Colorado Bodyguard (16 page)

“You're supposed to be asleep,” the guard said.

“I'm having trouble sleeping. I sent the other guard to the house to get me my pills.”

“He's not supposed to leave you unguarded,” he said.

“Oh, it'll be all right. Who's going to find me down here?”

The guard grunted. “It's just as well you're awake. We brought you some company.”

“Company?” Lauren sounded puzzled.

“She says she's your sister.” Rand, watching from beneath the bed, stared in horror as a second man entered the room, dragging a bound-and-gagged Sophie behind him.

“You two can have a little reunion,” the first guard said, and pushed Sophie onto the bed beside Lauren. Then the men left.

As soon as the guards were gone, Rand and Marco rolled from beneath the bed. Lauren was already kneeling beside her sister, struggling with her bonds.

Rand stripped off the tape over Sophie's mouth while Marco cut the ties on her wrists. “Lauren!” she cried, hugging her sister close.

The two women cried and exclaimed, until Marco finally interrupted. “We have to get out of here,” he said.

“Are you all right?” Rand put an arm around Sophie, feeling her tremble. “Did they hurt you?”

She shook her head, but tears streamed down her cheeks. “But I'm afraid they shot Lotte. She did what you said she would do. She tried to protect me. But they had guns...”

His chest constricted as he thought of the dog, but he shoved the emotions aside. He had to focus on the situation at hand, on Sophie and Lauren and helping them escape.

They started back the way they had come, but skidded to a stop when they spotted not one, but two guards in the passage ahead. “Is there another way out?” Marco asked.

“There's the passage to the house,” Lauren said. “There's no guard there, since the only place it goes is the house.”

“Let's go,” Rand said. “Once there, we can steal a vehicle and get away faster.”

They rushed along the passage Lauren indicated, sacrificing stealth for speed. But one of the guards must have heard them and sounded the alarm. Marco grabbed Lauren's hand and pulled her forward. “Faster!” he commanded.

Sophie grasped Rand's hand and they hurried to keep up, but Lauren and Marco were faster and the two couples soon became separated. “Which way did they go?” Sophie asked.

Rand stopped and studied the dust at their feet. In the dark passageway it was impossible to make out distinct footprints. “Marco!” he shouted.

But the only answer was a deafening explosion that knocked him off his feet, and a shower of boulders crashed down around them.

Chapter Sixteen

Sophie came to, aching and disoriented in the darkness, choking in the dust. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the stone floor, willing memory to return. Back at Rand's duplex, after she'd been wrapped in the blanket, someone had stuffed her into the backseat of a vehicle while a second person bound her wrists and ankles. They'd driven for some time, then bumped down a rough road. Her captors cut the ties at her ankles so that she could walk, but gagged her and kept her wrapped in the blanket until she stood outside the passage that led to Sophie's room.

Tears streamed down her face as she remembered the shock and delight of seeing her sister at last, and Rand there with her.

Rand! Where was he? She felt all around her in the darkness until she encountered cloth, hard muscle and bone beneath. “Rand!” She curled her fingers around whatever part of the body she held. “Rand, please tell me you're all right.”

“Sophie?” He tried to sit up, then fell back, moaning. She felt her way up his body to his head and caressed his face with her hands, then kissed his cheek. “Rand, wake up,” she pleaded.

“I'm awake.” His voice sounded strained.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “Are you hurt?”

“I got a bump on the head, but I'm okay.” He levered himself up on his elbow. “I'm going to roll over. You reach into my pack and get a light so we can see our situation better.”

“Okay.”

He rolled onto his side and she sat up and felt in the outer pocket of his pack for the mini Maglite he told her she'd find there. When she switched it on she had to look away at first, it was so bright.

She handed the light to Rand and he sat up and shone it around them. They were in one end of a chamber blasted from the rock, the entrance and the other end of the space filled with fallen rock. “What happened?” she asked.

“Maybe the guards set off some kind of charge to collapse the tunnels.” He continued to shine the light on the tumble of rock. “Maybe that was the plan.”

“You mean Prentice would rather kill Lauren than let her escape?” It sounded like something out of a horror movie or something.

“If she's dead, she can't testify against him,” Rand said. “And if she's buried in an old mine, the chances of us finding her are slim to none.”

She choked back a sob. “Lauren can't be dead,” she said. “Not when we've only just found her.”

He gripped her arm. “Don't give up hope yet,” he said. “We made it okay. And she's with Marco. He'll look after her.”

She clutched his hand, trying to hang on to some of his calm, as well. “What do we do now?” she asked.

He slipped off his pack and pulled his radio from the belt at his side. “It's too far underground to transmit,” he said, “but maybe headquarters can get a ping. They'll realize something has happened and come looking. Meanwhile, let's see if we can find a way out of here.”

Together, they moved to the rubble-filled end of the chamber. He used the light to inspect every crevice between the rocks, but none revealed open space beyond. Sophie clawed at the rocks, trying to dislodge them. Maybe they could dig their way out—

Rand put a hand on her arm. “Stop. You're going to hurt yourself.” He led her to the other side of the passage and spread his jacket for them to sit on. “The best thing to do is rest and wait.”

“Wait for what?” she asked.

“Rescue. Someone will come for us, I'm sure.”

“How can you be sure?”

“You heard the captain. We're all in this together. A team. You don't leave a team member behind.”

She wanted to believe him, but she had no experience with that kind of loyalty. For so much of her life she and Lauren had only had each other. And Sophie was the dependable one, the sister who almost always came to the rescue. Except that now she was helpless to rescue Lauren, or herself.

“I can't believe Prentice was keeping Lauren prisoner down here,” she said. “Why? It's not as if he could expect a big ransom for her or anything.”

“Apparently he believed he could make her marry him if he kept her long enough,” Rand said.

“But that's insane. And he looks so...so ordinary.”

“I guess some sick minds can live under ordinary exteriors. But according to her he didn't mistreat her—he just wouldn't let her leave.”

“She looked the same as always. Beautiful.”

“I prefer the darker, quieter ones.” Rand took her hand and squeezed it.

She smiled, even though he probably couldn't see it in the dark. She knew she wasn't beautiful like Lauren, but Rand made her feel beautiful. Special. She leaned against him, her hand wrapped in his. “If this had to happen, I'm glad I'm with you,” she said.

“It's kind of nice to have some time alone with you.” He smoothed his hand along her shoulder. “Not exactly the most romantic setting, though.”

“I don't know about that.” She snuggled closer. “It's dark. And private.” He'd propped the flashlight against the rocks so that it cast an indirect golden glow, like a wall sconce, giving just enough light for her to make out his form, without a lot of details.

He turned his face toward hers and she kissed him. What she'd meant as a brief buss transformed into a long, lingering caress—contact that said all the things she could find no words for.

He cradled her face in both hands. “I've never met anyone like you,” he said.

“You mean stubborn and afraid and crazy?” She tried to laugh, but the sound came out too shaky, revealing how important his answer was to her.

“I mean determined and brave and loyal. Amazing.” He drew her to him in a deep, breath-stealing kiss, his hands sliding down her arms, then up her sides to cup her breasts, which felt swollen and heated at his touch.

She opened her mouth in a gasp and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sweeping over her lips, teasing into her mouth, enticing and erotic. She arched to him, wanting to be closer. Wanting more.

He slid his mouth from hers, and pressed his lips to her temple. “Maybe we should stop now,” he said, his voice ragged.

Everything about this was wrong—the location, the timing, their clothes. Making love to Rand had felt inevitable for a while now, but she'd imagined candlelight and crisp sheets, soft music and silk, not rock walls and dirt floors, dusty jeans and dried blood. But being with him was the only good thing she had to hold on to now. Denying each other the one thing they wanted most seemed stupid. They might not have much time left; they might as well use that time for something good.

She unbuttoned the top button of his uniform shirt, resisting the urge to tear it from him. “I want this,” she said. “More than I've ever wanted anything.”

“I want it, too.” He caressed her shoulders. “But you deserve better than this.”

“Shhh.” She pressed her lips to the triangle of exposed chest her unbuttoning had revealed. He tasted of sweat and dust. “This isn't about what either of us deserves.”

He pulled her tight against him and kissed her, a hard, bruising kiss full of longing and regret. She cradled his head in her hands and opened her mouth to him, tangling her tongue with his, letting her need for him fill her and drive out the fear.

He slid both hands beneath her shirt, skimming along her ribs, then pushing her bra out of the way to cup her breasts, squeezing gently. The ridge of his erection pressed against her stomach; she could feel the heat even through the layers of cloth separating them. She reached down and rubbed her hand along the evidence of his desire, eliciting a groan of frustration from him.

He grasped her arms and held them over her head, then tugged off her shirt and bra, leaving her naked from the waist up. Goose bumps formed along her flesh, and she automatically tried to cover herself, but he kept hold of her arms, pulling them away. “You are so beautiful,” he said, and bent to kiss the top of one breast, then the other.

She gasped when he drew her nipple into his mouth, the suction pulling between her legs. “Rand,” she breathed, but he only suckled harder, leaving her light-headed and trembling.

He lowered the zipper of her jeans and slid his hand in to cup her over her underwear. She fumbled the rest of his shirt buttons loose and pushed the fabric away from his chest, then stilled, staring at what the parted fabric revealed.

He stilled also, and lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. “I got my first tat when I was nineteen,” he said. “I've been adding on ever since.”

With one finger, she traced the lines of black ink: mountains and waves following the contours of his muscles, trees and rocks and animals inscribed across his torso and chest in an intricate mural. “It's beautiful,” she said. “But not what I expected.”

“I'm just full of surprises.” He unbuckled his belt. “I can't wait to show you more.”

They helped each other out of their clothes, even that mundane activity made sensual by the thrill of hands touching places they hadn't allowed themselves to touch before, revealing flesh they had never seen before. He made a pallet of their clothes on the floor and urged her down beside him. Side by side, they traced the contours of each other's bodies, exploring each peak and valley, discovering a map that was uniquely theirs. He learned she had had an appendectomy when she was twenty-four, and he had fallen while climbing a mountain at nineteen, leaving a jagged scar as a permanent reminder of that adventure.

He surprised her by stopping at one point and retrieving a condom from his pack. “It's not what you think,” he said. “They make great temporary canteens.”

She laughed. “Sure they do.” She lay back and beckoned to him. “I don't care why you have one, just that you have one.”

He kneeled beside her and ripped open the package, then sheathed himself. She held her breath as she watched him, her whole body tensed with need for him. When he positioned himself between her legs, she arched to him, all shyness vanished. “Hurry,” she whispered.

She was more than ready for him, and the sensation of him filling her almost sent her over the edge. She tightened around him and he shaped his hands to her buttocks and pulled her even closer. “Look at me,” he said.

She stared into his eyes, and the grimness of their surroundings, the rock and sand and darkness, receded. She lost herself in those intense brown eyes, and in the waves of desire buffeting her with each powerful thrust of his body. His hands caressed as his body moved, the need within her coiling tighter and tighter. “Don't hold back,” he urged, so she didn't, and her climax rocketed through her, stripping away the last fragment of fear and hesitation that had bound her.

She clung to him, stroking his back, his chest, leaning forward to trace her tongue along the line of a tattooed mountain range. As she dragged her tongue across the flat brown nipple half-hidden in the lines of the artwork, he cried out his own release and convulsed against her. She held him tightly, eyes closed, listening to the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, bringing them back to themselves.

They lay in each other's arms, their discarded clothes drawn around them as makeshift bedding. “Is it all right if I switch off the flashlight?” he asked. “We need to save the batteries.”

“All right.” She closed her own eyes, but even that didn't shut out the depth of the darkness when he switched off the little light. Only the solid feel of his chest against the side of her face, and the hard muscle of his arms pulling her to him, kept her grounded. “What do we do now?” she asked.

“I don't know. I only had the one condom.”

She laughed, something she would never have thought she could do, considering the circumstances. “That's disappointing news,” she said. “But I meant, what are we going to do about getting out of here?”

“I don't know yet, but we'll figure something out. For now, we need to sleep. We'll think better when we're rested.”

“All right.” She lay still, sure she'd never be able to relax, but gradually sleep did steal over her. In the security of Rand's arms, she relaxed. Later, they'd think of something. They didn't have any choice.

* * *

S
OPHIE
 
WOKE
 
TO
 
A
 
LOW
, groaning noise, like some ancient animal moving in the depths of the cavern. “Rand!” She shook him, hard. “Rand, wake up!”

He shifted beneath her, sitting up, his arm still around her, pulling her up with him. “What is it?” he asked, his voice only a little groggy.

“That noise. What is it?”

They listened, and it came again, a long, low moan, primitive and chilling. Rand switched on the light and began sorting through their clothes. “Get dressed,” he said. “Hurry.”

She pulled on underwear and pants and reached for her shirt. “What is it?” she asked, his anxious expression feeding her own fear. “Is it some kind of animal?”

“No animal.” He buttoned his shirt halfway, then pulled on his pack. “It's the tunnels. Timbers shifting.”

“The tunnels? I don't understand.” She sat and began pulling on her shoes.

“We need to shelter along the wall, where the rock is thickest.” He pulled her to her feet. “I think we might be in for another cave-in.”