UNDER BY DURESS (5 page)

“You’ve got a stick in your arm. Can’t you feel it?”

“My arms are dead, remember.”

She gestured to a nearby rock. “Sit down.”

He shook his head. “I just want to get to this cabin.”

“Sit down,” she snapped, running out of patience. Guilt lent an edge to her tone. This injury was her fault.

He shuffled forward then sat on the rock. “You know there is a reason not to hike cross-country at night,” he muttered, annoyingly echoing her thoughts.

Tahima rolled his torn sleeve out of the way and examined the damage. The beam revealed the twig had gone deep. She got out her first aid kit, selected wipes, peroxide, and bandage, and then gripped the flashlight in her teeth so she could see what she was doing.

“This might hurt,” she mumbled around it.

“Nothing compared to my pride,” he snarled. “Just do it, will you?”

Tahima pulled the splinter gently; scared it would break and leave debris inside.

Now he hissed. “Okay, I felt that.”

The thin branch slithered out, a whole inch ending in a sharp point. She took the flashlight out of her mouth. “I think I got it. Not much bleeding.”

He grunted.

She decided not to mess around and poured peroxide directly onto the wound. Rossini nearly launched sky high.

“
Cazzo
! Some warning would have been good.”

Tahima slapped gauze on top of the wound and pressed hard. “Don’t be a baby. This is
nothing
remember.”

“I never put you down for a sadist.”

“I’m learning a lot about me, too.” She started wrapping bandage around his arm, forcing it between the narrow gap between his arm and upper body.

His body tensed as her fingers brushed his ribs, and it wasn’t a reaction to pain. His face turned towards her.

She finished wrapping, but didn’t move from his side. She couldn’t help herself, not with his lips mere inches away. He had a magnetism that drew her in. Her lips brushed the corner of his mouth and she shared his indrawn breath.

His shirt was already half out and it didn’t take much to tug more free from his pants. When he didn’t resist, her left hand stole up his taut stomach to touch his smooth chest. It was like her body acted independently of her mind. She could feel his rippling tension, and it ignited a tingling in her belly that swept right through her.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Her hand wandered down his naval and over his belt, then to his cock that was straining to escape. “You know the safe word.”

She heard his breath catch in his throat. He shifted under her touch. His heat blasted her senses.

“This isn’t the same, Tahima. I’m not yours to take. I’m your prisoner.” He groaned low in his throat. “Don’t make it something else, or we’ll never get through this.”

His words hit her like a cold shower. Confused and embarrassed, she snatched her hand away and stepped back. Her cheeks were on fire.

He rocked himself up to his feet and faced her. “But you are undeniably attractive. Believe me when I say I am feeling the loss. Now . . . please . . . can we find this cabin?”

~ Chapter Four ~

Tahima opened the unlocked door to the tiny hunter’s cabin and stepped in. She swept her flashlight around the interior bringing the dark shadows to life. A solid wood-railed bed was tucked into the far corner against the right-hand wall. There was a simple stove and wall cabinet near the door. Rossini took one look at the bed, groaned, shuffled past her and tumbled face down onto the unmade mattress.

She investigated the cabinet and found thick candles, tins of beans, cooking utensils, and extra blankets. Lighting a candle with the matches from her backpack, Tahima stood it on the stove. Rossini didn’t move. She studied him carefully. He rested on his right cheek. His eyes were closed, his dark lashes just visible in the candlelight. When his brow creased, she knew she could not leave him like this. The strain in his face was of a man in pain.

She pulled out her stun gun. “I’m going to unlock one cuff.”

His left eye opened.             

“When I do, lie on your back, and put your right arm above your head.”

He groaned. “I don’t think I can.”

She crouched down beside him so her face was level with his. “I’ll help. But you must give me your word. No trouble.”

Several emotions played on his face, rebellion chief among them, but his need for relief overcame them all. Maybe he’d assessed his chances and decided that his current condition made a bid for freedom risky at best. Whatever his reason, he nodded. “I give you my word—this time.”

Tahima nodded, satisfied. However, she wasn’t foolish enough to trust him so easily. Using her free hand, she unclipped the chain around her neck, inserted the key in the lock, and released his left wrist. Then she retreated to safety. “You can turn yourself over.”

That proved a struggle as his arms refused to cooperate. When she sensed his frustration boil over, she raised her stun gun. He caught the warning and doubled his efforts. He pushed up onto the elbow of his free arm and managed to turn over, the bed creaking under his shifting weight. He kicked his feet out to untwist the chain connecting his ankles.

Only when he was flat on his back and staring bleakly at the ceiling did she move forward, maintaining a tight grip on her weapon. The heavy handcuffs had pulled his right arm to the floor. Keeping her distance, she grabbed the open cuff and lifted his arm up and over his head. He was asleep before she’d locked it around the bed railing on the opposite side.

Certain he wasn’t going anywhere, Tahima sagged to the floor and rested her head against the wall. She felt strange. Exhausted. In control. Out of her mind.

Sakes alive, her body was wired.

She was alone in an isolated cabin with a hunk of a man chained to a bed. The thought had her squirming.
Damn
, she was facing a restless night.

She studied his profile. In all sorts of ways, Stephen couldn’t lift a candle to Gian Rossini. In fact, Stephen’s only redeeming feature was a resume that didn’t include murderer or crime boss. He was, however, a cad. Strangely, Rossini didn’t strike her that way.

Her thoughts drifted. When she almost nodded off, she got to her feet. She took a couple of blankets and a spare pillow from the cabinet, draped one blanket over Rossini, and arranged the rest on the floor.

*****

Tahima opened her eyes, not sure what had woken her. Sunlight flooded the cabin. As memory returned, she jolted upright, aching bones testifying to a tumble down a slope and a night spent on a hard floor. Holy Moley—she didn’t remember lying down. Rossini lay awkwardly on his hip watching her, his right arm twisted over his head and cuffed to the bed.

“You look better,” she commented. She rose to her feet.

He didn’t reply, falling onto his back, silent and brooding.

Tahima raised her eyebrows. “You thought your men would have tracked us by now.”

His lips thinned.

She noticed his right wrist was sorely chafed. He’d been trying to escape—got himself mad in the process. She decided not to say anything, but vowed not to take any more chances. His mood was so forbidding it occurred to her he was probably starving. They hadn’t eaten anything last night and they had a long day ahead.

She checked the supply cabinet and took down a can of beans that were within date. She found a can opener with the utensils. They could have the beans with the bread she’d brought with her. Her stomach growled. She was ravenous.

“You going to eat or sulk?” she said, striking a match and lighting the stove supplied by a gas canister. The pan was clean so she poured the beans in and set it on the flame.

“I can’t sit up. I can’t do anything.”

Tahima turned off the pan.

“I’m going to pee,” she said and left the cabin.

Devil’s teeth, he was in a foul mood. Depression covered her like a blanket at the thought of the uninviting day stretched out before her.

The thought of watching her back, keeping Rossini moving, and wondering if his search mob would find them at any moment, overwhelmed her. She needed to increase the search area between them and the direct route down the mountain, avoiding the obvious paths.

Squatting behind a tree, she relieved herself then rinsed her hands in a waterfall trickling down the rock. The early morning routine reminded her to take her pill. Then she looked in the window to check Rossini was still where she’d left him. He glowered back at her and she moved around to the door. Then she grinned. Keeping a firm hand would be easy with him in this mood.

Inside, she hummed an irritating ditty as she heated the beans. She spooned half into the only bowl. Then she got her stun gun. He looked nervous when she approached him.

“Yesterday in reverse,” she ordered. She took the chain off her neck. Then she gave him ten seconds on stun before he could answer, biting her lip as he writhed on the bed.

“Cazzo!” he yelled when he could draw breath. “What was
that
for?”

“That was for trying to get out of those cuffs while I was asleep.”

His jaw tightened. “Can’t blame a man for trying.”

“No, but I can punish him for it.”

She pressed the stun gun against his side and he flinched. Satisfied he knew she meant business, she leaned across his head and unlocked the cuff connecting him to the bed. Then she backed away.

“Face down towards the wall, hands behind you.” The stun gun pointed at him reinforced the message.

“Fuck you.”

She fired the moment he launched up. He fell back on the bed, helpless. Heart racing, fear goading her on, she moved in, jabbed the stun gun against his crotch and hit him on drive stun for two seconds before jumping back. She left the barbs in and waited for him to digest the lesson, praying it had been enough.

He drew his knees up to his chest, groaning. Tears filled his eyes.

“Fuck, fuck,
fuck
!”

She waited for him to regain control. He noticed the barbs.

“Leave them,” she warned.

He glared at her. “You have definitely found your inner dom.”

“Oh, this is nothing to do with that. This is me stopping you from killing me. Now turn over and put your hands behind your back.”

This time he gave her no trouble. He rolled towards the wall onto his left hip then a little further until he could force his left arm behind him. With his nose facing the wall and his arms behind his back, she moved in. She pressed the stun gun against the small of his back as a final reminder then forced his left wrist into the cuff and closed it until the lock clicked.

Once he was safely trussed up again, she helped him roll back on the bed. Then she grabbed the leg chain and swung his feet to the floor. She hauled him up by his shirt into a sitting position. He looked a little dazed. Finally, she retrieved the barbs from his shirt, got out another cartridge, and reset the stun gun. Then she took a deep breath, retrieved his breakfast and shoved a spoonful of beans under his nose.

“Eat.”

He did—he was ravenous, too—but his eyes blazed with a bitter fury. She alternated the beans with slices of bread. He didn’t say a word, and he seemed to resent every mouthful. When he had finished, Tahima took her breakfast outside, unable to take the atmosphere. After she had eaten, she rinsed the saucepan, bowl and cutlery in the waterfall. Rossini was pacing the room when she reentered. She quickly repacked her backpack.

“Out,” she ordered harshly to cover her nerves.

He cast an evil look her way and shuffled out into the sun.

“I need to pee and shit,” he told her once they were outside.

Tahima blanched. The first she could cope with, she wasn’t sure about the other.

He stared at her mockingly, awaiting her move. If his arms were free, they would be folded over his chest with one foot tapping the ground.

“Okay.” She thought quickly. There was no getting around it, and it made sense to get the easy problem out of the way first. Stun gun against his balls, she pointed him towards some bushes, unzipped him, and discovered briefs she could unbutton. She freed his penis so it could do its job.

Nothing.

He groaned. “It’s the gun. I can’t . . .”

She couldn’t help but smile. She moved the stun gun up his hips to his side. His relief was instant. “You need to shake,” he said when he’d finished. She glanced at his face, suspecting a glint of humor in his voice.

Reaching around, Tahima gave him a shake. He hardened in her fingers and she quickly replaced him back in his briefs and zipped his pants up. She flushed, mortified at what was ahead. “I think there’s loo paper in the cabin.”

“Actually, I’ll pass on that. For now.”

She wasn’t about to argue. She put her stun gun away and washed her hands in the waterfall. Then she pointed east. “That way.”

~ Chapter Five ~

Tahima stopped to fish out the pepper spray from her bag an hour into their walk. “We need to talk, sing, make noise,” she explained. “I’ve spotted bears here a couple of times.”

Rossini looked alarmed. “That’s all you have?”

“Don’t worry. They won’t come near if they hear us first. At least not usually.”

“What sort of bears? Black?”

“Yes. Best tip I can give: Don’t run, and never climb a tree. A soft voice works best.”

“I can’t run, and a tree is out of the question.”

“Whistling’s good.” She put two fingers to her mouth and let out a piercing sound.

He winced. “Stun gun hurt less than that.”

She laughed. After a moment, Rossini smiled, too. Jeepers! At times, she could almost forget he was a mobster, whereas this morning she had no problem believing him to be a cold-blooded killer.

“You know these parts well?” he asked.

“I spent my vacations here. Gramps loved the outdoors.”

“What do you for a living?”

“I’m an architect. Mostly house extensions.”