Runaway (8 page)

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Authors: Heather Graham

BOOK: Runaway
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They had been sent to retrieve her! she thought, her heart pounding.

“What the bloody hell do you want?” McKenzie demanded, his voice ringing with fury.

Rory cleared his throat. “Sorry, McKenzie. But Eastwood needs the girl. Seems that someone willing to pay big is looking for her.”

“She’s three hundred dollars to me. In gold,” McKenzie said flatly.

“But she has to come back—”

“She isn’t coming back tonight, and if anyone tries to take her, I’ll kill him! Is that understood?”

His words were met with silence. He continued. “She’ll come back in the morning,” McKenzie said flatly. He lowered his voice. Tara could still hear him, but his words were very soft. “I mean, really, boys, I’m just getting to the good part and the two of you bust in here? Get the hell out! It’ll be another gold piece to the both of you, and Eastwood will have her back for the other two in the morning. He can make his money, you can make yours, and I can have the whole damned night that fool Eastwood owes for being stupid enough to borrow money from that gambling Frenchie.”

There was some whispering that Tara couldn’t hear. She realized that the two men were trying to look over McKenzie’s shoulder, assuring themselves that she was in his bed, right where she was supposed to be.

“What’s she like?” Geoffrey asked McKenzie suddenly. “I always itched to get my hands on her … she claimed she didn’t do business with any menfolk, hired help or not. God, I would have spent every cent I ever had—”

He broke off because McKenzie was pushing him out the door. “She’s just a little taste of heaven!” McKenzie assured him. “Remember, there’s money in it for you both. Just so long as I’m not interrupted again tonight, eh?”

“Right, McKenzie. You won’t be interrupted again,” Rory promised him. “Excuse us. We’re really sorry.”

“Just go!”

They did. McKenzie closed the door behind them and leaned against it. Tara could feel his ebony gaze on her.
As if he could really see her in the darkness. He laughed suddenly, a bit wickedly. “You’re blushing!”

“You can’t possibly see that!” Tara cried. What else had he seen? “And you didn’t have to say that!”

“Say what?”

“That I was a taste of heaven!”

“I should have said that you were as exciting as a cold piece of driftwood?” he inquired politely. “They would have really wondered why I wanted you for the rest of the night!”

“No!” She wanted to throw something at him, anything! “You shouldn’t have said anything at all!”

“No matter what I said, he’d be licking his chops,” McKenzie said flatly.

She was still upset. She’d never felt so horribly cheap in all her life.

Cheap, no. She was supposedly worth three hundred dollars, she reminded herself miserably.

“You didn’t have to say anything!” she repeated angrily.

“You wanted me to slug them both unconscious?” he asked her in a soft taunt. “I might have managed it—even though those two are pretty good at brawn. But they don’t do so very well when it comes to brain! But it wouldn’t have done us a damned bit of good. Eastwood can send out a score of men. And even if I did feel like belting them all for your dubious honor, it wouldn’t do us a damned bit of good. What we need to do is buy time.”

“Dubious honor!” Tara began angrily.

“All right! I’m sorry. But I did win you in a poker game at Eastwood’s!”

Was he serious, or laughing at her? Sometimes he was amused, his smile coming so quickly. And sometimes
there seemed to be something almost dark about him, jaded, very hard and cynical.

He strode across the room again, nonchalant in his bath sheet, muscled bronze shoulders gleaming. He retrieved her clothing from around the room, depositing it on the bed at her feet. He let the bath sheet fall, plucking his own clothing from the floor. With no hesitancy or embarrassment he crawled back into his breeches. “Get dressed!” he commanded her. “Now!”

Oh, he could snap out orders like a general! “You just told me to get undressed!” she reminded him.

He paused. Even at their distance she could sense both his amusement and his innate heat. “You want to stay there? We don’t have much time, but then again, maybe there’s enough—”

“Oh, stop it!” she whispered. “I can’t get dressed! You’re staring at me—”

She broke off. They were both startled by a light knocking at the door.

“McKenzie, you in there?” came a soft query.

It was dark, but Tara could see the way that the tension eased from his shoulders. He strode toward the door.

“What are you doing?” she called out desperately, instinctively dragging the sheets to her throat.

He didn’t reply. Holding on to his bath sheet, he jerked open the door. The handsome young man from the pool table stumbled in. “McKenzie! They’re looking for the girl—”

“Well, you’re late,” McKenzie told him with a touch of amusement. “They were already here.”

“You let them take her?”

McKenzie indicated the bed. Tara wanted to shrink beneath it.

“Oh. Oh! Excuse me, I didn’t know I was interrupting—”

“You weren’t interrupting anything,” McKenzie said flatly. “I had to make it look as if we were occupied for hours to come.”

“Why are they after her?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you try asking her?”

Tara was instantly certain that he didn’t have the see-in-the-dark abilities of his friend. He squinted, staring her way. “Why are they after you?”

She didn’t answer.

“We don’t have time for this. Not now. We’ve got to get out.”

“Right!” Robert said quickly. He stood still.

“Well?” McKenzie said, amused again. “Do you mind? I think that the lady would like to dress.”

“Oh. Right! I’ll be outside.”

McKenzie closed the door behind him. He stared at Tara. “Get dressed!”

She gritted her teeth. “If you’re going to stare at me, you might as well invite your friend back in!” she snapped.

“Shall I?”

She threw a pillow at him and he caught it. He laughed. It was a rich, husky sound. Sensual. She felt more naked than ever.

“It’s pitch dark in here—and I’ve already seen you.” He was very quick himself. He was already in his shirt and boots and frock coat and coming across the room again. She was forced to swallow down a cry when he lifted her from the sheets, setting her on the floor.

“If it was pitch dark, you haven’t seen anything!” she tried to tell him.

But maybe that was wrong. She could see the fiery gleam in his dark eyes and the mocking curl to his lip as he slipped her petticoat over her head and then swirled
her around to tie her corset back in place. He was swift and deft with women’s clothing, she noted.

“We’ve got to get going!” he told her.

“And go where?” she whispered desperately. “Down to your swamp?”

“You’ve a better suggestion?”

“North—”

“I live south.”

“But I can’t stay there!” she protested in dismay. “It’s savage land—”

“And you’re afraid? Pity!”

“I’m not afraid,” she murmured quickly. “Not any more afraid than I am of going back out tonight!”

“Ah! Since Eastwood’s boys will take their time reporting back, you think that your friends will still be after you!”

“They’re not my friends.”

“Whoever. We’ll get past them.”

“To the swamp!” she whispered.

“I won’t leave you once we’re there,” he said very softly.

Tara closed her eyes. She tried to remember everything she knew about Florida. It was raw, awful, she had heard. There were horrible, savage battles with the Indians. Most of the state was a wasteland.

She didn’t want to be afraid. Ever. But she was.

“How can I be guaranteed that?” she whispered, her eyes pinning his. Damn, but she had a will of steel! Danger lay at the doorstep and she was still negotiating!

A tap came on the door. “Ready?” Robert asked. The door opened. He came through.

“She doesn’t like the idea of Florida,” McKenzie told him.

“I don’t want to be left with a savage in the middle of a swamp!” she whispered.

“Why not? You’ll be going there with a savage!” Robert said and laughed. There was silence. “I was joking, you know.”

Why the hell
was
he taking her with him? Jarrett wondered. He could just put her on a riverboat and send her north.

And where would she wind up? How long would it be before these people came after her again?

It wasn’t his affair.

It was. He had seen her. He had touched her. Oh, yes. He had seen quite a bit of her.

“He won’t leave you there,” Robert continued. “I know he won’t.” He swung around, staring at McKenzie in the darkness. His voice was a whisper. “Damn it, it’s the answer. Yes, bring her home. You’ve needed someone. Marry her.”

“What?” McKenzie thundered the word. Then he stared at Tara. She backed away into a corner of the room.

“Look—” she began.

“Why not?” McKenzie muttered.

He smiled as a startling chill swept through him. What was he doing? To himself, to her!

What difference did it make? he wondered wearily. He could never have married any of the women or girls who would have been appropriate wives for him. Not someone he knew, who had known Lisa. Robert had once suggested a mail-order bride because he did need someone. What was a plantation without someone to run the household, without someone—anyone—warm to return to at the end of the day?

Well, she was a hell of a lot better than a mail-order bride!

And he knew that he wanted her. If he should burn
any more deeply for her, he would explode like cannon fire.

He stared hard at her, his muscles constricted, the length of him as tight as wire. “I will marry you,” he told her. “And then I
can
absolutely guarantee you that you will be safe.”

She gasped, stunned. “But I can’t—”

“Are you already married?”

“No!”

“Then?”

For once he seemed to have really shaken her. Her lips trembled, the length of her shook. “I don’t love you, I don’t even know you! I

” She shook her head wildly. “How do
you
know you’re willing to do it?” she inquired.

He folded his arms over his chest. “Because I’m a gambler. You must have noticed that by now. And if you were willing to throw yourself into the Mississippi, you have to be one hell of a gambler too.”

She was still staring at him, moisture dazzling her eyes, even in the shadowy darkness.

“She’s gone! Really gone. I sure as hell can’t find her,” came an irritated call from the street.

“She can’t be gone! Keep looking. We’ll find her.”

“What’s it to be?” he asked her very softly.

What was it to be? What choice did she have?

A shudder seized her, as dark and frightening as the night. Her mouth went dry, her palms dampened. He was a striking man. Even vague thoughts of an intimate relationship with him made her feel very weak.

He was her way out. She was desperate.

But if she accepted his help, she knew that she would be expected to play out her part of the bargain. She might well be leaping straight into the fire.…

It was better than turning back!

Dear God! She heard footsteps running along the street. They had moved on.

“Do it!” Robert urged her. He was grinning broadly. Teasing her. Taunting McKenzie. “He’s got a temper as bad as the devil’s, but he’s rich as Midas.”

“Well?” McKenzie asked. His words were soft. He sounded angry. He was almost demanding that she do it, and yet he seemed to know that she had no choice, that she would say yes—and that when she did, he would be angry all over again!

“You’re the one running out of time!” he reminded her, black eyes still hard upon her.

She tossed back her hair, meeting his stare, and his challenge. “Anything! Anything!” she cried. “Just as long as you get me away.”

“Oh, I’ll get you away! And then you’ll only have to face those savage alligators and Indians—and me!” He turned away from her, staring at the friend who had taunted him into the situation. “Let’s move, then. Robert—go ahead, get us ready to leave. Slip out now.”

“Right!” Robert saluted. It was an adventure for him. Tara could see his handsome smile flashing brightly against the night.

He slipped out. A second later McKenzie had her arm. “Quickly!” he commanded, leading her from the dark room. In seconds they were rushing down the stairs and hurrying back down the street. The scenery seemed to flash by her. She had never moved so swiftly in all her life.

Suddenly he pulled her into an alleyway.

Someone was coming down the street. Running after them now that it seemed they had disappeared. She could hear the footsteps coming closer and closer. Within seconds she’d be able to touch the man stalking them in the night.

McKenzie knew it too. She could see it in his black eyes. But those eyes never left hers. At just the right moment he threw out his arm.

A man bellowed in the darkness, tripping. He was burly, half bald, and very vicious looking in the shadows as he picked himself up. He caught a glimpse of Tara, smiled, and started for McKenzie.

McKenzie let his fist fly once. It connected with the man’s jaw. The big burly fellow went down with a little expulsion of air.

Tara stared down at him. McKenzie reached out a hand to her.

She didn’t take it at first. She kept staring down at the man in amazement. “Is he dead?” she asked.

“No,” he told her. He paused a moment. “Did you want him to be?”

“No!”

“Good.”

She gazed up at him. Those dark eyes were still studying her, as if they could discern everything about her!

He shrugged. “It’s good to know that you’re not a bloodthirsty little wench. Even if he did deserve killing. Did he?”

“I’m not sure,” she said.

“Somehow, I didn’t think you would be. He was just a henchman for someone else, right?”

“I can’t—”

“Damnit, you know who this one is, right?”

“Yes!”

“One down,” he murmured. “For a while, at least.”

“Can we go?” she murmured.

“I was just waiting for you to ask.”

“Where
are we going right now?” she whispered.

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