Mary Wine (8 page)

* * * * *

That damn fear was trying to rise again. Roshelle thrust it down. She was going to find Christina! She could feel those green eyes on her. Despite her determination to seek her goal, there was no way she could disregard her sense of self-preservation. This was not a man to turn your back on.

“Return to your room.”

That deep voice sailed at her out of the darkness. He stopped just short of her field of vision.

“I want to see Christina.”

“No.”

His voice carried a note that indicated he expected complete obedience to his order. Setting her eyes on the night, she searched for him. Her eyes couldn’t find him, but her mind could. Her brain stung with the knowledge of his company. She had made it this far by calling his bluff, maybe it was time to call another one.

He melted from the darkness ‘til less than three feet separated them, forcing her to tip her head back to lock eyes with him.

“I was the victim. Not the enemy. I won’t stay locked up like some prisoner.”

The damn thing was her brown eyes looked so honest. Jared ground his teeth together again.

“That being the case, I wouldn’t advise leaving this compound.”

Roshelle jumped as a new voice issued that warning. She had been completely intent on her opponent. The second man must have stepped up from behind her. Swinging her head about, she felt her jaw drop open in response to the sight that greeted her.

Shane stood as Roshelle gaped at him. Six-foot-ten wasn’t something most people could resist staring at. At five-foot-six, her head only reached him mid-chest.

“Save your concern. Christina and I will be just fine.”

“Those torn-up wrists tell you that?”

The bandages covering her wrists were a blatant reminder of just how helpless she had been. She just wasn’t sure she was any better off now. These were not the kindly neighbors that a girl could feel at ease relying on.

No, it was a little more like discovering grizzly bears in your backyard. Coexistence was completely out of the question!

“I’m sure the sheriff’s department can handle it.”

Jared considered his opponent. They had unfinished business. Keeping her neatly secured on his mountain sounded just right to his ears. A slow grin split his face as he considered his prey. To get to the sheriff, she would have to get off his property. No one crossed the border without Shane’s or his approval.

“Benton is twenty-six miles south.”

Just like that? The grin that sat on his face reminded her of a crocodile as it waited for lunch to venture too close to its jaws.

“Don’t mind the border patrol. Their orders are to keep anyone from crossing the border. As long as you don’t do that…”

He
stepped closer with each word. Her face flushed with shame at her cowardly retreat from him. She really tried not to ask just what would happen, the pure joy expressed on his face told her he was setting her up for a fall.

But she had to know…

“What?”

“They won’t shoot you.”

Chapter Six

Lately Roshelle had noticed just how slow time could move when you were waiting for a nightmare to end. Despite her numerous self-directed lectures, she still drew the line at testing
his
latest threat.

Maybe it was the very real fact that she had recently discovered just what being shot at felt like. More than likely it was the sight of those “boys” as they changed shifts every twelve hours.

The men in question would load into a truck with their rifles cradled in their arms just like babies. Hard-cut faces coupled with bodies that long ago bid farewell to childhood. In fact, the type of males that inhabited this mountain was causing Roshelle to redefine her concept of just what “men” were. The doctors and friends she thought of as men just didn’t fit into this category.

Maybe it had been the lack of sleep. But Roshelle suddenly knew exactly what the difference was about this bunch of captors.

They were not planning on killing her.

While there was still a lot of room for unpleasant alternatives, the fact that she wasn’t facing a bullet anytime soon lifted an amazing amount of tension from her shoulders.

Unfortunately, as soon as her fear of impending death was appeased, doubt rushed in to fill her mind. Maybe these people didn’t have an unmarked grave picked out for her but they were far from friendly.

Especially
him
.

A frown crept across her face. The man must have a name. Considering just how familiar he had made himself with her mind, it seemed rather unfair not to know his name.

A short laugh escaped her throat. Fair? Life was anything but fair to her lately. So… If it was a name that she wanted to know, Roshelle doubted that she would find the answer inside this room.

No, if she wanted something from these people, she would have to go after it. Even something as simple as a name. Weakness wasn’t something that earned rewards here.

Roshelle stood with her body in the doorway. Conforming to the rules of her current companions wasn’t sitting in her stomach very well.

Thrusting her chin forward, she set her feet into motion. She may not like the house rules, but there was no way she would ever get back to the real world if she didn’t face
him
again.

In an odd way, she was almost looking forward to another encounter with her dream specter. Each time she faced up to him, he lost a bit more of his nightmare edge. Maybe it was a little too much like a child checking under her bed before turning out the light, but Roshelle would take what she could get.

She would go out and look her monster in the face. Just maybe she could find the courage to spit in his eye while she was at it!

* * * * *

“I sure hope that sweet thing is looking at me.”

“Well, just as soon as she looks me over, you won’t have a prayer.”

“Think those tits are real?”

“Who the hell cares?”

Good grief, was there some law of nature that just insisted that men be larger at this elevation? Roshelle had run across tall men before in her life but every single one she faced was over six feet! It wasn’t just the height. Their chests were coated with thick muscles that made them more imposing.

Forcing herself forward, she stuck to her course.
He
was sitting among a group of six men, all of which seemed to be employed with the task of cleaning the ever-present rifles. The black weapons were firmly held across their laps, with a piece or two neatly laid aside, while fingers worked at the open barrels.

Jared dug his fingers into the weapon he held. The fact that she had gathered the courage to seek him out almost made him nod in approval. But his men’s comments rubbed him wrong. Roshelle did have the sweetest pair of tits under that top, but it sure as hell wasn’t their business.

Coming to a halt, Roshelle stared at the object of her dilemma. The men that surrounded him she ignored. They plastered over bright grins to their rough faces, as she came closer. It didn’t take a beauty queen to know just what was on their minds.

But she didn’t need maturity to tell her what
he
was thinking. Her cheeks flushed with heat as his mind connected with hers. Blatant arousal hit her stomach as she felt her nipples bead and lift. Heat spread down her body ‘til it reached her belly. A grin lifted the corners of his firm lips as he raised a single eyebrow at her.

The men surrounding him suddenly sat up straighter. Their grins brightened even more brilliantly as their eyes mirrored their increased interest. It was a look that Roshelle had committed to memory. Spinning about, she let a smile cross her own face. Christina was scrambling up the hillside in her direction.

Thank God! Roshelle swung around in relief. A harsh laugh rumbled out of
his
chest making her temper fume. But Roshelle didn’t dare turn around. Most men only guessed that a woman was turned on. This one knew without a doubt how weak her body was. But the worst part was the way he let his own emotions flow between them. His desire fed her raging needs, making it impossible to resist the urge to get closer to him.

Joy was the only way to describe the embrace the two women shared. Roshelle completely dismissed him as she sprinted to her friend’s outstretched arms. Jared shifted as his pants cut into his erection. Her sweet little bottom made his mouth water. The link between their minds made the need painful because it was impossible to ignore. Roshelle was running from it and all he wanted to do was chase her.

It was a harsh and primitive urge that rode him hard. A psychic mated on more than just the physical level. Roshelle offered him a true partnership in intimacy. Their minds could mingle as completely as their bodies.

The women walked away as Jared resumed cleaning his rifle. He should just let her go back to her civilian life. His staff throbbed so he stood up. He shouldered the gun as he let his legs carry him away from the men. His body was pulsing with need. Hunger gnawed at his principles as he forced himself to walk away from Roshelle.

Life could be a real bitch at times.

* * * * *

“What’s burning?”

Pulling her friend further into the house, Christina sent her another smile.

“I’m cooking.”

“Christina dear, last time I checked, you can’t even define the word cook.”

Dropping into a chair, Roshelle regarded her friend. Christina gave a familiar toss of her head before she turned her attention to whatever culinary masterpiece she was creating at the kitchen rangetop. Multiple pots sat atop the burners and she lifted lids as she surveyed her work.

“Yes, but Shane Jacobs doesn’t know that. Nor does the brute.” Her friend sent her an evil grin before tossing a wooden spoon into the sink. “Shane suggested I keep myself busy in the kitchen. Lord forbid I try and disagree.”

All right, so she was a coward. But when faced with a choice of her friend or
him
, Roshelle tucked tail and ran away. Well, she’d take her friend’s company over
him
, any day.

“So what now, Doctor?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Dropping a lid back onto its pot, Christina swung her blue eyes around to her companion.

“Your track record is a lot better than mine. All I managed to do was get myself kidnapped. For a modern woman, you haven’t done too bad at getting us out of it.”

“Right up ‘til we ended up here.” Pushing to her feet, Roshelle surveyed the view the kitchen window offered. While the men still sat with their weapons
, he
was not with them any longer. The hair on her neck rose slightly, there was something comforting about keeping that man in her sights.

“It’s a definite step up from our last host.”

Was it? Roshelle just didn’t quite know. But she had no way of explaining her encounters with
him
to Christina. At least not without explaining a whole lot more.

“I just wish I had a clue as to where we are.”

“Shelly, you have got to get out more often.”

Turning around, Roshelle tried to comprehend the amusement on her friend’s face. There was nothing funny about their imprisonment.

“We’re right smack on Witch Mountain. How could you not know that?”

“Well, my jailer hasn’t bothered to introduce himself!”

Shaking her head, Christina began to rummage around in the cabinets. “I forget you never really dated much.” She pulled spices from one and began to dump several different types into the same pot. She didn’t bother to read the labels either.

“Meaning?”

“The Jacobs family shows up in the Yankee camp from time to time. That giant is their oldest boy Shane.”

“Christina, that man is no boy!”

A slight grin crossed her face before she replied. “Trust me Shelly, if it’s male, it is guaranteed to never mature. The packaging is irrelevant.”

“All right, so these are actually civilized people. At least one is. What do they want us for?”

“I think the jury might still be out.”

“Down on my end of this compound, I’ve been waiting for the execution order to come through any second.”

“Yes, well the Campbell children always were an intense bunch.”

“As in Sheriff Campbell?”

Christina simply nodded her head as she lifted the empty plate from the table. Roshelle had known that Brice Campbell owned the land bordering her grandmother’s but she never knew the man was married.

“I didn’t know the sheriff had a family.”

But she had grown up with just Abba so maybe it wasn’t a secret. Abba was polite to a fault but she preferred a quiet life. Weekends at Jennings Mill were just about the most excitement she ever sought out. Other than Christina, Roshelle herself had not encouraged much social contact. She just never felt her life lacked anything. The few boys that expressed interest she had been content to see only at the monthly historical events. Without encouragement, none of the would-be suitors had ever pressed their cases.

“I think he has three boys. But I never really met them.”

That little fact wasn’t much of a stumbling block for her friend. It never ceased to amaze Roshelle the number of girls that were willing to share secrets with the blonde beauty in an attempt to share her appeal with the male population.

The very idea that there might be another two men like her specter was not sitting on her nerves well. Roshelle pushed the disturbing thought aside. She had enough current troubles. There was no need to go looking for possible future ones.
He
was the only one she needed to get past.

One step at a time. Getting off this mountain might not be all that difficult. The threat of shooting her might be nothing more than another bluff.

Roshelle just wished that it wasn’t such a big “if”.