Captive Heart (3 page)

She was just ahead of him, trying to run in those ridiculously high boots. Day grinned. She might have a head start on him, but running wasn’t one of her talents. Even with the all-out panic he could read in every line of her body, she had no chance, not against him.

He set off after her, the powerful muscles in his legs driving him forward in a flat sprint. Even though he’d threatened to shoot her, he had no intention of it. Not when he could run her down. Just ahead of him, she squealed; a soft exclamation of denial, fear, frustration.

She tried to turn and evade his grasp, but he already had her. His hands descended on her shoulders just as they reached the truck. With two deft movements, he twisted her arm into a lock, slammed her hard into the hood of the truck, and pinned her there.

“Stupid move,” he told her, using his foot to kick her ankles apart as he pressed her into the cool metal.

“At least I tried,” she snarled in her defense, as if it made any difference. “I’m not going to take this lying down. If you thought that, then you really are an idiot!” She tried to struggle, but he kept the pressure of his body against hers, pinning her against the hood of the truck.

He chuckled, his breath fanning over her neck, and stirring the hair lying across it. “You seem to be lying down right now.”

He felt her shiver underneath him, and she was quiet for a while before she started squirming to try and get out of his grip. “That’s crude even for you, you douche.”

He tightened the grip on her arm until she stopped moving around, then lifted up and flipped her over easily. Despite the sass and attitude that somehow made her seem bigger than she was, she was a slender, petite little thing. Especially when compared to him. Roughly, he shoved her thighs apart, wedged his hips between them, and bracketed her head with his hands. It was a risk, letting her hands go. She could always try for his gun. But, fast as she might be, Day knew he was faster. Now, instead of a kidnapper/ victim combo, they looked like lovers to anyone who might catch a glimpse of them from the highway.

He glared at her, filled with determination and anger. He clenched his jaw. “I’ve not even
started
on crude yet, sweetheart. You want to try for it?”

Her hands went up to his chest, and she tried to push him away. “You’re not the first sleaze ball who tried to act funny with me,” she ground out, anger and frustration emanating from her. “Keep this up, and you’ll get a first-hand look of what I did to him when he tried to be a filthy pig.”

Day shifted his hips and lifted up a little, feeling like the creep she’d called him. He’d never,
never
needed to threaten a woman like this to get her to cooperate. Honey was always so much easier to use than threats. Trouble was, honey didn’t come easily to him. Especially when all his instincts told him she wasn’t indifferent to him. “Methinks the lady doth protest too loudly,” he taunted softly.

“In your dreams, douche bag.” she snapped back. “Get the hell off of me.” She tried pushing him again, but her efforts weren’t as whole-hearted as before.

His chuckle was mocking as he lifted away from her slightly. “You have
no
clue what my dreams are like.” Gently, he swept a finger along her cheekbone. “Really no clue at all…”

The rest of the journey to the cabin passed quickly, a strained silence reigning supreme in the small cab of the battered truck. After their little incident, Rollie didn’t look at him at all. She’d curled up under his jacket as though it were some sort of armor. Armor to keep him away.

She needn’t have bothered. Day kept his attention solely on the road, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the road stretching out in front of them. The scene at the rest stop had rocked him. He’d never felt instant lust, such need, for a woman. Not in all his years. The desire to pull her into his arms and silence her incessant nagging with a kiss, keeping that sassy mouth occupied in far more interesting ways than sniping at him, had totally blindsided him.

His jaw worked. He was used to being the one in control, the one calling the shots—even over his own body. Especially over his own body. When in the service, he’d never joined in the trips into whatever town they were stationed near to pick up women. He’d always waited for his leave, getting far away from it all and, if necessary, paying for his women. Generally, that hadn’t been necessary. All he had to do was sit in a bar long enough, and he could count on being approached.

He lifted a hand and rubbed the stubble forming over his jaw. He’d been told he was good looking, fit…and that was before he took his shirt off and they copped a load of the scars scattered over his torso.

Chicks seemed to dig scars, and he had a lot. Scars that told a tale of life in the darker areas of military service and beyond, places that didn’t really bear thinking about. Places the government would never admit to sending soldiers to. He snorted.
Plausible deniability
. It was a wonderful phrase used to cover all sorts of dodgy activities.

The turn for the cabin came into view, and within a few seconds, they were turning off the road. Not a moment too soon for Day. The sky had been gradually getting lighter, and he knew he had to get them off the road and out of sight before dawn broke.

They were almost home free. The thick branches overhead blotted out the paling sky as he entered the wood surrounding the cabin. Situated halfway up the hill and enclosed by dense forest, it was the perfect place to hunker down for a while. As they pulled up, he noted that she hadn’t moved other than a slight raise of her head to see around the bend. Otherwise, she kept her gaze away from him and stayed firmly planted on the other side of the cab. Her silence was a wall that made approaching her seem like a delicate situation.

He’d tied her hands again with a new set of flex cuffs. Normally, after a mark tried to get away, binding and gagging would have been called for. But, aside from some mandatory resistance when he was cuffing her hands, she obliged him all the way. As if she were looking forward to getting the whole thing over with.

Grimly, Day bit down the guilt that surged through him for frightening her. Where the hell had that come from? She was a job, nothing more. He’d done a hell of a lot worse in his time. She was getting the VIP treatment by comparison.

“We’re here,” he grunted, quite unnecessarily as he’d just shut the engine off.

She shrugged but said nothing. Opening the door, she stepped out of the warm enclosure of the truck, shivering slightly as the morning cold hit her full on. That strappy top would have been better left for sleepwear than actual work clothes.

“Come on. Last thing I want is you catching a cold and then I’ll have to look after you for days.” He rounded the truck and looped a hand under her upper arm. As he did, he gazed around them, checking the woods.

“Let’s get inside,” he murmured, urging her forward, his attention still on the forest that surrounded them.

“Yeah, good idea. I’m pretty sure my germs are lethal to single-celled organisms like you,” she retorted, but bit the end off abruptly. Despite the fact that he’d bound her, she was still a handful, and as he led her forward, she shoved her arm back, trying to make him release her, perhaps intending to walk by herself. With his hand where it was, though, she ended up pressing the side of her breast into his knuckles instead. She seemed to shiver at the contact and quickly recoiled away from him. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I can walk by myself, thank you.”

“So I see.” He let go and motioned for her to precede him, then had to hide a smirk as her stiletto heels got mired in the soft earth of the clearing in front of the cabin. Day just shook his head.
Bloody women. They’d cut their damn noses off to spite their faces
.

She tried to navigate through the soft soil with the impractical shoes, but eventually she sighed in resignation. She was only ruining an expensive-looking pair of boots and risking falling flat on her ass. Already she’d almost lost her balance twice.

Day waited, adopting a bored look as he crossed his arms. “Mind picking it up a little here, toots? I’d like to get inside before sunrise.”

Rollie loved anything with high heels. Growing up in the rough environment she had, she came off tomboyish. Heels gave her a sense of femininity, not to mention wearing them did great things to her posture and made her feel sexy. She wore them so often she was used to doing all sorts of activities in them. However, had she known she would be kidnapped today, she would have opted to wear sneakers, or army boots she could have stashed a knife in. Instead, she was digging herself into soft soil as the heels sank all the way, ruining a fabulous and very expensive pair of Pradas.

She’d rather eat dirt than admit defeat to this Neanderthal, though. He annoyed her—a lot—which was rare since she usually got along so well with everyone. Of course, he was her kidnapper, and she was supposed to hate him, but every time he said something, she ground her teeth. And every time he touched her, she wanted to butt him in the head. She’d take these reactions more seriously if she didn’t also shiver with every touch. Damn it. She hadn’t been around any men for the longest time, especially attractive ones built the way he was, and now she was paying for it. He was sexy in that brooding, bad-boy way, and from the contact earlier, the rock-hard muscles under his clothes weren’t gym-sculpted designer muscles. No, this bad boy had lived rough, and it showed.

If only he didn’t look so good, she might not react like the virginal geek she used to be. She was now a grown woman, and this man wasn’t her friend, he was an enemy. Her captor.

A few steps more and she made it to the rickety front step and clomped up the stairs with a proud bearing.

He followed a step or two behind. Despite being larger than she was, his footfalls were almost noiseless. Rollie shivered. It was another indication that this man wasn’t quite what she expected. He looked like a thug for sure, the sort into loud music and working out with weights in front of a mirror. But it was as if he wore a mask; the expression in his eyes slipped at times and revealed something altogether colder underneath. Even now, he wasn’t looking at her, not properly. Oh, she had no doubt he was tracking her every movement, but his attention was on the woods surrounding them, which allowed her a moment to study him.

Physically, there were no other words to describe him other than
hunk
and other versions of the same. Despite the fact she didn’t like him right now, she couldn’t deny he was attractive. His face seemed carved from rock, and he had a rugged appeal that made him undeniably masculine. Had he smiled for reasons other than scorning or threatening her, the dimples that appeared every time he did would have made him adorably cute. Coupled with a body like that and the twinkle in his warm, hazel eyes, there was no way he couldn’t know what effect he had on women.

Rollie, who hadn’t had an intimate relationship in like forever, wasn’t faring so well when it came to trying to remember that this man wasn’t a friend but the enemy. She should be afraid of him and thinking of escape instead of wondering how it would have felt if he had kissed her when he had her pinned against the hood. She actually found herself hoping he’d kiss her every time he hovered over her, and was even more shocked at the pang of disappointment when he backed away.

This was pathetic, even for her.

His gaze finished its sweep of the clearing, and he shook his head slightly, as though bothered by something. Then he caught her looking at him. For a spilt second, his expression mirrored surprise, and then the mask slotted into place again as though he’d reminded himself who and what she was. A job. His captive.

“Inside.” He unlocked the door with a quick movement, pushing it open and motioning her through it past him. The gap wasn’t wide, but she didn’t think his intention was to make her squeeze past him so he could get some sort of lecherous thrill out of it. No, his attention was on the surroundings again, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

He followed her inside, throwing the bolt and locking it after them. He slipped the key into the pocket of his jeans. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, motioning toward a tattered sofa against one wall as he strode past her. He flicked on the TV as he passed and headed for the kitchen.

“Not exactly the Ritz Carlton, but then again, this is what they use for the hideouts in those B movie action flicks, don’t they?”

He’d been distracted by the surroundings…was he expecting someone to arrive? Were they being watched? His employer perhaps, or more lackeys?

The thought of more coming made her unsettled. Men who usually went into this line of work weren’t very chivalrous, were they? The man who had kidnapped her had intimated that he wasn’t beneath doing base things to her, but somehow she could tell it wasn’t in his nature to do so.

She couldn’t say the same for his accomplices though. If he had any. The only defense she had right now was her wits, and she had to stay calm and alert. Staying a smartass was risky, but she needed to look tough, otherwise it would be easy for him or his buddies to have their way with her. And being a smartass also made
her
believe she was tough, which was good. Because right now, her sass was the only thing stopping her from freaking out.

Who would want her “out of the way,” as he had said? Not many people knew that she was the real brains behind Gavilan Tech. He’d mentioned a conference. Did he mean the energy summit in Geneva? Was this about the photon reactor? Who would have known other than someone in her own company…? She grimaced. Did she have a mole in her research team?

“Hey,” she called to him in the kitchen. “Since you got me locked in here, are these still necessary?” She indicated the flex cuffs.

He turned around to lean back against the counter with his hands spread on either side of his hips. “That depends. You going to give me any more trouble?”

“That depends. Are you really going to let me go soon?”

His lips quirked as though he fought a smile. “Sassy little thing, aren’t you? Come here.” He spoke the order softly, but it was an order nonetheless. His gaze was firm and unyielding.

He was being intent, and despite her sass, she didn’t want to defy him, so she did as he said. “Can’t help it. I am usually a pain in the ass, especially if someone kidnaps me then sticks me in a pad that looks like a bear lived in it for a while.” She approached him, extending her bound wrists forward so he could cut the flex cuffs off.

He hooked a finger under the cuffs, drawing her closer slowly. As he watched her, the expression in his eyes warmed up. His grip on the cuffs tightened as she resisted a little.

“You want the cuffs off?” he asked, his voice low. “Well, I want something in return.”

She shivered involuntarily at the look in his eyes. Something had changed, and she knew he was up to something devious. She tugged at his hold on the plastic ties that bound her wrists. “Apart from my credit cards, I only have twenty-six dollars in my wallet, so I’m afraid I can’t help you there, champ. Though, if you take me to town, I guess I can withdraw some cash at the bank.” She knew exactly what he wanted, but she couldn’t help playing a dangerous game with her captor.

In an isolated place. In the mountains. All alone.

He tilted his head slightly, the single finger hold he had on her cuffs easily breakable. “Oh, come on. You’re not that dense. You know I’m not interested in money.” His low voice was like a caress that slid along her spine, stroking the skin with soft fingers. “If I was, I’d have taken the better rate and just killed you.”

Heat had spread through her body the second she saw the change, and him turning up the sexual mega wattage was burning her up. Oh, she knew what he was about, but she was
so
not going there. If he had been someone else, she’d probably be hitting on him the second she saw him. But she wouldn’t even consider it with the guy who had kidnapped her. A very…sexy…kidnapper.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, what was I supposed to think? It can’t be what you’re trying to insinuate, because I don’t think you’re man enough for me, bucko.”

Liar, liar. Pants on fire.

His eyes darkened, one eyebrow arching. “Is that so?” The pressure on her cuffs increased, pulling her a little nearer.

He only had one finger on the plastic ties, his hold easily broken if she pulled her hands away. But it wasn’t the ties that bound her now. It was the way his eyes looked into hers that held her attention. She was finding it hard to draw a deep breath, and her heart pounded so hard she was afraid he could hear it. What was it about this man and her?