KIDNAPPED COWBOY (6 page)

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Do you honestly think this retreat, and three short months in the summer, can make a real difference in a kid’s life?”

“I’ve seen it happen.”  There was no hesitation in her reply.

She pushed off the sofa and crossed the cabin to stand in front of the knotty pine bookshelves lining the far wall.  Reaching up, she pulled out what looked to be an old photo album.  Then, clutching it to her breasts, she carried it back to the sofa. 

He looked down at the dog-eared book held so lovingly in her hands.  “What’s this?”

“This is all the good things that have come out of this camp.”

She opened the album, showing him picture after picture of kids who had spent their summers at Stoney Brook over the years.  Beside each one was a more recent photograph of the teen.  Handwritten beneath was a special notation of what that teen had accomplished since their summer at Stoney Brook.  Things like graduating from high school and college, finding respectable jobs, anything to show they had turned their lives around. 

He regarded the album closely.  Seeing it laid out in front of him that way helped him understand what drove her to risk all for these kids. 

“Reckon that’s why my father started this camp,” he said, a knot of unexpected emotion lodging in his throat.

“I’m sure it is,” she said with a soft sigh.

He lifted his gaze, studying the delicate contours of her face.  “Did you know he was one of those so-called troubled teens?”

Green eyes snapped up to lock with his.  “Your father?  But I thought...”

“That he was born rich?”  Dalton shook his head.  “Nope.  He worked for everything he had.  He never said, but I have to believe someone like you helped him onto a better path in life, too.”

She reached out, placing a hand on his upper arm.  “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

He wanted to touch her back, but the cold metal biting into his wrists reminded him that was impossible.  “I promise you, Caitlin, that when we finally get out of here I’ll do what I can to change my brother’s mind.”

Her eyes lit up.  “You will?”

“I’m not promising he’ll listen to what I have to say.  My brother and I rarely see eye to eye on things.  But I’ll give it my best shot.”

She set the album aside and launched herself at him with an excited squeal.  Arms clasped about his neck, she pecked his cheek several times.  “Oh, Dalton, thank you!  Thank you so much!”

He gave a husky laugh, thoroughly enjoying her appreciation of his offer.  “No promises, remember?”

Suddenly, she gasped and pulled away, her cheeks flaming in contrast to her creamy skin.  “Sorry.  Did I happen to mention that I have a tendency to get overly enthusiastic about things?”

“Another good trait,” he teased.  Hell, he certainly wasn’t complaining.  Not when that enthusiasm was directed at him.  Grinning, he eased back and then winced.

Her smile faded.  “You’re hurting?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”  His hands were going numb anyhow which helped to ease the pain.

Caitlin’s kiss-me lips pulled down into a frown.  “Have you always resorted to this tough guy act when you’re hurting?  Or is this something you learned while riding the circuit?”

“Are you analyzing me?”

She gave an apologetic shrug.  “A hazard of the profession, I guess.”

“Just my luck, getting kidnapped by a therapist.”

The poor man.  He was in pain and it was all her fault.  Caitlin looked around with a frown, hoping she might spot the key lying on the floor somewhere.  No such luck.

“Maybe if I massage your shoulders it would help ease the pain,” she suggested, needing to do something to help.

“No need,” he replied, a bit too quickly.  “I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t.  I see you wince every time you move around.”  Standing, she walked around the sofa to stand behind him.

“Caitlin, what are you doing?”

She placed her hands atop his broad shoulders.  “What I can to make you feel better.”

He closed his eyes with a groan as she began kneading the taut muscles.

“Is this helping?”

His head dropped back, eyes still closed.  “Mmmm, yeah.”

Good.  She continued her ministrations while her gaze drifted appraisingly over Dalton’s tanned face.  Pure rugged masculinity from his square, unshaven jaw to his firm, sensual lips.  Dark, wavy hair hung wild, like the man himself, coming to rest at the open collar of his flannel shirt.  He had undoubtedly been a favorite of the Buckle Bunnies that followed the rodeo riders around from rodeo to rodeo.

He sighed his pleasure, drawing her from her thoughts.  Her gaze dropped to her fingers, curled so snugly atop his muscular shoulders.  This was so different from the aid she had given in the past to kids who’d gotten calve cramps while swimming in the lake.  This was a man.  Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift again, imagining what it would feel like to run her hands over Dalton’s bare shoulders.  His arms.  That chest.

“Uh, Caitlin...” 

Her eyes flew open to find him watching her and her hands stilled.  “Y...yes?” 

A slow, sexy grin slid across his tanned face.  “My chest is feeling pretty relaxed now.”

“What?” she muttered then looked down to see her hands pressed against the front of his shirt.  If ever there was a good time for the floor to give way and suck her in, this was it.

She immediately withdrew her hands and stepped away from the sofa, needing to distance herself from the temptation to touch him again.  Exhaustion and stress was clearly muddling her ability to think.

“I wasn’t trying to chase you away,” he said, still grinning.  “You just looked ready to drop.”

Yeah, right onto his lap.  That was where her fantasy might have taken her had he not of spoken and jerked her back to reality.

She retreated to the window.  “It’s late.  I...I’m a little tired.”

“Maybe you should get some rest.  Speaking of which, I don’t see a bed.”

She turned to him.  “You’re on it.”

“What?”

“The sofa pulls out into a bed.”

“You should have said something.”  He got to his feet and stepped away from the sofa. 

“I...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He lifted a brow, his grin widening.  “You afraid I’ll take advantage of you while you’re asleep?”

No, she was afraid she would take advantage of him.  Caitlin laughed off his suggestion.  “Hardly.”

“Then what are you waiting for?  Pull out the bed.  I’d help, but I’m a little indisposed at the moment.”

“There’s really no hurry.”  She plopped herself back down onto the sofa.  “I’m not that tired.  Why don’t we just sit here and kiss a little?”

His dark brow lifted.  “What?”

She let out a shriek of embarrassment.  “Talk!  I meant talk a little.”

Dalton chuckled, the corners of his blue eyes creasing with mirth.  “I like your first suggestion better.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” she replied with a groan.  “That was a slip of the tongue.”

“Hmm, slip of the tongue, eh?”

“Don’t even go there,” she said, her warning ending in a yawn.

“Come on, Caitlin, you’re exhausted.  I’m tired.  It’s not like you’re in any danger from me.  You’re the kidnapper and I’m handcuffed, remember?”

“I suppose you’re right,” she conceded with another yawn.   

He stepped out of her way as she tugged the cushions from the sofa.  “Might as well get comfortable.  Who knows how long we’re gonna be stuck in this place.”

Grabbing onto the pull bar, Caitlin tugged at the frame, carefully unfolding the bed.  “Let me grab some sheets.”  She walked over to the cabinet where the linens were kept and then set to making the bed. 

“Hope it’s softer than it looks,” Dalton said when she was done. 

“It is,” she assured him. 

He settled onto one side of the mattress with a deep sigh of pleasure, tucking his arms behind his head.  “Now that’s comfort.”

A hot, sexy cowboy, handcuffed in her bed.  At least, this was her bed when camp was open.  Every woman’s dream.  Except for her.  Seeing as how she’d just kidnapped the brother of the very man who held her camp’s future in his hands this fell more into the nightmare you want to wake up from category. 

“You gonna stand there and stare at me all night or you gonna try and get some sleep?”

She felt a rush of warmth surge up her neck.  “I...I wasn’t staring at you.”

He flashed her that bone-melting grin of his.  “Okay, ogling me.  I was trying to be polite.”

“In your dreams!”  With a huff of indignation, she walked around the bed and settled onto the opposite side of the mattress, as close to the edge as she could get without falling off.

The mattress shifted beneath her as Dalton rolled onto his side to look at her.  His movement was followed by a metallic click.  “What the...”

She looked over just as Dalton raised his arm, a now empty cuff dangling from his other cuffed wrist.

His blue eyes rounded and then swung up to latch onto hers.

With a gasp, Caitlin shot upright.  The giant was free.

“These are play handcuffs?” Dalton muttered in disbelief as he dangled the metal restraints in the air between them.

“There’s a difference?”

He bit back a curse and replied through clenched teeth, “A big one.”

She sat staring up at them in stunned silence.

He sat up and worked the other one open.  “You see, play handcuffs have release latches on them in case the key somehow gets lost.”

“Oh,” she replied, her plump pink lips forming a perfect “o”.  Then she drew in her bottom lip, nibbling on it anxiously.

Dalton bit back a groan.  Did she have to look so damn sexy while he was considering strangling her pretty little neck?

“Oh?  That’s all you have to say?”  His own lips thinned in irritation as he leaned toward her.  “I’ve just spent several long, very uncomfortable hours trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and the only thing you can come up with is ‘oh’!”

She scooted away, attempting to put more distance between them, but only succeeded in teetering at the edge of the not-so-firm mattress.

“Caitlin!” he called out as she went over.  He dove for her across the bed, but it was too late.  Momentum and the current weakened state of his arm had him following right behind.

Air whooshed from her lungs as she landed on the hardwood floor below.

Instinctively, Dalton drew up a knee to keep from crushing her beneath his much larger frame, effectively breaking his fall.  His pained grunt followed, echoing in the tiny room.

“Dalton?”  She gasped as he braced himself above her.  “Are you all right?”

Being around this woman was proving to be more hazardous to his health than bull riding ever was.  “I’m fine,” he lied, even as his knee throbbed in protest. 

“Thank goodness.” 

“The question is are you okay?” he asked, looking down at her with concern.  “That was quite a spill you took.” 

“I...I’m fine.”  Her gaze centered on his mouth.  Then, she did the most torturous thing she could have done to a man whose lower torso was pressed against hers and whose mouth was just a few scant inches from those fleshy, pink lips.  She ran her tongue across her lips to wet them.

And he thought super glue got hard fast.  Biting back a curse, he scrambled to his feet, no longer bothered by the pain in his knee.  That ache had moved north. 

Shifting his stance to hide the evidence of his desire, he held out his hand.  “What do you say we try this again?  Getting some sleep, that is.”

As if sleep was a possibility for him at that point.

She nodded her reply, taking the hand he offered.

He pulled her to her feet, expending very little effort in doing so.  She was a tiny thing, probably lived on things like lettuce and carrots.  Foods he carefully avoided, being more of a meat and potatoes kind of guy.

His gaze took in her slender form.  Someone needed to teach this woman how to eat.  “Remind me to take you out to dinner when we get back to town.”

“Are you asking me out?”

He nodded.  “Reckon you could call it that.  You aren’t married, are you?”

She laughed as she reached down to dust herself off.  “Hardly.”

That soft laughter drifted through him, warming him from the inside out.  “Glad to hear it.”

“I know you didn’t hit your head when you fell a minute ago, so this has to be an old rodeo head injury making you say something so crazy.”

“Wanting to take you out to eat is crazy?”

“It is when I’m your kidnapper,” she replied.  “Or have you forgotten?”

He gave a husky laugh.  “Not anymore.”  He waved his free wrists in front of her.  “Now, mind you, I suffered more than a few concussions over the years, but nothing permanent I assure you.  I’m just a man who knows what he wants and goes after it.”

She propped a hand on her hip and eyed him suspiciously.  “And you want me?”

“It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me or anything,” he quickly clarified.  “That’s the last thing a man like myself would ever consider, but I gotta eat.  No since doing it alone.”  He moved around the bed to the side he’d been sitting on before they’d taken their tumble.

A slender brow arched as she sat watching him.  “A man like you?”

“The kind who likes to live footloose and fancy free, experience the world without any confining ties to hold him back.”

“Oh, you mean the kind of man who’s afraid to put down roots?”

His expression darkened as he sank back against the sofa cushion.  “My decision not to marry has nothing to do with fear.”  And everything.  He was determined not to end up like his father had.  A man who chose wealth over family. 

“Are you sure about that?” she prodded as if he were lying on the patient sofa in a therapist’s office. 

Come to think of it, he was lying on a sofa, one that was now a bed, and she was a therapist.  Pushing that thought aside, he said, “You’re reading too much into this.  I just like my life the way it is.  Being able to pick up and go whenever I feel like it.”

“Then why ask me out?”

That was a good question.  One he wasn’t certain he knew the answer to.  “Because I...like you?”