Bounty Hunter (17 page)

The choice was taken from her when a high-piercing whinny ripped through the peaceful
late-afternoon air.

NINE

Before Elizabeth could so much as jump, she was facedown on the ground, held there
by a firm hand at her back. Oddly, her first thought was that this wasn’t exactly
how she’d imagined him flattening her. She craned her neck awkwardly and saw Kane
in a half crouch over her, using the scraggly shrubs that lined the edge of the ledge
for cover as he scanned the grounds below them.

Not for the first time she wondered exactly what he’d done over the years to instill
such a strong awareness of his surroundings. She’d chalked it up to his background,
the instinctive responses and intuitiveness possibly due to his early years on the
reservation. Now she wasn’t so sure.

She pushed that aside as well. The bottom line was that no matter his past, no matter
how unwise it was, she’d entrusted him with her safety. Her life. Judging from the
strain radiating from his every
pore and the echo of that horrible single scream from Sky Dancer still ringing in
her ears, she suspected she just might be putting that faith to the test very soon.

“Kane?” she whispered as softly as she could.

He immediately bent low, pressing his lips to her ear. “Nothing. I don’t know what
spooked her. I can’t see her from here.”

Elizabeth tensed. “Is she—?”

“I’m not sure. She could be behind the barn. The paddock she was in is partially blocked.”
He took his hand from her back, but remained almost prone beside her. “Stay here until
I signal you to come down.”

“But—”

“Do it, Annie.” He paused, then a harsh whisper filled her ear. “You said earlier
you couldn’t afford to worry for me.” Another short pause. “I can’t for you either.
Promise me that you’ll stay here until I come back or signal.”

Stunned by the fierceness of his plea, she was slow to answer.

“Promise me!”

She shifted slightly until she could look him square in the face. “Okay! But I’m not
helpless.” She swallowed against the denial that shone in his eyes. “This is
my
life in jeopardy, you can’t expect me not to take an active part in protecting it.”

He shook his head, his expression one of supreme frustration. “Just keep your word,
we’ll discuss the rest later.”

In a silent second, he disappeared back down the path. Elizabeth pounded the dirt
with her fist, then scooted as close as she dared to the overlook. He hadn’t made
her promise not to keep watch over him.

Kane moved swiftly, finding it harder than usual to keep his mind singularly on the
task at hand.

I’m not married.
Her words rang over and over through his mind as he picked his way closer to the
cover of the barn. He searched his soul desperately for the relief that should have
accompanied such an announcement. After all, wasn’t that what he’d wanted? Dreamed
of? Fantasized about? Beholdened to no one? Free to come to him?

He slipped silently through the opening in the back of the barn where he’d removed
several rotting boards. He bit back an oath. The answer was yes. But he was a truly
selfish bastard because he wanted more. So much more. For her. For himself. The bitter
truth of just how brutally honest he’d been when he’d said he had nothing to offer
her burned his throat like acid. There would be no relief, no celebration. Because
the outcome hadn’t changed. He was a wanderer. A bounty hunter. They had no future.

His eyes quickly adapted to the pre-evening light that cast the barn in deep shadows.
He was alone.

Yeah. He was that all right.

Shoving all thoughts from his mind save making sure the grounds were clear and that
Annie was safe, he pressed against the front door, then slid outside. He kept his
back to the weathered planking as he moved slowly toward the paddock. In the next
instant, all hell broke loose.

Another equine scream rent the air, and as swiftly as he covered the remaining space,
he was still too late. Bucking and writhing under her rider, Sky Dancer tried desperately
to unseat the stranger.

Kane slid his knife from the sheath on his belt, wishing he had the rifle that was
in the bunkhouse. Holding the blade, he balanced the weight in his fingers and waited
for the exact moment to let it fly. Unseat him and disable him, but keep him alive
for questioning. The mental strategy was automatic. The rider wore baggy clothes and
a dusty hat crammed low on his head. Kane couldn’t make much of an ID, other than
that he was tall and slender as Kane had predicted. But he’d bet his life it was the
same mercenary who had tailed him out of Boise.

Kane shifted his weight, preparing to throw, but just then the rider brought a stick
down hard on Sky Dancer’s flanks and the mare shot forward.

With a bloodcurdling whoop, Kane left his cover, fury at the mistreatment of his horse,
changing the aim of his throwing arm to dead center. Even as the mare wildly charged
the fence at the opposite end of the paddock, her rider turned and leveled a gun on
Kane.

Kane crouched just as the report echoed across the ground, then ducked through the
rails into the paddock. As he took aim, the horse and rider cleared the fence and
went racing across the side field toward a dense stand of trees.

Kane quickly changed course, knowing he had no hope of catching them on foot, but
praying that in her frenzy, Sky Dancer would stick with the familiar and take the
trail to the stream that lay in the direction they’d fled.

He skirted the front of the house and let loose a string of curses. The truck’s tires
had been slashed. With pursuit no longer an option, he switched his mind instinctively
back to his immediate surroundings. He hadn’t had the time to check for additional
prints, but he couldn’t risk that the stranger had returned alone. He quickly scouted
the perimeter of the house, then the interior, before moving to the bunkhouse.

“Dammit!” He sheathed his knife and scooped up his now-empty saddlebag from the corner
where he’d stashed it. Some of the contents were strewn across the dusty planked floor,
but he didn’t bother searching through it. It was obvious the rifle was gone. He flung
the bags hard against the opposite wall. The sun was on its descent, there was no
way off the mountain, and the only thing he had to keep them safe was a seven-inch
knife and his wits.

He swore again. About the only damn thing in the world he had to be thankful for right
now was that Annie had stayed out of the line of fire.

That and the fact that she’d had the good sense not to marry the son of a bitch who
was trying to kill her.

Because he’d hate like hell to be the one to make her a widow.

Knowing she’d heard the gunshot, Kane bottled his fury and turned his thoughts to
getting back up the trail, wondering how much he was going to tell her.

A rustling sound beyond the warped walls stilled him in midstride. Whoever it was,
was moving slowly, stealthily. He gave himself a swift mental kick as he moved to
a position flat beside the only door. First, he’d obviously missed a track somewhere,
and then he’d made enough ruckus in here to alert an army. At this rate he’d be lucky
if he kept Annie alive till sundown. Determination and a fierce rush of protectiveness
surged through him, putting him on the razor edge of readiness.

Kane made his move the split instant the intruder moved inside the door. In the space
of a heartbeat, he’d slammed him against the wall and held him there with an arm across
his solar plexus and a shiny, very lethal knife against the pulse on his neck.

Only it wasn’t a he.

Adrenaline pumping through him like a locomotive, combined with the instant understanding
of what he’d almost done, ripped his control to shreds. The result was a barrage of
bilingual swearing that put the fear of the devil in her eyes.

“Dammit, Annie!” he yelled finally, then still unable to regain control, he buried
his knife deep in the wood a foot above her head. He removed his arm from her chest
and pinned her to the wall by her wrists, pushing his nose straight up against hers.
“You promised to stay put.”

She gulped. Several times. Her eyes were wider than he’d ever seen. Her chest barely
moved as she fought to draw in a shallow breath.

He wasn’t having that problem. His heart was fighting its way out of his chest while
his lungs were yanking air in. Trying and failing to calm down, he slid her hands
upward until he could hold them over her head in one hand. With the other he gripped
her chin. He knew he was scaring her very badly, but dammit …! Very slowly, his voice
barely more than a ragged growl, he said, “I could have slit your throat.”

“I’m … sorry.” Her voice was a croak of sound.

“Sorry?” His tone was pure hard steel.

“I heard … the gunshot.” She shuddered. “The barn blocked my view.” Her eyes reflected
the wild anxiety she’d experienced, but he didn’t move.

“So you crept around the building, making enough noise to alert the dead.” Now he
shuddered. “What if it hadn’t been me in here? Huh? Did you stop to think you might
have walked in on the man your fiancé sent up here to kill you?”

Another tremor rippled through her. “I couldn’t wait,” was all she said. She gulped
again, her voice
taking on a slight quaver. “I had to know if you were okay,” she ended on a whisper.

“Well, I’m not.”

Her eyes widened farther, although with apprehension of an entirely different sort.
“You were … The bullet—?”

“No bullet. Just a woman who can’t keep a promise, taking years off my life by almost
ending hers. At my hands. Dammit, Annie.” His words ended on a ragged whisper. He
was still breathing hard, but the edge of his fury was wearing off.

“I tried. I meant to. But after the gunshot … I couldn’t wait up there forever. I’m
sorry I scared you.” Her voice faltered. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

His anger fled, but the intensity mounted. It hit him all at once. Her body pinned
between his bare chest and the wall. Her breasts brushing his damp skin now as she
drew deeper breaths. Her brown eyes staring at him as if in that moment, he was her
entire world, her only focus.

His body leapt in response.

Then it changed for her too. He saw it first in her eyes. The trepidation and apology
were slowly erased by the dawning of keen awareness. Awareness of the unique disadvantages
of her position. And of the equally unique advantages of his.

His blood pressure surged upward again along with another part of his anatomy, when
he saw the flicker of excitement dance in her eyes as the dangerous edge they were
walking on beckoned to her,
erotic and tempting. His pulse shattered its earlier speed the instant her lips parted
on a soft moan as temptation became acceptance.

All rational thought fled. Primordial. Visceral. Basic. That was the level he was
operating on now.

Keeping her wrists pinned to the wall with one hand, he reached over her head and
yanked the knife from the wall. He held it between them, the blade reflecting a glittering
silver in the black centers of her eyes.

“Do you trust me, Annie?”

She dipped her chin. “Yes,” she whispered.

He rested the flat edge of the blade tip on the bridge of her nose. “Still?”

“Yes.”

He slowly traced the blade down her nose, letting it rest briefly on the plump center
of her lower lip, exerting the slightest pressure. Her lips parted. He moved the blade
to her chin, down to the hollow at the base of her throat.

“And now?”

“Yes.” The word was raw, hoarse.

He lowered his gaze and trailed the shiny shaft between her breasts, the enticing
crevice made deeper by the knotted T-shirt she wore. “Then why didn’t you stay up
there, where I knew you were safe?”

He felt the shivers racing through her vibrate the blade. He held very still.

“I thought you were hurt.”

Kane wedged the tip of the blade into the knotted
fabric tied beneath her breasts. He risked a glance back to her face. Her eyes flared
with a sensual heat that rocked him, and pulsing just below the surface was frustration.
“I don’t underestimate you, little sun. There is a time for instinct, even for reckless
behavior.” He pushed the knife deeper into the knot. “But there is also a time when
I have to be able to count on you to do as I ask.”

A slight smile curved his lips. He knew how she felt. His frustration stemmed from
the same unmet need.

“I know.” Her breathing was becoming more erratic, the pulse in her throat fairly
vibrated the soft skin covering it. Yet she held his gaze, not flinching, not moving,
the light in her eyes not receding one damn bit.

Sweet Lord, how he wanted her. Needed her.

He flipped the knife suddenly, and the knot shredded. He saw her fight the instinctive
inhalation as her breasts were freed from the T-shirt’s restraint. The torn edges
draped over her sharply defined nipples, the ends hanging limply against her stomach.
She didn’t move.