could buy one just like it.

I pulled a fluffy, navy blue afghan up around my legs. By holding the book just right, I could peek through my lashes and watch Corbin. Truth be told, there were worse views. I decided that he had a nice profile. His nose was long, but not too long, and surprisingly straight for a man who’d probably participated in his share of fights. But my favorite feature had to be his full lips.

Watching him eat had been surprisingly erotic. He tasted the first few bites as if analyzing them. I knew he considered the meal he’d made to be the equivalent of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but there was no doubt that he enjoyed the flavor and texture of food.

It made me wonder how he felt about… I shook my head.
 

I’d never slept with a man like Corbin. Not just the fact that he was on the wrong side of the law, but I’d never had anyone nearly as attractive. He had an amazing physique, the muscles perfectly balanced. The sort of body that lifelong athletes enjoyed.

At least I assumed they enjoyed them. I wouldn’t know. I was only in decent shape. It was a requirement; a few times a year I found myself having to chase after someone. Much more often, and more difficult, I was forced to stand in one place for hours at a time, waiting for the target to get home. I also spent a lot of time talking to neighbors and relatives to get information. Sometimes I bribed them, but it was easier and cheaper to try flirting first. Amazing what a partially unbuttoned shirt could do.

So I jogged. I lifted weights when I was able to get to the gym, and I had a few DVDs that I sometimes worked out along with, but it would have taken a superhuman effort for me to achieve the female equivalent of Corbin’s body. On a scale of 1 to 10, he was a solid 10, and even adjusting for individual tastes, I doubted many people would disagree.
 

On that same scale, I was a 7, maybe a 7.5 in good light.

My self-assessment wasn’t just conjecture. When I was 17, my brother’s friends evaluated me at my insistence. I figured it was better to know these things. One of the friends took me aside later and suggested that if I dyed my hair blonde, he might bump me up to a 7.5, but if I let him feel me up, he’d give me a 10.

To me, that had been a succinct and educational look into the workings of a man’s mind. If I offered them sex, it didn’t matter if I was a 4. Or, as Rob said when I later told him about the conversation, “With guys, it’s ‘yup’ or ‘nope.’ Hotness numbers don’t mean crap. You can’t kiss a girl 60%, after all.”
 

But thus far, I didn’t have a shred of evidence that Corbin found me the least bit attractive.

And once the thought took hold in my mind, its claws of insecurity dug in and wouldn’t let go. I was literally snowed in with this man. There wasn’t anything to do but watch movies and eat… and his taste in movies sucked and I didn’t need the extra calories.

I slowly turned a page and continued watching Corbin through my lashes. Maybe, if I seduced him, we’d be even again. He saved my life, I screwed him. Sure, I would also enjoy the sex, but he had probably enjoyed feeing like a hero. As a bonus, if we were in the same bed, I’d know where he was and wouldn’t have to worry about him getting away.

I smiled. Put that way, seducing him was a goddamn professional imperative, right?

Ah, hell. My body had wanted him from the moment I realized he’d saved my life. Sometimes it just took my brain a minute to catch up.
 

Now that the decision was made, I needed to figure out how I was going to restrain him. He was too big to take prisoner unless I surprised him, or had a weapon. I could, however, tie him up and call for backup. Specifically, I’d call Rob. Rob was fair and rather unambitious. I’d still get the bounty and the credit, but I’d take care of my brother. Everyone would win.

Everyone except Corbin. I wondered what he’d done to warrant such a high bounty. It didn’t matter, really. I wrinkled my nose. Except… suppose he’d done some really revolting things? I shook my head, and Corbin looked over at me.
 

“Everything ok?”
 

When his low voice rolled over me, my body tingled. “Are you married?” was the best I could manage.

He looked at me a long moment, sadness in his eyes. Then his gaze drifted down to my lips. “No.” He smiled slowly. “You?”

I shook my head. “Kids?”

Something not unlike a grimace flashed across his face, and he paused the movie before shifting toward me. He propped one of his muscular arms along the top of the sofa, which made his chest flex and widen. “Why are you asking me this? What are you getting at, Audrey?”

That was a great question to make a girl blush, which I did. “Just wondering,” I squeaked. “Are you wearing contact lenses?”

Now one of his eyebrows drifted up. “No. Do you have kids?”

“No.”
 

“Are you in the habit of venturing out unprepared during blizzards?”
 

I glared. “No.”

“No one knows where you are.” It wasn’t a question, and I suddenly had a difficult time breathing. I reminded myself that if he wanted to kill me, he would have done it already.
 

Still, I didn’t like where this conversation was heading. I needed to reroute it, and fast. “How do you feel about one-night stands?”
 

He briefly looked surprised, and I counted that as a point in my favor.
 

“They’re fine,” he said. “Any other questions?”

Yeah, just a few dozen. Like do you know who I am or am I paranoid, and why is there a bounty on your head? And oh, by the way, am I coming off as desperate?

But I shook my head and looked at my book. Corbin moved closer and plucked it out of my hands.
 

Oh, God, he was so close. Too close. His breath was warm, and I let my head tilt slightly, but I kept my eyes open.
 

“How do you feel about one-night stands, Audrey?” The look on his face was intent, serious.

Instead of answering, I made the first move, sliding the last few inches that separated us. I closed my eyes and lifted my mouth to his. The moment our lips touched, I knew I was lost. The persistent murmur of desire became a screaming roar:
NEED!

He didn’t respond except for a little intake of breath. But then his hand gently touched the area where my neck and jaw met, and his mouth opened.

I smiled a little, then moved even closer. I loved being in control, loved seducing men, loved the thrill of power as I turned them on.
 

Now both of his hands were on my face, holding me still, and he sampled me just as he’d tasted the food: slowly, deciding if it was good enough. I knew it would be. His kiss turned aggressive, but I matched his intensity. I pressed my palm on the front of his chest and let my hand skim down.
 

Fuck. His body was sick. He was all muscle. Even his stomach was hard. I’d never felt anything like it.

My hands turned into claws, and I pulled at his shirt until the snap buttons yielded. A little whimper burst from my throat as I rubbed his warm skin, then dipped lower to grapple with the bulge in his jeans. It was a nice big one, too, which was something I appreciated quite a lot in my partners.
 

He caught my wrist in a viselike grip and broke off the kiss. My eyes opened, and I saw that he was looking at me, had probably never closed his eyes at all. He didn’t look happy, which was baffling, because usually, erection plus willing woman was enough to make most men giddy with joy. “I take it you like one-night stands,” he said.

“Yes.” And I refused to feel bad about it. If he was going in that direction, this was over. Judgmental men were such a turnoff. “I love sex. Good sex, at least.” I raised an eyebrow in challenge.

He tightened his grip on my wrist and rose over me, and I found myself sliding down until I was on my back. Quiet fury simmered in his eyes. “How do you feel about one-night stands with men you’re stalking? Or is that part of the fun?”

My face must have gone white, because I felt the blood leave it, felt myself getting cold. “What?”

“I asked myself, what was this woman who I’d seen earlier in the day doing all the way out here? So I found your car, Audrey. I saw the paper in the glovebox with my name circled.” He seemed to take pleasure in my panic. “You couldn’t call for backup, so what were you going to do? Tie me up when I was sleeping?”

“What? No!”

“Then what was your plan?”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, but no sound came out. He brought his face very close to mine, and so help me, I wanted him more than ever, wanted him to fuck me, wanted the clearheaded thinking that a good orgasm would provide.

“I should have left you in the ditch to die,” he snarled. But he was still gripping me, and I could feel his erection where his hips pressed into the side of my leg.

Someone once told me that fear was the greatest aphrodisiac, and that the best way to ensure a date would end with sex was to do something scary together. I’d rolled my eyes at the time because we were in a “haunted” house, but maybe he was onto something. Because even though my very existence was on the line, I had never wanted anyone—or anything—like I wanted Corbin Lagos inside of me.

It was stupid, and it made no sense. But I had a very good, honest relationship with my pussy, and she wasn’t being quiet about what she wanted. I shifted a little, rubbing my leg against Corbin, and while the look in his eyes hardened, so did his cock.

“Fuck me,” I whispered. “I promise not to kill you or anything.”

“At no point did you have any chance of killing me, little girl. You have no weapon. You’re still weak from your ordeal last night. Any delusion that you could have captured me was just that: a delusion.”
 

He released one of my wrists and wrapped his large hand around my throat and squeezed. At first his touch was light, but as his fingers tightened, my smile died. “Don’t forget that while you slept, I watched over you. I protected you. You are only alive because of my mercy. Don’t make me regret it, Audrey.”

I struggled, trying to push him away, but he was bigger, stronger, and he had all the leverage. I went limp under him, staring up. My eyes were filling with tears because I couldn’t breathe, and it made me even angrier that he probably thought I was
crying
.

He eased up, and fresh air flooded my lungs. I began coughing, but Corbin didn’t move back. When it passed, he said, “So, little Audrey. What’s it going to be? Do you want to live?”

I nodded.

“We are stuck here until the storm passes. Here’s what I propose. Until tomorrow at 5:00 pm, we call a truce. Neither of us will try to kill”—he gave me a reproachful look—“or capture the other.”

It was a fair deal considering that I had zero leverage. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

He smiled. “I’m not the untrustworthy one.”
 

There was silence as I digested that. Again, he had an excellent point; he had saved my life despite knowing who I was. Or maybe I had more leverage than I’d thought. If he killed me, all that expended energy would be for naught. “Ok. Deal.”

“Not so fast. Let’s ensure that you’ll keep your word.” He pressed a hand over my mouth, and I squirmed, but he wasn’t trying to cut off my air. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

I couldn’t hear whoever it was that answered, but someone must have because Corbin said, “Are you in the city?” He paused. “Good. I want a man on Rob Stroop. He’s a fugitive tracker with Stroop Finders. Oh, you know them. Even better.” His eyes connected with mine. “If anything happens to me, kill him.”

He hung up the phone and removed the hand from my mouth. I sat up, sputtering. “You fucking asshole!”

“If your brother ends up dead, it’s your fault.” He moved back to where he’d been sitting, picked up the television remote and casually hit the play button. Revving engines exploded from the speakers.

I fled to the bathroom, locked the door and collapsed on the floor, trembling. My mind was so screwed up, and I didn’t understand what had happened. Corbin knew who I was, and he wasn’t threatened. That made me
furious
. And what did I do? Try to seduce him. A man who was surely a Very Bad Person. Yet the only man I’d ever met who didn’t think with his cock. I felt rejected and belittled and confused, and especially, I was disgusted with myself. I wrapped my arms around my knees and sighed, defeated.
 

He’d outsmarted me.
 

He wanted a truce? He’d get it. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t pump him for information that would make my job easier once the truce ended.
 

In the meantime, hell, Corbin was probably right. It was going to be a long day if we couldn’t make nice.
 

I walked out and stood in front of the television. Corbin looked up at me with a little impatient sigh. “You’re in my way.” There was a tension in the way he held himself that suggested he wasn’t as unconcerned with me as he’d claimed.
 

“All bets are off at 5:00,” I said.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. No. If we’re stuck together, let’s make the most of it.” I paused, expecting a cocky look on his face, but Corbin’s mind really wasn’t going in that direction. If I hadn’t had such irrefutable proof of his attraction earlier… but I knew better. It was a physical reaction, not actual attraction. Apparently he was indifferent to me.

“How do you propose we do that?” he asked.