Each Time We Love (18 page)

Feeling as if she had stumbled into the blackest nightmare of
her life, Savanna was dragged ungently toward the tethered horses. It
had been mere moments since Adam had first cried out, and Savanna was
still shocked by his sudden escape and the naked intent of his kiss.
She knew that she had to act immediately, knew that she should scream
or fight or make a run for it, but it was as if her brain and body both
had become cotton wool and she could only half walk, half stumble in
the direction in which he forced her. Frantically she tried to clear
her thoughts, to concentrate, to find a way out of this new and
horrible dilemma she found herself in. But Adam moved with a terrifying
swiftness and efficiency, and before she knew it, her hands were tied
to the saddle horn, Adam was astride the other horse, and with the
reins of her horse held firmly in his hand, he was plunging them into
the forest.

For Savanna, this nightmarish turn of events was all too
familiar, almost identical to Micajah's abduction of her, but this
time, she raged miserably, it was infinitely worse. Micajah was a
devil, a brutal killer, no doubt about it, but this man… Even knowing
that he was a murderer and a scoundrel every bit as bad as Micajah
didn't stop this man from arousing emotions within her that she had
never felt before and which, perhaps most of all, she found the hardest
to stomach. With Micajah, she had lived every second in fear of rape;
with this man, she feared that when he decided to take her, it wouldn't
be
rape… Fear mingling with fury, she stared
daggers at the back of the tall man on the horse in front of her,
certain she hated him more than any man she had ever met!

Adam's thoughts about Savanna weren't any kinder than hers
about him either! She was a damned aggravating nuisance that he must
have been addle-witted to have brought with him! The trip was going to
be treacherous enough without a fractious, red-haired virago-tongued,
undeniably beautiful creature like Savanna O'Rourke along. God! He must
have been mad! He cursed himself viciously and roundly, but despite
being thoroughly disgusted with himself, he didn't cut her loose or
turn her free. Nor did his aroused body forget the drugging taste of
her lips or what she had felt like crushed against him…

The second time a pine bough slapped him painfully in the
face, Adam reflected darkly that it was time to stop thinking about his
unwilling companion and to start concentrating on his next move. It had
been just luck that he had escaped, and he was quite aware that he was
going to need a lot more than just luck if he was to come out of this
scrape alive—and keep Jason from falling afoul of Micajah and Jeremy.

Adam's mouth twisted. I should have killed Jeremy when I had
the chance, he thought impatiently. Then I'd have only that bastard
Micajah to worry about tracking me down!

He frowned, thinking hard. He had discovered a lot about his
captors during the past few days, and one thing was very clear—the only
real sustained danger appeared to be Micajah. Jeremy might have found
the dying Davalos and learned the rest of it, but alone, Jeremy would
have accomplished very little. It was when he had joined up with the
burly man that Jeremy had become a threat. Adam shook his head. And to
think that he had innocently come to Terre du Coeur because he had been
bored at Belle Vista! He certainly wasn't bored anymore, but it had to
have been the devil's own luck that he had been mistaken for Jason
Savage!

Since keeping Micajah from finding out his mistake and going
after the
real
Jason Savage was imperative, Adam
concluded that until he had managed to either pull Micajah's fangs or
kill him, it wouldn't be safe or wise to go anywhere near Terre du
Coeur or New Orleans… and before he headed for Belle Vista, he would
have to make certain that he had completely shaken Micajah off his
trail. Adam grimaced, not liking the prospect facing him. His only
option, he finally decided, was to lead Micajah deep into Texas, and
only when he was certain that he had lost him would he circle back and
head for Natchez.

Even while he had been thinking deeply, Adam had also been
paying attention to his whereabouts, and when the horses came to a
stream, he immediately turned them into the current and proceeded to
keep them going at a brisk pace down the middle of the shallow creek.
He didn't know how good a tracker Micajah might be, but there was sure
as hell no reason to make it easy for him.

Adam couldn't hazard a guess about how much time he had until
Micajah was on his trail—he could have minutes or hours; it all
depended on how soon Micajah found some game or gave up and returned to
camp. An unpleasant smile curved his mouth as he thought of Micajah's
reaction when he discovered that the quarry had fled and taken the
woman with him. Somehow the notion of stealing Micajah's woman, if
Savanna
was
Micajah's woman—and Adam was still
undecided about
that
— pleased him almost as much
as escaping.

Glancing at the sky, Adam figured he had less than two hours
of daylight, and since his whole purpose was to make things difficult
for Micajah, he didn't see any harm in following the windings of the
stream for the time being. At the moment he was simply content to put
as much distance as possible between himself and Micajah—and hide his
passing.

In the rush to escape, Adam hadn't wasted time making an
inventory of what supplies he had, but over an hour later, having seen
no sign of nor heard any sounds of pursuit, and aware of the sudden
increase of dark clouds overhead, he decided to take advantage of the
rapidly disappearing light to check out what the horses carried in
their saddlebags. Bringing the animals to the edge of the creek, Adam
dismounted on the muddy shore and made a swift but thorough examination
of his stolen goods.

They weren't much: two horses, two saddles, one filthy
bedroll, an old pair of slave-shackles with an iron key, a sack of
shelled corn, which they'd have to share with the horses, a skillet, a
pot, some fire-starter, a small leather bag of shot and powder, the
rifle and knife he'd taken from Jeremy and, of course, Savanna…

Staring at her in the gathering shadows, Adam remembered again
what her soft body had felt like pressed against his, and a wolfish
grin slashed across his face. He could get used to thieving if the
booty included a flame-haired, sea-eyed witch like the one glaring
warily at him.

Inexplicably satisfied with the situation, Adam swung up into
the saddle and once again urged the animals into the center of the
stream. The few tracks they had made on the muddy bank would be
obliterated by either the rain that was likely to fall at any minute or
the rushing water of the creek.

Not ten minutes later, it began to rain softly at first and
then with increasing strength. Already tired, hungry and angrily
apprehensive, Savanna was now thoroughly miserable as the rain
gradually soaked through her clothing. The fading light had almost
vanished with the clouds, and she wondered if her captor intended to
ride all night. When he urged their horses from the stream a few
seconds later, she felt a faint stirring of hope. Perhaps he was
planning to find a spot to make camp. But then, as she thought of that
blunt kiss he had forced upon her and what might happen when they did
finally stop, her spirits plunged even lower.

Despite being every bit as wet, tired and hungry as Savanna,
Adam wasn't about to call a halt to their wild dash from Micajah's
vicinity. Darkness might be falling, the rain might be damned
uncomfortable, but it was a godsend as far as he was concerned: by the
time the rain stopped, all signs of their tracks should be effectively
erased, and he wanted to take full advantage of that. Micajah might
eventually pick up their trail, but it was going to take him days
instead of hours, and Adam smiled with a savage satisfaction as he
prodded his horse forward.

The darker it became, the harder it rained and the slower
their progress was, but beyond dismounting and leading both animals,
Adam kept moving steadily through the pines. The ground was fairly
level and the thick carpet of needles muffled the sounds of the horses'
hooves and left little proof of their passing, but after an hour or so,
even Adam had to acknowledge that it would be wise to stop—at least
until the rain ceased.

There wasn't much in the way of protection available, and
deciding that the driest place they were likely to find tonight was
under the sheltering limbs of a tree, Adam finally halted the horses
beneath the heavy branches of a huge pine. Despite the downpour, it was
relatively dry under the tree, the pine boughs making an effective
umbrella.

Dismounting, Adam tied the horses and quickly released
Savanna's hands from the saddle horn and, as if she were a
featherweight, swung her effortlessly to the ground. Though no longer
tied to the saddle, her hands were still bound, but it was so wonderful
to be off the back of the horse that she sighed with pleasure.

Hearing that sound, Adam asked softly, "Tired? You should
be—it's been a very long day and I'm afraid that it's not over with
yet."

In the gloom of the darkness, Savanna could barely make out
his lean features, but she could see the gleam of his teeth and the
half smile that curved his mouth. The smile both angered and alarmed
her— how
could
he smile at a time like this? And
how could she find his smile so utterly attractive? Mentally she shook
herself. She
was
tired, very nearly exhausted, in
fact, and was certainly in no mood to cross wits with the infuriating
devil who had kidnapped her, but her temper betrayed her as, shrugging,
she muttered ungraciously, "I've felt worse, and I'm sure if I'm forced
to spend very much time in
your
company, I'm
going to feel a lot worse!"

The smile was wiped from his face. Legs spread apart, thumbs
hooked into the waist of his breeches, he made a long, openly brazen
survey of her tautly held form, those hard blue eyes stripping her wet
gown from her body.

"Perhaps," he drawled insolently, after a humiliating length
of time. "But I'm positive that you're going to make
me
feel very good!"

His meaning was obvious, and glaring furiously at him, Savanna
snarled, "I wouldn't count on it— unless, of course, you enjoy forcing
yourself upon an unwilling woman!"

His gaze narrowed, and catching each side of her face in his
two hands, he tipped her head backward. Brushing his lips against hers,
he murmured outrageously, "Ah, but, sweetheart, when I make love to
you, you
won't
be unwilling!"

Crushing her soft mouth under his, Adam kissed her hungrily,
holding her head firmly imprisoned between his hands when she tried to
jerk away. His lips and tongue brooked no escape and he explored and
plundered her mouth at will, taking precisely what he wanted, the
honied warmth he conquered even sweeter than he remembered.

A bolt of guilty, giddy pleasure shot through Savanna's body
at the first touch of his lips on hers, and when his marauding tongue
thrust boldly into her mouth, she shivered uncontrollably. The motions
of his tongue were pointedly carnal, and to her horror, her nipples
suddenly sprang erect beneath her damp gown, deep in her belly an odd
sensation of warmth flamed into life and between her thighs she felt a
tingling heat. Frightened at how easily he conjured up feelings and
emotions that she had only guessed at before his disruptive advent into
her world, Savanna began to struggle in his arms. Reminding herself
precisely
who
he was gave an added impetus to her
movements, and she managed to jerk her mouth from the beguiling warmth
of his. Eyes blazing, she spat, "But I
am
unwilling!"

An infuriating grin suddenly tugged at the corners of his
lips. "Hmm, you say the words, but your body tells me something far
different!"

"It does
not,
you conceited jackass!"
Savanna insisted breathlessly.

The grin faded from his face and, his expression intent, he
growled, "Call me all the names you like, sweetheart, but don't try to
deny
this!"

His lips crushed against hers once more, and despite all her
protestations, as his tongue again began its bluntly demanding
exploration of her soft mouth, she was dizzyingly aware of an
insidious, insistent fire instantly flicking through her veins. Her
mind might reject him, but her young, healthy body clamored eagerly for
more of the wanton responses he aroused with such terrifying ease. But
she fought fiercely against those powerful emotions, struggling
violently in his arms.

Aching to discover all the secrets of her sweet, supple form,
Adam easily subdued her thrashing body against his, and he might have
gone on kissing her indefinitely, but just then one of the horses threw
up its head and snorted loudly.

Instantly alert to danger, Adam jerked his lips from Savanna's
and placed one hand over her mouth, while with his other hand he
grabbed the rifle. Straining to hear any sound, his gaze piercing the
darkness, he searched intently for whatever had caught the horse's
attention, but part of his mind was on what had just transpired. Jesus!
Another minute and he'd have had her on the ground—and wouldn't
that
have been a ridiculous position for Micajah to find them in! Furious
with himself, Adam glanced down at her and, his dark blue eyes deadly,
he muttered, "One sound out of you, spitfire, and you'll feel the butt
end of this rifle against that lovely head of yours. Understand?"

Staggered by the sudden plunge from the drugging world of
erotic discovery to the present, Savanna stared up at him dumbly,
grasping frantically at the thoughts and sensations that whipped
through her brain and her body. But she hadn't survived by being
slow-witted, and despite her stunned condition, she nodded almost
immediately.