Pure Dynamite (24 page)

Without pausing, she boosted herself up and swung out the window.

Renata clawed the air uselessly, hitting the ground harder than expected.

Pain exploded in her left ankle. She tumbled backwards, smashing into the woodpile and touching off an avalanche of split oak.

When she finally skidded to a stop, she gulped in air. Each breath fanned a fire in her body. She wanted to scream; knew she couldn't.

Her shirt was shredded, torn; the skin beneath raw and scraped. She pressed her fingertips gingerly along her ribs. They were sore but none were cracked.

Her ankle, though, worried her. It throbbed and was already swelling. She quickly checked for broken bones, moved the joint experimentally. Not broken, but definitely sprained.

Woozy, she climbed to her feet, struggling to remain upright, determined to get away. But when she placed weight on her ankle, pain shot up her left leg. She closed her eyes, fighting a sharp need to cry out.

She hobbled a step or two and had to stop. Damn it! At this rate Adam would catch her before she'd gone ten feet. He wouldn't even need Nevin's help.

Time was running out. Biting her lip, she just went for it. "Remember Jim," she murmured.

A three-quarter moon illuminated the small swath of
yard that had been carved from the surrounding dense woods. With her ankle slowing her, she wouldn't make it far in the dark forest. In fact, her only chance of getting help lay in making it to the main highway where she could flag down a car.

She circled toward the front, heading for the road. The cabin remained eerily quiet, making her wonder if they'd even realized she was gone.

The wet ground and thatched undergrowth were hard to navigate but finally she reached the road. She increased her speed, grateful for the mud that muffled the crunch of gravel.

When she looked back seconds later, the cabin was no longer visible. Yes! She was going to make it! She had escaped... alive and relatively unharmed.

Encouraged, she started to turn away. A movement caught her attention.

Adam!

Still twenty yards back, he ran toward her. Panicked, Renata tried to jog, but nearly toppled. She switched to an uneven hop.

At home, she ran four miles daily. In an even match she could probably outmaneuver him. But right now he had the advantage. He wasn't injured and he had Nevin helping. Both men were armed.

Her only chance lay in concealment. She turned toward the woods. A rain-filled ditch paralleled the roadbed. Undaunted, she slogged through it, shocked to find the water nearly waist deep. She struggled to the opposite incline. Grabbing at tangled weeds, she pulled herself up the slippery bank, ignoring the pain.

Clouds scudded over the moon. She welcomed the small break, knew the enhanced darkness would help hide her in the woods. She was almost there.

A strong hand grabbed the back of her shirt.

"Renata, stop!"

"No!" She surged forward. "Let me go!"

Adam tightened his grip, yanking her backwards. The wet fabric of her shirt ripped costing him his hold.

The unexpected momentum of being released made Renata lose her balance. She pitched forward awkwardly, grasping her ruined shirt with one hand as she struggled to regain her footing. Staggering, she leaped away.

He tackled her, hugging her close as they hit the ground and rolled down the embankment toward the ditch. They stopped just short of the water, Adam on top, Renata trapped beneath his large frame.

She sank into the wet ground her scraped side burning. The disappointment over not getting away cut to the bone, crushing her tenuous hold on her temper.

She drew back and punched him. "Let me go, damn you!"

He caught her wrists, yanking them over her head and pinning them.

"Give it up," he shouted hoarsely. "You don't stand a chance against me. You never did."

"And what about my friend? Did Jim have a chance before Lyle shot him?" She looked away, not wanting him to see how close she was to breaking down.

"Nothing I can do will bring your friend back," he said finally. "I'm sorry."

His sincere tone—regret? remorse?—clashed with her image of him as a ruthless criminal.
But Adam hadn't pulled the trigger.
Lyle had.

"You can do what's right now," she pleaded. "Release me."

"I can't."

Tears of mourning, of frustration, rolled down her cheeks. Once started the sobs were hard to stop.

Adam bent closer, whispering sounds of comfort. No words because he didn't have any. Just soothing noises. He let her cry, using the time to rein in his own emotions. If she had gotten away, alerted police ... his case would have been blown. And he was so damn close to success.

"We have to go back," he said. "Come on."

"No!" With a renewed vigor, she tried one more time to wrestle free.

"Have it your way." He countered by simply letting his full weight ease against her.

Renata yelped as if in pain. Adam eyed her suspiciously. He had underestimated this woman once. He wouldn't do it again. Wary, he rolled to his feet, tugging her with him. He kept his hands vised around her wrists, expecting a trick.

The moon broke free, offering the palest light. Only then did he notice where her shirt was ripped. The front gaped open, revealing a torn lace bra, a bare breast. Blood trickled along her cleavage.

"You're hurt." Loosening his grip, he flicked the torn edge of her shirt up, covering her.

"Leave me alone!" She tried to put weight on her ankle, but swayed, nearly fell.

He steadied her. "Correction: You're hurt bad."

"Good thing I'm a doctor."

"Is it your knee?"

She grimaced. "My ankle."

"Is it broken?"

"Sprained."

Without another word, he scooped her up. "What the—" He shifted his hand lower. "It feels like your side is bleeding, too. I assume you checked for broken ribs?"

"Yes."
"You're lucky you didn't kill yourself."

"And deny you the privilege?"

The remark stung. Adam glanced at the cabin, saw Nevin waiting for them on the front porch. He recalled their prior conversation. Nevin had made it clear that his father wanted Renata dead as soon as she was no longer useful. In fact, Adam suspected that was the reason for Nevin's visit. Until he saw how sick Lyle was. And how attractive Renata was.

When Nevin had expressed interest, Adam had declared her off limits, making it clear that her usefulness included serving him.
"She's mine to do with as I please. We have a score to settle—she tried to stab me. So I'll get rid of her when I'm ready."

"I've told you, you'll come out of this okay. You have to follow my orders, though." Adam glanced down, saw part of her breast again. "And fix your shirt, damn it! Unless you want him to see."

"Could he be any worse?" She struggled to pull the edges of her shirt and ripped bra together.

"You don't want to know."

They reached the porch. Nevin held the cabin door open. "Hurt yourself, princess?"

His leering grin gave Renata creep bumps, reminded her the worst was yet to come. She fought the tears of self-pity and defeat that prickled her eyes. It was bad enough she'd wept earlier with Adam, but she refused to let Nevin see her cry.

Adam set her on the couch. After removing her shoe, he examined her ankle. It was swollen and bruised.

"Sore?"

"No."

He ran his fingers along the bottom of her foot. She nearly shot off the couch.

"Liar."

"I'll get ice," Nevin volunteered.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked when they were alone.

"Take care of your injuries."

"That's not what I meant."

"Are you worried I plan to punish you?"

"Yes."

"Looks like you did enough of that already."

"What about him?" Her gaze darted toward the kitchen, where Nevin banged ice cube trays in the sink.

"Keep your guard up around him." Adam looked her directly in the eyes. "He won't touch you as long as you're with me."

"What does that mean—
with you?”

"Literally? I've told him you're mine. Let me check your side." He reached toward her.

Renata hugged her torn clothes to her chest. "It's nothing."

"You're bleeding."

"It's just a scratch."

"Now you sound like him." Adam hooked a thumb toward Lyle's room. Loud snores echoed, confirming that, thanks to the painkillers, Lyle had slept through the entire episode. "He says he's fine, yet he's running a fever and keeps tearing his wound open."

"But—"

"No buts." Adam lifted the side of her shirt and shook his head. "You're current on tetanus?"

"Of course."

"These cuts are packed with grass and dirt. We need to get them clean before they get infected."