The Stealth Commandos Trilogy (22 page)

“Chase!” Annie’s eyes flashed a warning. “That’s getting a little personal, don’t you think? Now please get us out of here!”

Her tone brooked no more nonsense, but Chase wasn’t anywhere near through with Johnny Starhawk. He went for the ladder, and once he had them both out of the pit, he resumed the sparring match with his ex-partner. “Starhawk on marriage?” Chase shot at Johnny. “That’s a ripe one. You’re incapable of committing to a relationship. You’d make a good woman miserable.”

“You already have, Beaudine,” Johnny cut back, with a meaningful glance at Annie.

Chase’s eyes flared with violence that was barely in check. His voice dropped low, obscenely calm. “Let’s finish this conversation outside,” he said. “Just you and me, Starhawk.”

Annie caught her breath. She’d seen Chase kill a man in Costa Brava, but she’d never seen him look more deadly than at this moment. The blunt force of his anger swept the room, stunning her to silence. He was demonically dark, breathtaking. But someone was going to get hurt, she realized.

Johnny responded to Chase’s challenge with a slow nod.

“No!” Annie cried. “That’s enough, you two! I’m not going to marry either one of you, is that clear? And I don’t appreciate being a trophy to be won by the fastest gun.”

“Stay out of this, Annie.” As Chase pulled off his denim jacket, tossing aside the coat, a sizable chunk of bluish glass flew out of his pocket and landed at Annie’s feet.

Annie knelt to pick up the glass, noting the whitish coating and medicinal smell. On the other side of the glass, a small section of the label still remained. “Chase!” she said, rising. “Where did you get this?”

“Why?”

“It’s the same antacid the foreman bought in the drugstore.”

“What are you talking about?” Chase stopped in the process of rolling up his sleeves. He stared at Annie hard, putting his wrath on hold for an instant. “What foreman?”

Annie quickly recounted the story about meeting the foreman from the McAffrey ranch and giving him some tips about natural medicine. “He didn’t take my advice,” she observed.

Chase took the glass from Annie, examining it. “He was swigging this stuff in the Prairie Oyster Tavern.” Chase’s focus shot inward as he stared at the glass, as though he was thinking hard and fast, putting things together. “That S.O.B.,” he said under his breath. “He’s been paying Jack to be a decoy, to throw me off the track while he loots his own ranch—and everybody else’s.”

“Who?” Annie asked.

“Yeah, who?” Johnny echoed.

“The McAffreys’ foreman,” said Chase, still fixated on the glass. “He must have been meeting Jack up at the shack, paying him off. He was probably behind the jailbreak too.”

“Really?” Annie was fascinated. “The foreman’s been rustling cattle from his own ranch? Just like in the book I read?”

“Not exactly,” Chase said. “He’s been hiring ‘ranch hands’ to do his dirty work for him. But he’s the mastermind, I’d bet my life on it.” Chase dropped the piece of glass in his shirt pocket, scooped up his denim jacket, and grabbed a rifle off the wall. A look of total and savage concentration crossed his features.

“Hey!” said Annie, watching him stride toward the door. “Where are you going?”

“To get that bastard,” Chase said bluntly. “He’s been screwing with me for weeks. Now I’m going to screw him—right into the ground.”

“All right!” Johnny’s voice was husky with laughter as he joined Chase. “Let’s kick some butt. I’ll go with you, buddy. You may need backup.”

Annie stood there, astonished as the two men broke into grins and slapped hands in some sort of male ritual. A moment later they were heading out the door as though they’d forgotten she was there. Or had ever been there!

It was their macho laughter that galvanized Annie into action. Not two minutes ago they’d been fighting over her! Now she could hear them outside, loading rifles, trading war stories, and whatever other silly things males did when they were planning to “kick butt.”

She noticed Chase’s bullwhip lying on the cot where he’d left it, apparently forgotten in his haste. She remembered vividly the times he’d used the ghastly thing on her. Had anyone ever used it on him? she wondered.

The two men were getting into the Bronco when Annie stepped out onto the front porch. “Chase Beaudine!” she called out, whip in hand. “Don’t you dare get into that car.”

Chase glanced up, his dark eyes shadowed by his Stetson. “Annie? What are you doing?”

“Whatever I have to,” she said, shaking the whip out as though she fully intended to use it. “You’re not going anywhere, cowboy. Not until I’m through with you.”

Johnny let out a soft war whoop. “She sounds serious.”

“Annie, be reasonable,” Chase said. “I’ve got a rustler to deal with here—”

“No, you’ve got a woman to deal with. Here. That foreman isn’t going anywhere. He can wait. I can’t.”

“Beaudine!” Johnny let out a howl of rich laughter. “You didn’t tell me she could crack the whip! I’m in love.”

Annie’s head was not turned by the flattery. She addressed Chase’s ex-partner politely, her voice steely-soft. “Johnny, it’s been wonderful meeting you again after all these years, but would you please leave? Chase and I have some talking to do.”

Neither man moved immediately, so Annie descended the steps into the open, the whip slithering behind her as she took a stand, facing Chase. Her hand began to shake as she drew the rawhide thong up, getting the feel of it. She had no idea whether she could actually throw a whip or not, but she’d learned from observing the best, Chase himself. Every nuance of his prowess with the terrifying weapon, even his slightest muscle twitch, was recorded indelibly in her mind.

Chase marveled as he watched Annie struggle with the bullwhip. It reared up, dipping and bobbing like a drunken snake as she tried to throw it, and then it dropped to the ground with a limp shudder. Swearing a blue streak, she kept at it until the snake began to sober up a little.

Chase bit back a smile. She looked like Calamity Jane having a bad day. At the rate she was going, it would take her till Christmas, but his heart went out to her. The whip was almost three times her size, and he knew she was scared to death of it. She must have been in a hell-hot fury even to touch the thing.

“Annie, put it down,” he said finally, approaching her. “Somebody could get hur—” But before he could get the last word out, before he could even blink his astonished eyes, the rawhide thong arced up and flashed at him like a lightning strike, snapping the Stetson clean off his head.

“Hot damn,” Johnny whispered.

Chase’s heart kicked like a vicious rodeo bronco. He raked a hand through his dark hair in astonishment, unable to believe what she’d done. She could have taken his eye out! He wanted to be angry with her, but it wasn’t possible. The stunned admiration he felt didn’t leave room for any other emotion. Her features were ablaze with a triumphant smile, her eyes crackling with hot blue excitement. She was truly the damnedest, sexiest woman he’d ever known.

“Get the hell out of here, would you, Johnny?” Chase said. “I’ve got a woman to deal with.”

“Lucky dog.” Johnny chuckled softly as he headed for a crimson Ferrari Testarossa parked off the road. As he reached the gleaming car, he called back, “I’ll be in town at the hotel if you need me, Chase. Be gentle with him, Annie.”

Johnny was gone in a cloud of pale dust, leaving Annie and Chase to stand there under the sweltering Wyoming sun, taking each other’s measure. Annie felt a surge of sweet terror as she witnessed the whipcrack of desire in Chase’s eyes. Dark lightning, she thought. The man looked as though he meant to have her right there on the grass.

He started toward her, and she yanked back the whip, menacing him. “Back it up, cowboy,” she said. “You’re not getting near me until I get some answers.”

“Annie, I don’t give one sweet damn about catching rustlers at the moment. Is that what you wanted to hear? All I want is you, Angel, flat on your back and spread-eagled, hotter than hell and wanting me back.”

“Chase! Stop that!” She backed up, a bubble of startled laughter betraying her outrage. “You’re not touching me until you explain yourself! I don’t give a damn about rustlers either. I want to know why you said those things to Johnny. About being married to me, and the union being consummated?”

“Well, we are married.” His rugged features drifted into a sensual smile as he realized where her concerns lay. “And we did consummate ... last night. You haven’t forgotten how we finally managed that, have you, Annie? I know I never will.”

He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, which drew his snug jeans even lower than usual on his hips. It was a blatantly sexy move, and had the effect of reminding Annie exactly how they’d managed to consummate, down to the last embarrassing detail. If he was playing games with her, he was an incredibly cruel man.

“You heard me, Beaudine,” she warned softly, fiercely. “Explain yourself. Last night you wanted nothing whatsoever to do with marriage, screaming brats, or yellow curtains, remember?”

Chase drew in a deep breath, as though to settle things down and get control of the situation. He straightened his collar and combed a hand through his hair, making its dark wildness a little more presentable. “I’m saying I’ll honor the marriage if that’s what you want,” he told her. “I’ll go to the immigration people, and tell them I married you in Costa Brava. I’m saying it’s official, Annie. You’re my wife.”

Listening to him, Annie had a sensation of lightness that swept her whole body. She thought her heart was going to float right out of her chest. There was just one thing keeping her planted on the ground. His choice of words. It’s official? That was much too sterile a reference for Annie. She couldn’t imagine why he’d used a phrase like that ... unless it was his conscience talking. What had he done? Spent all night convincing himself to do the right thing by her?

“I don’t want sacrifices from you, Chase. I might have accepted that offer the day I came here, but not now. Too much has happened.”

Chase didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the irony of the situation. The tables had been turned. Last night he’d been questioning her motives. Now she didn’t trust his. Somehow he had to make her understand what he hadn’t understood himself, that he’d been opened up last night, first by the physical act of love, and then by the brush with death. He’d been opened up by knowing her.

“I’m not sacrificing anything, Annie. I’ve been winking at death all my life. Maybe that was the only thing that made me feel alive. But I’ve got a better reason to draw breath now. We’re married—and I want it that way.”

“You do? Why?”

That was the question. He and Annie Wells were total opposites. They went at things completely differently. There were a dozen contradictions in her nature, but there was one underlying truth at the heart of her. She was a willow, unconquerably strong, surrendering gracefully to the inevitable. Whereas he was as rigid as a giant blue oak. But he was learning. Learning how to lose the fight and win the war, learning how to love a woman.

“I can’t put it into words,” he told her, “not the exact words anyway. I know a woman likes to hear how a man’s out-of-his-head in love and can’t live without her. And all that’s true enough in my case, but it’s not the reason. It’s something much simpler, and not very poetic.”

He heaved a sigh, trying to find words for something that couldn’t be explained. “I feel better about myself when I’m around you, Annie. I just do. Oh, I know that’s hard to believe the way I’ve been acting lately. But it’s there, inside me.” His voice gave way on him, cracking as he added, “Something that’s never been there before.”

“Chase ... ”

“I love you, Annie.”

Annie choked back a quaver of wild disbelief, of joy. She was too shocked to move, too shaken, which was probably all right, because she never would have made it over to where he stood. Suddenly he was miles away, and a huge, impassible chasm seemed to separate them. It was a chasm created by her own astonished heart. She’d wanted this so long, so badly, she simply couldn’t believe it was happening.

“Come here, Annie,” he said, holding out his arms.

Tears blurred her vision as she felt the irresistible tug of his husky voice. She could remember so clearly her prophecy of what would happen if he ever said those words to her. She would go to him. She wouldn’t have any choice. He would own her, body and soul.

“Oh, God, Chase.” She closed her eyes, unaccountably frightened as she tried to find the means to move. The more she fought the strange paralysis, the more her arms seemed anchored at her sides, her legs weighted down. And suddenly he was there, dragging her into his arms, a harsh groan on his lips. He had come to her.

She flung her arms around his neck with a sob of relief. Tears stung her eyes as she surrendered to the rough passion of his embrace, thrilling to the way he lifted her off her feet in a fierce hug.

He settled her back on the ground and brought her head up, his eyes probing her mind, her heart, sinking to the depths of her soul. “Do you still want to be my wife, Annie? Will you marry me? Again?”

The answer swept into Annie’s mind on a peal of bells so clamorous, it probably reverberated throughout the known universe. But when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out except a hoarse squeak of emotion.

“Was that a yes, Annie? Because, to be honest with you, I don’t have a whole lot to give a woman.” He caught hold of her hand, bringing it up in the traditional style of a man about to put a ring on a woman’s finger. Instead, he drew something from his shirt pocket and settled it gently into her cupped palm. “But I can promise you this. There will always be flowers.”

Annie looked down at the daisy he’d placed in her hand, a new and perfect flower to replace the one long dead that he’d “picked” for her with his whip. Something unbearably sweet flared through her senses, making it impossible to tell him how much she loved the flower, how terribly she loved him.

She brought the daisy to her lips, tears in her eyes. “It’s enough,” she said.

I
T WAS A
summer morning too perfect for anything but the quiet celebration of nature, picking wild blackberries on the banks of a lazy mountain river ... or marrying the man you adore alongside it. Annie chose the latter, and she had never looked more lovely. Her wedding gown was a simple white organdy, its sweetheart neckline revealing soft, rounded shoulders and porcelain skin, glowing with excitement. A garland of wild daisies adorned her copper-colored hair.