Secluded With the Cowboy (10 page)

Her usually reticent cowboy husband was so friendly and upbeat that Nicole was beginning to think he should always be disguised as Johnny Hellman. The frequent butt-patting and cleavage-ogling was a bit annoying, but otherwise Dylan was adorable. While picking up the key to the condo from the downstairs manager, he’d made jokes and chatted.

The three-story rectangular building had only nine units—three on each floor—and was perched on the hillside above the lodge. The wood siding and gingerbread trim on the balconies and along the eaves harkened back to the pseudo-Victorian design that was popular in many of the mountain towns, but these condos were far more modern. Though only three floors, the building had a huge elevator—big enough for several skiers and their equipment.

Dylan paused outside their room after fitting the key into the lock. He leered at her through his black-framed glasses.

“What?” she asked. “Is there something I should—”

He pushed open the door, turned and lifted her off her
feet. A totally unexpected move. She let out a shriek. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying my lady over the threshold.” He swept her past the kitchenette into the front room and set her gently on the sofa. “Like a second honeymoon.”

“Yes, dear. If we don’t count the trashy disguise and the fact that a homicidal crazy man is after us.”

“Nate will never find us here.”

As he returned to the hallway to retrieve their bags, she sent up a quick prayer that he was right. Of course, he was. Nobody could know they were in Glenwood. The chopper had taken a crazy route. They were using different names. And this condo was far off the beaten path.

He returned to the sofa and dove on top of her. “How about it, Frankie? Ready for some action?”

“Tempted.” But too many deceptions stood in the way of true intimacy. Before they made love, they needed to talk. “What about dinner?”

“For a sexy mistress, you’re pretty damned practical.”

“You know how it is with us gold diggers. Always keeping an eye on the bottom line.”

“What does that mean?”

“You get no action unless you pay for it,” she said as she climbed out from under him and stood. “Lobster and steak?”

He took off his glasses, shaking off the persona. “I want to avoid public places, like restaurants.”

She circled the front room, an attractively furnished space with sliding-glass doors that opened onto a balcony. There was a built-in electric fireplace, a TV, a long table with benches and three sofas—all of which probably folded out into beds. This condo was designed for a family on a mountain vacation with one actual
bedroom and a lot of other space for sleeping. In the kitchenette, she opened a cabinet over the microwave. “Not much here but salt, pepper and sugar. I guess we should stock up at the grocery store.”

“It’s only a little after eight,” he said, checking his wristwatch. “Put on your bathing suit.”

“Isn’t the vest revealing enough?”

“After we stop at the market, we can go to the pool.” He headed toward the door. “Which reminds me. I should have gotten the pass key that lets us into the pool area. I’ll check with the manager and be right back.”

When the door closed behind Dylan, Nicole exhaled a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. Maintaining her self-control took more effort than she realized. She wished she could wipe her memory clean and erase every trace of Nate Miller, but it wasn’t possible. He was there inside her head. The only way to get him out was to tell all.

Thinking of Nate, she took her cell phone from her purse. There was one text message: Call. Or else.

She had to respond. Nate was capable of inflicting all sorts of mayhem on the people she loved.

Cell phone in hand, she opened the sliding-glass door and stepped outside, hoping for good reception. With the sleeve of her fringed jacket, she brushed a few inches of snow from the flat railing on the waist-high, fancy cut-out fence that enclosed the balcony. She looked down at the mineral-springs pool down the slope and to the left. Though Dylan had told her that it was huge, she was amazed by the size of the long, blue reservoir lit by lights below the water and swirling with the steam caused by ninety-degree water hitting the cold night air. Very impressive.

Beyond the Lodge and the pool was the highway. On the other side of the Roaring Fork River, the lights of Glenwood Springs glittered. The business section of town was brighter than usual with Christmas lights strung from the shops and trees. Though she couldn’t make out details from this far away, she expected the town to be quaint and truly historical. Unlike some of the pre-fab, manufactured “Old West” towns, Glenwood was the real thing.

She decided to call Nate and get it over with. She punched in his number and reminded herself to sound as though she was sick in bed. Maybe she could channel the spirit of the consumptive Doc Holliday—gunslinger, dentist and tuberculosis victim—who Dylan had told her was buried here.

“You caught me just in time,” he whispered. “I was deciding if I should shoot one of the ranch hands guarding the front gate or one of the horses.”

“Don’t shoot anyone,” she moaned into the phone. “I’ll do what you want. I’ve been too sick to move.”

If he’d been monitoring the GPS device he’d left for her, he’d think she hadn’t moved from the bed.

“Did you stop taking the sedatives?” he demanded.

“Yes, but I’m weak. So weak.”

The sound of a train whistle cut through the night. Across the Roaring Fork, she saw the lights of a train. It whistled again.

“What was that?” Nate demanded.

“It’s the TV,” she said quickly. “I’ll turn it down.”

“Where are you?”

In those three small words, she heard rage and the threat of violence.

“In bed. Too sick to move.”

“Don’t lie to me, Nicole.”

Panic raced through her. Real terror tinged her voice. “I wouldn’t dare.”

The phone went dead in her hand.

The train whistle sounded again.

Her fist clenched protectively in front of her belly. Nate still wouldn’t know where they were. Railroad tracks crisscrossed the state. Unfortunately, none were close enough to the Carlisle ranch to hear the whistle blow there.

Frantic, she hit the redial button. It rang and rang. “Pick up, damn you. Answer me.”

Nate’s voice roared in her ear. “Tell your damn husband I’m coming for him.”

“I’m sorry.” Her heart pounded furiously in her rib cage. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just promise me that you won’t hurt anyone else.”

“Call me in the morning.”

He was gone again.

Shivering, she stared down at the glittering little town. Her vision blurred. Fear made her lightheaded. She had to tell Dylan about this new threat. Somehow, she would have to explain why she’d been in contact with the man who wanted to kill him. The man who’d said he’d kill one of the ranch hands or shoot one of the horses.

From inside the condo, she heard the door open.

Dylan came onto the balcony beside her. His arms wrapped around her. “You’re shivering, darlin’.”

“Cold,” she said. And terrified to her core.

I
T HAD TAKEN
some coaxing for Dylan to convince his wife that they needed to leave the condo. Their ride in the helicopter had been the high point of the day—literally, and in every other way. After that, Nicole had
been bummed by the clerk’s comment in the terminal. Now, she was dark. Quiet. Edgy.

How was he supposed to woo this woman? The traditional courtship rituals, like chocolate and flowers, sure as hell weren’t going to make a dent in her depressed mood. The whole time they were in the grocery store, he could barely get her to smile.

He needed patience, but it wasn’t his nature to sit back and wait. He had one more plan for tonight. And it was a good one.

He parked their rental vehicle outside the gate leading into the pool. “We’re going for a swim in the world’s largest bathtub.”

“Not tonight.”

“You’re already wearing your bathing suit. And I bought towels at the grocery store.” He took the keys from the ignition and opened his car door. “Last one in is a rotten—”

“Stop it! I’m not playing around. We need to talk, and it’s serious.”

Everything is serious with her
. Couldn’t she take a break? Just be grateful that she’d survived? He slammed his car door and stood, looking up. On a clear winter night like this, the stars sparkled like diamonds. She needed to see these skies.

He circled the car, opened her door and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

The heavy makeup she’d applied around her eyes had smeared. When she glared at him, she resembled a cranky raccoon. “Where are we going?”

“Swimming.”

Slowly, with exaggerated reluctance, she placed her small hand in his.

He escorted her to the gate which opened easily with the pass key. The snow had already melted along the paved pathway that led to the red sandstone bathhouse where they could strip down, rinse off and leave their clothes in a locker. Wisps of steam rolled across the blue waters of the pool beside them.

He changed fast and waited for her outside the ladies’ locker room. When she reappeared, barefooted, with a beach towel covering her blue bathing suit, he caught her hand and pulled her toward the shallow end. “The water’s warmer down here.”

“Only warm? You said it’d be hot,” she grumbled. “How can they heat this thing? It’s huge.”

“Four hundred feet long, about a hundred feet wide.”

Only a few people were in the pool. Through the clouds of steam and the vast expanse of water, the others were barely noticeable. He unwrapped her towel. The bruises on her forearms had already started to fade, but the sight of the injuries she’d suffered at Nate’s hands sent a spurt of anger through him.

“You first,” she said.

“Gladly.” He slipped into the warm, soothing waters and held out his arms for her.

First, she sat on the edge. When her slender feet touched the water, she looked surprised. “It’s warm.”

“Well, yeah.” Hadn’t he told her about a hundred times? “That’s why they call them hot springs.”

She slid into the pool, into his arms for a quick hug. This area was only about three feet deep, and she bobbed once before submerging. When she bounced up beside him, the tangles in her hair flattened smoothly against her skull. She rubbed at her eyes, erasing the last traces of makeup. “It doesn’t smell like chlorine.”

“They installed an advanced filtration system.” He didn’t know the details. “This water is pure.”

She pushed through the water with a breast stroke. Her slender legs trailed behind her in a pale reflection. He glided along beside her. The liquid warmth buoyed him, soothed him. He couldn’t for the life of him think of why they hadn’t come here before. Too busy to take a simple vacation? It seemed a poor excuse.

She disappeared under the water, and he ducked down to watch her undulate toward him. They locked lips and rose with rivulets streaming from them. He held her close, and her body molded against him. In the water, her familiar curves felt exotic and different. Her legs tangled with his.

Still kissing, he rolled to his back and pulled her with him through the water. She clung to him. Her breasts rubbed against his bare chest.

“Nice,” she whispered. “Feels good.”

“You feel good.”

Underwater, he cupped her butt and fitted her against his erection. He was ready to make love, here and now. Probably not a good idea in a public place. They were supposed to maintain a low profile.

From the other parts of the pool, they heard the shouts of people running. Then there was the quiet of the night.

She separated from him, glided into deeper water and turned. “It’s time for me to tell you a few things.”

Her voice was so soft, he could barely hear her. “I’m listening.”

“The first place Nate held me captive, that little room under Fiona Grant’s barn, wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a decent bed, and he left plenty of food and water. I was scared, but I felt strong and in control.”

When he eased toward her through the water, she moved away, keeping a distance between them.

She continued, “I’ve been wondering. Why would anybody build a little room under a barn?”

“Nate built it himself. Before Fiona moved up here full-time, she paid Nate’s ex-wife to stay at her house to keep an eye on things. She also hired Nate to do some handyman work, and he constructed that little nest so he could be close to his son.”

Nicole ducked down so only her head was showing. Her eyes were more blue than the water. “That’s sad.”

“Sick,” Dylan corrected her. “He was stalking his ex-wife. The poor woman had to take out restraining orders to keep him away from her and the boy.”

“Her name is Belinda, right?”

“And her son is Mickey. He’s the same age as Fiona’s daughter. Those two kids helped find that hidden room. When I saw it, I couldn’t believe you were there. We were searching every place, and you were so damn close.”

“While Nate held me there, he brought water so I could wash myself. And a change of clothes.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“The proof-of-life pictures and videos.” He’d stared at those tapes until his eyes were raw. At the time, he’d thought it might the last time he would ever see his wife. “The clothes he gave you once belonged to Belinda. That’s how we finally figured out Nate was the one who kidnapped you. Belinda saw the tapes and identified her old clothes.”

“I guess I owe her.”

“We all do.”

She paddled away from him. Though he knew it
would be good for her to tell the whole story of her kidnapping, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she said. At the moment, he had a grip on his hatred for Nate Miller. Dylan didn’t think about killing that bastard more than once or twice a day. He couldn’t afford to let his rage get the better of him.

He rose up from the water. “Let’s soak in the therapy pool. It’s even hotter than this one.”

When they emerged from the water and the cold air hit their skin, they shivered together. In a few quick strides, they crossed the pavement to the therapy pool, which was heated to over a hundred degrees and was about a hundred feet long.