Springer, Jan - In Her Bed [The Desperadoes 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (2 page)

They were going to kill her. Or rape her. Or worse!

She realized the other man, the one in the back doorway, had disappeared. Maybe she’d hit him when the gun had gone off? Maybe she could still escape?

She began kicking at the guy holding her captive. She hit somewhere solid. His grip loosened. She used her elbows and found more solid flesh. A couple of loud
oomphs
encouraged her to keep fighting. Without warning, he let go of her, and she was sailing through the air. She fell onto the couch, the one she’d been sleeping on. The sagging springs creaked as she hit them hard. Then, he flew on top of her, his big body crushing her beneath his heavy weight, pinning her. She tried to scream, realized she still was screaming.

A cold hand clamped over her mouth, and for some unexplainable reason she stopped screaming. An eerie silence followed, and she stopped struggling, realizing screaming was wasting precious energy.

Her captor was breathing hard. They were both breathing hard. She tensed as a familiar voice, one etched with humor, whispered into her ear. “Hey, Brandy, we’ve missed you.”

Relief, lightning quick, sliced through her.

It was Landon Leigh.

Liz swallowed as a hot flush of warmth splashed through her. Brandy. That was Landon’s nickname for her.

Suddenly she became aware of his every hard, heated muscle as he pressed against her flesh. Noticed the powerful grip of his thighs wrapped around her legs. The strong arms that held her wrists prevented her from hitting him as anger slashed through her. The bastard had nerve, scaring her the way he had. She was about to cut into him with a volley of curses when his next words stopped her cold.

“We need your services,” he said.

Her services
?
Elizabeth
blinked in stunned disbelief and tried to still her racing thoughts. Hell, who was she kidding? She couldn’t even form a thought. All she knew was she needed to get away from Landon, because she suspected she knew who the other man standing at the back door would be. She knew why they’d come here.

A slow, erotic tremble began to shift through her body. Oh yes, she needed to escape.

“There’s three wounded,” Landon whispered.

He lifted his hand from her mouth, and her first instinct was to start screaming again because she was that pumped with adrenaline. He moved off her, and she could see a silhouette of another man standing nearby.

“Long time, no see, Doc,” that man said in a steely voice that, despite it sounding icy and angry, smoothed over her trembling body like hot liquid fire.

It was Ethan Durango. Her ex-fiancé. Son of a bitch! She should have recognized him. Should have recognized both of them. But she’d been too scared. Or maybe deep down she’d known all along who they were and why they’d come?

She bolted from the couch before she even realized she was doing it. How dare they scare her so badly? How bloody well dare they!

Fully intending to slap
Durango
silly, she raised her arm, but he was faster.
Durango
was always faster. He grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging into her flesh like steel bands.

“Uh-uh. No slapping, Doc. I’m the only one allowed to do that, remember?” His sultry voice sent tremors coursing through her. She knew what he meant. He enjoyed slapping her ass. Spanking her until she blushed before he took her.

Well, not this time around. She’d kicked him out months ago after he’d revealed he and his friend, Landon, had sexual fantasies of what they wanted to do to her. She’d been so embarrassed and shy because she’d wanted the same thing that she’d been unable to confess to that truth to
Durango
.

“Get out of here. Both of you,” she said as the familiar anger and shame raged through her.

“You’d turn away three patients, Doc? You’d put our lives in danger because you can’t face the truth?”

Doc. His nickname for her. When they’d been engaged she’d loved it when he called her that. Now it just pissed her off because it reminded her of the wonderful carefree days they’d shared before the Catastrophe. It had been another life. He’d been another man back then. The Catastrophe had changed all that. Changed both of them.

“It’s your truth. Not mine. Now get out,” she spat.

Although it was dark in the living room, she could see the irritation flare in his eyes. Could feel his body tense with fury.

She tried to get away from him, to break his grip. Of course, he wouldn’t allow that.

“She’s a hellfire, that’s for sure.” The words were soft-spoken with underlying lust and appreciation from Landon. Although she’d only known Landon a few short months while he’d worked here, she knew she should have recognized him standing in front of her. Should have realized he would never hurt her. Hell, he was the man who wanted to fuck her while
Durango
watched. Suddenly her cheeks warmed. It irritated her.

“If you wanted my help, you should have knocked. Now get out, and don’t come back.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been so deep in your dreams, baby,”
Durango
said.

Her cheeks grew hot at his knowing comment.

“Besides, you shot me, Doc. The least you can do is fix me up before you send us on our way.”

Liz blinked as a shock wave rolled over her. She’d shot him?
Oh my God.
She’d shot
Durango
when the gun went off? Concern washed away her anger.

“Where are you hit?”

Before he could answer, she saw the dark stain on the upper right arm area of his jacket.

Okay, calm down
. He was still standing, so it wasn’t that bad. But she also knew how quickly a gunshot wound could get infected.

“Take off your shirt. I’ll get my bag.”

She tried to get out of
Durango
’s grasp again, but he didn’t let loose. Instead, he nodded to Landon.

“You’ll take care of the others first. Landon, you get her bag. She usually keeps it in the hall closet by the front door. Top shelf.”

Landon nodded, and he hurried away. That was when she realized Landon was limping. Another wave of concern snapped through her. She’d need to tend to Landon, too.
Durango
had mentioned three wounded. Where was the third man? And was that what her hot dream had been about? A forewarning of things to come?

Liz shook her head in denial. Tried to ignore the intense awareness of Durango and Landon washing through her, but she knew the longer they stayed in her home, the harder it would be to keep them away from her.

She knew they’d joined the Durango Gang. It was a Robin Hood-type gang his oldest surviving cousin, Kayne
Durango
, had started. Unfortunately in their quest to steal from the rich and give to the poor, every vigilante group that made money off the misery of others wanted the Durango Gang to hang by the neck until they were dead. She’d told
Durango
if he joined his cousin’s gang and became a desperado, he wasn’t welcome back here. The minute he’d left, she realized she’d never really meant it. She still loved him, no matter how much he’d changed.
Or how much he’d tried to get you to confront your own sexual demons
.

“We didn’t see your horse in the lean-to out back. Thought maybe you weren’t living here anymore,”
Durango
said, his grip on her wrist tightening. “I should have known you’d be deep in your fantasies, baby. When you’re dreaming, an earthquake can’t wake you. Much to my annoyance, of course, when I want to make love to you.”

Intense heat flared through her, and she forced herself to ignore his latter comment.

“I loaned the horse to a neighbor.” She’d lent the horse to Teyla and her men for a few days.

She could feel the heat from
Durango
’s body now. Could smell his scent. Rich and dangerous, yet soothing at the same time.
Durango
, as she’d always called him, had always kept her off-balance. She loved that about him. At least she had loved him, until his confession that he wanted to make both their sexual fantasies come true. She forced herself to shake away those thoughts.
Time to deal with reality
.

“You said there are three wounded. Where’s the other one?”

Heavy footsteps from the front of the house made her look toward the doorway where Landon had exited a moment earlier. This time, he’d returned with a man, who leaned against him.

“That would be him, Tyrell Mathews. He’s been shot in the waist.”
Durango
replied.

“When did this happen?” She would need to know if infection had already set in.

“Just yesterday,”
Durango
said. “We’re going to need whatever light you have available. Bullets need to be dug out and wounds sewed up.”

Elizabeth
nodded and tried to grab a shred of self-control. These men needed doctoring, and she couldn’t allow her anger at
Durango
to cloud her skills and deny them help.

“You aren’t going to run, are you, Doc?”
Durango
asked in a cold, determined tone. She could also detect the underlying pain he was trying to hide, too. Pain from the bullet she’d put into him.

Guilt swamped through her, and she shook her head. No, she wouldn’t run. At least not yet. He let go of her, and she moved into action, spitting out orders for
Durango
to get the fire going in the fireplace so she could boil water for the utensils she’d need. She also instructed Landon to get Tyrell into the first bedroom to the right down the hallway. It was the biggest one and the one she and
Durango
had used when he’d been here.

Sweet mercy, he’d kept her hot and aroused when he’d lived here, and then later when Landon had come to live with them, her arousal had doubled.
Elizabeth
pushed aside those unwanted thoughts and hurried to grab some clean linen from a closet.