Beholden (38 page)

Luke wanted to throw something, hit something, anything to get rid of the rage inside him. Rage at Nick Russo, the system,
his own inadequacies. If it was the last thing he did, he’d put that bastard behind bars for all the torment he and his brother
had put Terry through.

Grabbing his jacket, he went outside to chop more wood.

In her room, curled up on the bed, Terry felt renewed guilt churn in her system like undigested food. Had Nick Russo somehow
gotten to her father? Had her call to Dad been the thing that would allow that gangster to find them? Had he hurt her father,
made him talk? She was certain that John Ryan wouldn’t have exposed her to harm any other way.

She put her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. If she told Luke about her call, he’d be furious, and it would accomplish
nothing. The court date was close at hand. She’d just ride it out. The cabin was really isolated. Perhaps Nick Russo wouldn’t
be able to locate them.
Please, God, don’t let that man find us
.

It was the middle of the night and he couldn’t sleep. Had he heard something or had it been his imagination? Luke pulled on
his jeans and slipped his feet into the fleece mocassins. As always, he jammed the .38 into his waistband. He heard the furnace
go on and left his room, wandering along the hall. Only ashes smoldered in the fireplace, but the woodsy smell lingered. The
cabin creaked and moaned and a winter wind whistled through the eaves.

Terry’s door was ajar, something he’d insisted upon, despite their separate room arrangements. He glanced in and
saw she was finally asleep. He’d heard her restless turnings long after she’d switched off the lamp, leaving only a small
night-light burning.

In the dark in the kitchen, he opened the blinds. Moonlight flooded the yard, reflecting on the stark white snow. One of the
dogs was silently patrolling the yard. He could hear the other one snuffling around in the storage room on the other side
of the folding door. Nothing seemed amiss, yet he was edgy with nerves.

It was Jones’s call, Luke decided as he closed the blinds. Knowing that Nick Russo was probably in Reno tonight. When had
he arrived and why was it that
two
federal agents hadn’t been able to track him leaving Phoenix? Had he driven or flown? Had he already had someone look up
the county records for deed ownership in California, or was he going to do that tomorrow? Was Reno as the city with a major
airport closest to the cabin a lucky guess or information he’d gotten from a paid snitch?

Luke walked to the front window and looked out. Nothing and no one stirring. His imagination on overtime. He walked back down
the hallway, pausing at Terry’s door. But a peek wasn’t enough, so he stepped inside and stood looking down at her. She was
on her back, one hand curled on the pillow next to her, her face turned toward him. She looked young, troubled, vulnerable.

She’d shifted the covers down to where they lay bunched at her waist. It was then that he noticed that she was wearing his
blue denim shirt, the sleeves rolled up on her pale arms. He’d been wondering what had happened to that shirt since he didn’t
have a lot of clothes with him. She had a flannel gown, but she preferred this. So she wasn’t over him, not really.

And he was far from over her. Despite all his fine speeches to her and to himself, he wanted this woman like he’d wanted no
other. Lightly, he trailed the backs of his fingers down one shoulder, over the rise of her breast, moving
lower. She shivered, making a soft sound in her throat, then shifted slightly in her sleep.

Luke knew every man had to pay for his sins, but God help him, he couldn’t stay away from her a moment longer. He would pay,
gladly, for one more night with her. Quietly, he placed his gun on the nightstand, stepped out of his mocassins, and folded
back the feather bed. Watching her face, he skimmed his hand up the smooth skin of her inner thigh. In seconds, he inched
higher, touching her, stroking her.

Terry went from sleepy to stimulated in an instant, her eyes flying open, wide with shock, then suffused with swift desire
as she made a sound, half protest, half plea.

“Shhh, honey, don’t fight me, please,” he whispered as he eased onto the mattress alongside her. “I need you so much.”

And, oh God, how she needed him, Terry thought as she went boneless under his clever fingers that knew her so well. She couldn’t
fight him, couldn’t move, couldn’t think as his assault on her senses drove her up, drove her crazy. When the explosion came,
she felt herself shatter into a million pieces, clinging to him for support. And he was there, holding her, murmuring to her,
kissing her.

Falling back onto the pillow, she felt limp, exhausted, yet wonderfully alive. She wanted more, wanted him. She wouldn’t think
about the problems between them, the madman chasing them, the cloudy future awaiting them. There was only now, this minute,
this man who could make her forget, if only for a little while, all the evil and uncertainties in the world. “I need you,
too,” she confessed.

He needed no further urging. Gathering her to him, he kissed her, deeply, erotically, lengthily. Her hands on his bare chest
explored, caressed, aroused. He eased back and with more patience than he thought he had, he slowly unbuttoned the shirt she
was wearing. “This never looked this good on me,” he said as he spread the folds, exposing her to
his hungry eyes. Then he shoved the material from her and dipped his head to taste every square inch of her.

A rush of emotions clogged Terry’s throat as she felt her pulse thunder and her breath hitch out through trembling lips. She
was steeped in him, drowning in him. Slowly, tenderly, he touched his lips to her throat, the slope of her shoulders, the
soft underside of her breasts. No spot was too large or too small for his avid attention. Here was the gentle lover a woman
might dream of, might long for, yet found so rarely.

Impatiently, his hands fumbled at the snap of his jeans. He shoved them off along with his briefs before turning back to her.
Unable to stop herself, Terry held out her arms, welcoming his return, reaching for his kiss.

He was a man who’d killed and would kill again, but only to save lives, to protect others. She knew that, knew him. He would
deny his gentleness though it was there, just as he would deny how much he cared. But she could feel that, too. This wasn’t
sex they were sharing, but love they were making.

Because Luke loved her.

She felt it, knew it deep inside herself. Still, she doubted if he’d admit it, even to himself. Yet she knew and the knowledge
made her tighten her hold on him, trying to let him know that she loved him in return. He didn’t want to hear the words, she
knew, but he needed this, needed her to show him in every other way that mattered.

Single-mindedly, he set about giving her pleasure, shoving his own needs aside. The taste of her, the scent of her, had him
half-mad, as he pressed his lips to the quivering peak of one breast. His greedy mouth closed on her and he heard her gasp.
As he shifted his attention to her second breast, his hand skimmed down and moved into her heat again.

Buffeted by the maelstrom, Terry’s breath sobbed from her and her eyes fluttered closed as the storm waves hit her.
Dear God, she hadn’t dreamed it could be like this. She’d known satisfaction before, but never this mindless bliss, this fierce
eruption. And only one man had been able to bring her to this. She opened her eyes and saw him watching her, his eyes darkly
intense.

“Not that I’m complaining, but are you ever going to join me?” she asked, her hand caressing his bearded face.

“Do you want me to?”

How odd that he would need the words, this man who’d turned from them just a few days ago. “More than the next breath I take.”
She saw the change in his face and knew that he believed her.

He moved over her and in her, a sense of peace overwhelming him instantly. He was home, where he was meant to be. His fingers
laced with hers, his eyes locked with hers, he began to move. Slowly, absorbing the feelings, enjoying the intimacy of being
skin to skin, heart to heart, climbing together. Light drifted in from the hallway and he saw color infuse her cheeks, felt
heat move into his face. Though she fought it, her eyes finally closed as she arched, taking him deeper.

His mouth took hers as the pace quickened. He wanted it to go on forever, wanted her locked with him for all time. But when
he heard her cry out in stunned pleasure, his control finally snapped and he let go. Holding her tightly, he emptied himself
into her.

Things had shifted again. More than the euphoria of the first night they’d spent in the same bed, last night had been a revelation.
An admission that they couldn’t seem to do without the other, though neither had spoken the words aloud.

They hadn’t slept much, time and again reaching for each other, silently reaffirming the depth of their feelings. Toward morning,
wrapped in Luke’s strong arms and astonishingly replete, she’d finally drifted off. And she’d awakened the
same way, something that was in itself a remarkable pleasure.

They’d showered and dressed, made coffee and eaten breakfast, never mentioning the fierce quarrel that had brought about their
devastating estrangement nor the reunion that had introduced this truce. But she noticed that he found reasons to touch her,
to brush her cheek, to pull her into a kiss that spoke volumes.

The feelings they shared were not simple, nor would they be easily dismissed, for they’d tried that. The trial was a week
away. After that, seemed to be the unstated mutual plan, they’d reexamine their relationship and see where they stood. For
now, they would just be. They would take comfort in one another while devoting their energies toward watching out for intruders.

If ever there was a topsy-turvy alliance, it was theirs, Terry thought as she bent to the refrigerator drawer, digging through
for vegetables. She’d decided to make a pot of soup. Gathering an armload of carrots, celery, onions, and potatoes, she set
them on the counter alongside the stewing beef she’d defrosted.

It was a gray day outside, already looking like evening though it was barely four. It had snowed all night and the wind had
blown snowdrifts everywhere, making the overgrown shrubs and barren trees look ghostly. Luke had been out shoveling a path
for Duke and Rogue several times, making sure their doggie door was clear. He’d come in a short time ago and gone to sit by
the fire, saying he felt chilled to the bone. He’d accepted her offer of a cup of hot coffee, then stretched out in the lounge
chair wearing a heavy sweater and the fleece moccasins. He’d even left on his silly black cap. She’d kissed his cold, red
cheeks and left him to thaw.

Glancing out the window over the sink, Terry noticed that even the dogs didn’t want to be out in this weather since she couldn’t
catch sight of them patrolling. The big shepherds were probably huddled together in the warm storage room.
They likely couldn’t pick up a scent in the freshly fallen snow anyhow, so they might as well stay in.

Humming to herself, Terry rinsed and chopped the vegetables, then took out the big Dutch oven and placed it on the front burner.
She poured in a tablespoon of oil, then dropped in the meat to brown. She flipped on the burner, and that’s when the kitchen
light went out.

Frowning, she wondered if the stove going on had somehow shorted out a wire. Probably just blown a fuse. Going to the doorway,
she saw that Luke must have fallen asleep. She hated disturbing him. Fortunately, the big high-beam flashlight was on the
hearth. She picked it up and decided to go check the fusebox in the storage room.

Turning on the flashlight, she turned the knob of the storage room. She stepped inside and turned to the left wall where she’d
seen Luke checking the fuse box when they’d first arrived. Absorbed in examining each fuse, she didn’t hear the rustle of
clothing behind her until it was too late. A hard arm came around her neck, pressing against her throat, effectively blocking
her air supply and making even a gasp impossible. She caught a fleeting glimpse of someone wearing a ski mask as she dropped
the flashlight, her heart drumming in her chest.

“Where’s your boyfriend, sweetheart?” a deep male voice asked, speaking directly into her ear.

She made a gagging sound and he decreased the pressure slightly. He was a good head taller than she and he was forcing her
body tight against his. Her frantic mind raced, wondering if this strong intruder was Nick Russo or one of his henchmen, worrying
what had happened to the dogs, hoping Luke had somehow heard him enter.

Nervously, Nick pressed the Magnum’s barrel to her head. He could kill her now, then look for Tanner. But he knew it was smarter
to take out the most dangerous one first. Besides, in case something went wrong, he could use the
woman as a bargaining chip. “I’m going to give you a little air so you can talk, but don’t you do anything stupid.”

He yanked off his ski mask and pulled her backward so he could look into her wild, frightened eyes. He loved this, having
her at his mercy. He grinned down into her face. “You healed up pretty good, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Maybe, if things worked
out really well, he’d take the time to have a little fun with her. Serve her right for what she’d put Sam through.

Terry stared, recognizing him from pictures Luke had shown her. Sam’s brother, Nick. The loose cannon, as Bob had once described
him. Good God, what chance did they have?

Nick kept his voice low. “All right, enough. Tell me where Tanner is.”

Terry felt the gun press into her neck as she tried to swallow. She had to make a pretense of cooperating or he might just
shoot her right here. She didn’t want to endanger Luke, but she had no leverage. “In there,” she managed. “Asleep.” She doubted
that he was. Luke, with his keen hearing, was probably crouching with his gun, waiting for the right moment.

Nick didn’t believe her. The Luke Tanner he knew wouldn’t have napped in the daytime, nor would he sleep through someone’s
breaking in. Holding on to her, the gun still in place, Nick dragged her just far enough into the kitchen so he could see
through the archway.