Ruthless Game (8 page)

He swore he could hear each separate beat of his heart. She groaned softly, and he let out his breath. She slowly turned onto her back. Blood smeared her face from the sand burning it as she hit the ground. She’d obviously covered her belly instead of her face. Her breathing was loud and ragged as she fought for air.

“Don’t move, Rose.” His voice sounded strangled. Without the enhancements of her illusions, she looked like a broken doll, smashed on the sand. His first instinct was to gather her in his arms and just cradle her against him where she’d be safe, but it was too late for that.

“Give me a minute,” she gasped.

Pain didn’t show on her face, but it was there in her eyes. And fear. She was very frightened. He smoothed back her hair. “Don’t be afraid, Rose. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or the baby.”

She swallowed hard and let out her breath. “I’m counting on that.”

He could feel the tension ebbing out of her. Grateful that she was beginning to trust him a little, he swept his arm around her shoulders to help ease her into a sitting position.

She managed a small smile. “I think I should have thought that particular part of the plan through a little better.” She looked around her. “We’ve got to get moving. I’m hoping we can disturb the sand enough to cover our tracks, and they’ll think we went into the ravine with the car.”

Kane looked around him. Sand stretched out for miles. “This could be bad, Rose. The farther we get away from the city, the more chances are we’ll get caught out in the open.”

“Not if you know where you’re going.”

He sighed and reached down to help her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily and clung to him. That small show of fragility shook him. Rose was such a mixture both ultra-feminine and ultrasoldier. She didn’t flinch from combat, yet she leaned into him, so soft and vulnerable, his heart ached.

“Enlighten me.” He sounded gruff, but she’d twisted his insides up, and he wasn’t certain how to react to her. He damn well wasn’t going to force himself on her ever again, but just being close to her made him feel different inside.

She moved, a soft, subtle, very feminine retreat. He felt something hard press against his chest, right over his heart, and he stiffened, glancing down at the barrel of the gun and the absolute steadiness in her small hand. His gaze jumped to hers. Her eyes stared without blinking, no hesitation. The woman meant business. So much for soft and feminine. Fury burst through him, but he didn’t move, didn’t show her anything at all.

“Throw it away, Kane. You’re either with me or against me. If you’re with me, throw the tracker into the ravine.”

There was nothing sweet about her voice. He considered wrapping his long fingers around her neck and strangling her right there.

“If I throw the tracker into the ravine, we have no resources—no backup. They’ll come get us in a few days. We just have to lay low.”

She still didn’t blink. “This child is never going to fall into Whitney’s hands. Not
ever.
I need help, Kane, and I’m willing to trust you, but only you. You have to make a decision.”

Fury knotted the muscles in his belly. Anyone who knew him would have been alarmed by his calm demeanor and the cool, flat look in his eyes. “What are you going to do, Rose? Shoot me?” His voice dropped lower than ever, softer, even more deceptive. “You’re going to shoot the father of your child?”

She blinked. He slapped the gun away, turning sideways to present a smaller target. His fingers closed in a brutal grip around her wrist and he twisted, dropping her to her knees, extracting the gun from her fist and holding her locked in position. With one hand he engaged the safety and shoved the gun into his belt.

“You ever point a gun at me again, Rose, pull the fucking trigger. Do we understand each other?” He chose not to look at the pain on her face or the tears swimming, turning those dark eyes to soft, melting chocolate. He didn’t let up on the pressure on her wrist. If she moved, it would break. They both knew it. “You don’t know me, Rose. You just think you do. I’m not the sweet, malleable man you took me for. You aren’t going to manipulate me.”

She swallowed and blinked rapidly in an effort to dispel the tears. “Let me up.”

“Are you going to try to stick a knife in me next?”

“If you don’t let go, I’ll most likely consider it.”

He eased the pressure on her wrist, allowing her to get to her feet, but he was much more careful, not trusting her now. She pulled away from him and put both hands protectively on her swollen belly. She was trembling, but her eyes met his steadily, even defiantly. They stared at one another.

“We don’t have all night,” he reminded.

“No, we don’t. But I’m not moving until you throw away the tracker. I’m more scared of Whitney getting my baby than I am of a drug cartel. I’ll go down fighting, Kane.”

He clenched his teeth. Damn, she was stubborn. He could tell by the set of her jaw, her raised chin, and the flash of fire in her eyes that she wasn’t bluffing. She planned on staying right where she was..

“You are aware these people like to chop off heads.” That should make any woman reasonable, let alone a pregnant one.

“I’ve seen them do it. It’s not a pretty sight,” she answered, her chin raising a notch.

Okay. Maybe pregnant women weren’t reasonable. It wasn’t like he’d ever been around a woman about to give birth. It could be they were all nuts. And every good sense he had was flying out the window. He should have put her over his knee and taught her a lesson, especially after she had the audacity to pull a gun on him, but instead, he wanted to kiss that little chin.

“Rose.” He used his most logical and sensible tone. “If I toss the tracker, and something goes wrong, we aren’t going to have a ride out of here.”

“I’m used to relying on myself. Don’t worry, if you’re afraid, I can take care of both of us. I know you surround yourself with that big, bad team ...”

She broke off when he took a step toward her, the taunting laughter fading from her eyes. He noted one hand had slipped inside her jacket, fingers curling around the hilt of her knife.

“Don’t piss me off any more than you already have,” he snapped and ripped the tracker out of the lining of his shirt. He threw his lifeline into the ravine. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“There’s none inside your body?”

He gave her his blackest scowl, and this time, he really was on the edge of losing his temper. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

She had the grace to look ashamed. Rose turned and walked out into the night, head up, body confident. They were walking
away
from any road he could see. He followed without comment until he reached the top of the first rolling dune. Turning back, he raised his hand to the sky. It was incredibly difficult to move air when there was little breeze to “push,” but he’d done it a time or two. Rose had remembered from their conversations in her small prison room.

The wind tugged at the grains of sand, filling in their footsteps and the places where they’d both landed and rolled. He took his time, making a thorough job of it. The tire tracks were smudged in places, but it certainly would look to the world as if they’d gone into the ravine with the sedan. If anyone went to recover the bodies—and he was certain they would—their ruse would be discovered, but it would be too late.

He turned his head to look at the woman carrying his baby. She had continued walking, trusting him to get the job done. There was some satisfaction in that. She didn’t want him, but she needed him. He stretched his legs a little to catch up, but her shorter strides made it easy. Every now and then he sent the air skimming over their tracks, just to ensure their safety.

Rose walked briskly at first, her spine stiff, but after the first mile, she eased the pace, glancing back at him. “I’m sorry about the gun, Kane. I didn’t know what else to do.”

His heart twisted. Damn her anyway. She was tying him up in knots, and he was in grave danger of buying into her feminine frailty all over again. He thought it best not to look at her. Instead, he studied their surroundings. She wasn’t in the best of shape; he could hear her breathing begin to grow heavier. She stopped on the pretense of looking around as well, but he knew she needed to rest. He didn’t make a comment on her lack of physical fitness, after all she was pregnant. But surely even pregnant women could walk a mile without breathing hard.

She shot him a glare he couldn’t fail to catch even in the dark without his night vision. She breathed in and out twice as if trying to remain calm when he was annoying her. “You’re shouting your thoughts, and rather rudely too.”

His eyebrow shot up. “I’m not the one breathing like a racehorse at the end of the race. Aren’t women these days supposed to be in great shape even when they’re pregnant?”

She dropped her hand to her belt, and he stepped close, his fingers curling around her wrist with a loud slapping sound. She winced and glared at him again. “I might want to shoot you, but the noise might attract the cartel. Actually, I’m getting my GPS out just to make certain we’re on the right course.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“A while back I met an elderly man,” she said as she consulted her GPS and then turned slightly to the right to lead them more directly into the desert. “We became friends of sorts. He was ill and there was no one to help him, so I did.” She slipped the GPS away and began walking briskly again. “He had no family and was dying of cancer. He had moved to the apartment near mine. We talked all the time, and in the course of the conversation, he told me about the home he and his wife had built in the desert.”

Kane shook his head, easily keeping pace with her. A slow smile started somewhere in the pit of his stomach. That was his woman—resourceful.

“You can barely see it from the air, and it looks small, abandoned, and nothing more than an old, broken-down roof lying in the dirt and sand. It’s perfect. I’ve been bringing supplies to it about every three weeks. I haven’t gotten a lot, but I didn’t want to leave evidence that anyone had been around the place.”

He flashed her a quick, appreciative grin when she glanced at him. “I’m going to have to watch out for you. You’re smart and always thinking, aren’t you?”

“I had to think about the baby, and I didn’t know he would have a secluded house in the desert no one knew about. Did I mention the dune buggy?”

She sounded a little smug, but he supposed she had the right. She certainly took care of business. They walked in silence for another couple of miles, and she stopped abruptly, hunched over a little, one hand pressed tight to her side, as if she had a stitch. Her breathing was ragged again. He waited in silence, noting she seemed not to want him to notice. He had to quit making comments on her being out of condition. He stared up at the clear night sky instead, pretending interest in the stars, but the scent of her enveloped him.

Now that they weren’t running for their lives, his body insisted on reacting to hers. It was physical, he reminded himself. They’d talked months ago, conversing in low tones or using the more intimate telepathic communication when they feared the guards would overhear them and report back to Whitney. Kane had been impressed with her courage. Mostly he respected that she treated him as if he were a human being and not a monster bent on rape. She could have been crying and screaming, but she had cooperated, trying to relax, even going so far as encouraging him despite the circumstances.

He pressed two fingers to his throbbing temples. Every time he thought about her first time with him, he got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. For him, their union had been paradise, her body hot, velvet soft, so tight he thought he was in heaven. But he knew, no matter how slow he’d gone, how careful he’d been, he’d hurt her.

She straightened up, breathing deeply. “I’m sorry. I just need to rest.”

He handed her water and watched carefully to see that she drank it. She looked exhausted and the smears of blood along with the sand burn on her face bothered him more than they should have. He used water on the hem of his shirt to gently wipe the smears from her face. She stood without protest, allowing him to clean her face.

“Does it hurt?”

She sent him a small smile. “In the grand scheme of things, no. I’ve been thinking about the kid. We just left him there for the cartel to slice and dice while they questioned him.”

“Javier has the kid,” Kane soothed, slipping his arm around her shoulders and bringing her close to his warmth. Maybe everything was just too much for someone so fragile. She was disoriented and couldn’t remember things clearly.

She shook her head. “The teenager. The one tied up. I felt his pulse, and he was alive, but he was unconscious, maybe dying. There was a lot of blood on the floor around him. I should have done something. You know they’ll kill him.”

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, “we had no choice. We couldn’t have taken him with us. He didn’t see us. Hopefully they’ll realize that and let him go.”

“They were never going to let him go.” She turned her face up to the sky.

Rose looked so sad his heart gave a curious shiver, and it took great effort not to pull her into his arms. He had to keep reminding himself, what he felt for her had nothing to do with emotion, and she felt
nothing
for him. He thought of her as his woman. The one woman. The only. She belonged to him, and he wanted to comfort and protect her, to hold her close to him and make her world a wonderful place. She would be appalled if she knew how he felt—not just appalled but frightened. And if he was entirely truthful with himself, she might have cause to be afraid. He planned on courting her.

He hadn’t gotten off to a very good start. She’d already tried to shoot him, and she definitely had considered shoving a knife into him. The remark about her being out of condition hadn’t helped his cause either. Kane frowned. So far, his scorecard read pretty much zero. A big fat zero, to be exact.

“No, they were drunk and they wanted
el presidente
’s nephew to kill him. I’m sorry we couldn’t save him, Rose, but we had no time, and we had to get the five-year-old to safety.”