UNDER BY DURESS (6 page)

“Why not the whole lot?”

“I’m not that senior. I hope to. I enjoy getting a balance between eco-design and affordability.”

“If we get out of this alive, you can design me something.”

Tahima looked at him in surprise.

Rossini smiled at her. “I’m not going to jail, Tahima, and I don’t hold grudges. Especially against gorgeous women prepared to shake my dick after watching me piss.”

“Well then, I really hope you didn’t kill your father.”

“Your wish is my command.”

She shook her head. “I can’t figure you out, Rossini.”

His look was knowing. “I have you figured inside and out, Tahima. And when this is over, I’ll prove it.”

Tahima swallowed. That voice was back. The one that would have her across his lap if he ordered it. A blush warmed her cheeks and he laughed. Stephen had laughed like that. Rossini was playing her.

She shoved him forward, harder than she’d intended. He stopped laughing, but there was an annoying smugness to his limited gait.

He did, however, prove to have an awesome whistle and an equally impressive repertoire. Her bottle-shattering blasts had Rossini rolling his eyes at the sky. They steadily moved downhill without being accosted by any bears. Tahima estimated they had covered a little over four miles by the time they hit the gorge midday.

Rossini stared up at the steep cliff facing them. “Is this what the climbing gear’s for?”

“Yes.”

His jaw worked overtime. “You going to cut me loose?”

“No.”

“You are certifiable. That’s a good twenty foot.”

Tahima swung her backpack to the rocky ground and extracted the shorter lengths of rope from her bag. “Kneel down.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to put a rope harness on you and I’ll feel safer if you were kneeling.”

She watched him struggle over his decision. It took a hand reaching for the stun gun for him to comply. His knees hit the hard ground uncomfortably.

“You are always going after those jewels,” he said as she threaded rope between his thighs.

Tahima could tell he was nervous, but once she’d created a rappel seat he seemed to relax.

“See, I know what I’m doing.” She started on the chest harness before linking the two.

“How many spring locks?”

“Two. I’ll use a guarde knot.”

He nodded.

Tahima checked the longer length of coiled rope and secured it to his harness before pulling on the climbing gloves she kept in her parka. She tied the free end of rope around her waist and settled the backpack on her shoulders. Finally, she hauled him back to his feet.

Immediately, Rossini blocked her from the cliff. “Are you mad?”

“What? You think you’re the only one who can free climb?”

“
I
use a
safety
rope!”

“I learned to climb on this section many times. It has plenty of footholds and rest stops. More like bouldering.” She stepped around him.

“Mannaggia! Would it really hurt you to set up a safety rope?”

Tahima glanced at him in surprise, her hand reaching up for her first hold. He sounded like he cared. Then she tuned him out. She began to climb, controlling her breathing and focusing on nothing else but the climb.

Halfway up, she stopped to rest. It occurred to her then that she was very vulnerable. There was nothing to stop Rossini pulling her off the cliff-face. She looked down to find him anxiously watching her progress. Somehow she couldn’t imagine he would. And even if he managed to get the keychain off her neck, the solid design of the cuffs would prevent him freeing himself. Right now, he needed her.

Alive.

Shaking all distracting thoughts from her mind, she focused on her next foothold. When she clambered over the top, she pulled her backpack off and rested it on the ground. Then she lay back and looked at a cloudless sky for several seconds as she wondered what the hell she was doing; what would be the best way to set up a pulley system; and why she was letting a large stone dig into her hip.

God, she ached all over.

Forcing herself to her feet, she hammered pitons into cracks in a large boulder and added the oval karabiners. Then she undid the rope around her waist, pulled up the slack, and looped rope through the karabiners to create a pulley system that would work one direction only. She quickly realized she’d threaded the rope through the wrong way and started over.

When she was done, she walked to the edge and looked down. “Ready?”

Rossini stood there, cuffed and trussed up in rope with a face that screamed do-I-have-a-choice?

“Yell if you hit trouble,” she called.

“Do you mean trouble, or hard rock?”

She shook her head and returned to her pulley system. Taking a deep breath, she started to pull. Damn, he was heavy. After a couple of meters she stopped to rethink. Keeping the rope taut just in case, she emptied her backpack one-handed then filled it with stones. She tied it to the rope and lowered it over the edge. Rossini was hanging patiently halfway up. He looked to be admiring the view. The counterweight made the difference and she was soon hauling him over the edge.

His face was a little pale.

“You okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Bit of an adrenalin rush.”

She untied his harnesses from the rope that had pulled him up. “Wait there.”

He lay back on his cuffed arms and closed his eyes while she retrieved her backpack, emptied it of stones and repacked. She opened some water and drank a third before offering it to Rossini. She supported his head as he took a mouthful, swished it around, and spat it out his other side.

“More?” she offered.

He nodded and she held the water bottle until he’d had his fill. While he was on the ground, she undid the knots to the harnesses then helped him sit up. She coiled the smaller lengths of rope and placed them in her backpack. Rossini was studying her pulley system. She noticed he had regained his color.

“Do you approve?” she asked, breaking out the chocolate.

“It’s an improvement on last night’s debacle.”

She wrinkled her nose at him and popped a chocolate square into his mouth. He sucked it slowly, pleasure chasing away his ire. Tahima collected the karabiners, and hammered out the pitons.

“What next?” he asked as she coiled the long rope.

“We need to cover ten miles by evening.”

His face dropped. “How long is this trip, exactly? We’re not equipped. Another cabin?”

“Cave. And I don’t see you have much choice. We’ll get no signal until tomorrow.” She noticed the bandage round his arm was bleeding.

He followed her gaze. “Bumped it on the way up. You know, we’ll make better time if you take these leg irons off.”

Tahima pulled out the first aid kit.

“It’s fine. Leave it,” he said.

“Best to clean it. You could get an infection.”

“So look at it later.”

She moved around to kneel at his side. “No. I want to look at it now. It’s not up for debate, Rossini.”

His eyes narrowed. “What was your master’s name?”

Tahima rocked back on her heels, shocked. Blood raced to her face. “Why would you ask that?” she whispered.

“Only that he did a piss-poor job on you. Thought I would look him up . . .”

She stiffened. “What for?”

She struggled to contain her panic, the thought of the pair ganging up on her too awful to contemplate. No. Stephen was out of her life. Rossini was probably going to prison.

And still she wanted to throw up.

“Mannaggia, you’re trembling.” His eyes narrowed. “What the hell did he do to you?”

His face blurred behind a veil of tears.

“I said, what the
hell
—”

“There was someone else,” she whispered.

“Was it an open arrangement?”

Tahima’s cheeks burned with shame. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She wiped the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand. Then she tore off the bandage and poured a liberal dose of peroxide onto his wound out of sheer spite.

He jerked away. “
Merda
!”

She was none too gentle putting on a clean bandage either, roughly maneuvering his arm to wrap the bandage around his restrained arm. Apart from gritting his teeth, Rossini said nothing more, only shifting sideways to give her better access. When she had finished, she helped roll him onto his knees then hauled him up until he could get a purchase on his feet.

“Don’t say another word. You hear me?” she ordered.

“What about the bears?”

“Whistle.”

“Fine.” He turned on his heel and started walking.

“Wait. You’re going the wrong way.”

He didn’t stop.

“Rossini? What are you doing? I need to finish packing.”

But Rossini was already around the boulder and out of sight.

Damn him! Well, he wasn’t going to get far. She quickly dismantled her pulley system, stowed everything away, swung her backpack on, and pulled out her stun gun. Why was he rebelling now? He’d been fully cooperative since taking a pee.

She didn’t
have
to answer his questions.

Then she realized. Her mouth parted. This was his way of punishing her for not answering,
forcing
her to the trouble of making him cooperate. She grinned. Okay, it wasn’t the way she’d planned to go, and the detour would add on a couple of miles, but he was going to regret pushing his boundaries.

She walked slowly after him, enjoying the semblance of solitude. She would love to know what he was thinking. She rounded the corner and stopped dead. Rossini was facing off a black bear several meters distant and getting into serious trouble.

“Don’t look at him, Rossini,” she said softly, pulling the spray from her pocket then raising her hands in the air. “You’re challenging him.” The bear turned its head towards her. She slowed her breathing. “I want you to slowly turn to your right and walk away. I’ll be right behind you. Trust me on this. You’re sending out all the wrong messages.”

“What about you?”

“I’m armed, remember. Keep your voice low.”

He glanced at her. “With pepper spray?” But his voice was calm, and he did move in the direction she suggested.

The bear abruptly turned under the pressure of Tahima’s steady advance and walked away.

“Keep moving. Slowly.”

“Can’t go much faster. You should have taken these leg irons off. I can’t defend myself like this.”

Tahima swallowed a growing anger. Revenge was best served cold. “Keep moving, Rossini. We need to leave his territory.”

“Where the hell are we going now? I thought this was the wrong direction.”

“Then why didn’t you stop when I said?”

His silence spoke volumes. The sound of a distant waterfall filled it. She had caught him up by the time he reached the mountain waterfall supplying an azure-colored pool with glacial water.

Tahima began to regret her impulse to let him repent at leisure. The water was going to be icy cold. The cuffs would weigh him down. This was a bad idea and she would have turned back, except for that bear.

She thought out how best to work this. “I need to take off your boots.”

He looked incredulous. “We’re swimming?”

“If you hadn’t stormed off to annoy me we wouldn’t have to. As it is, there’s a bear between us and the dry way down.”

Rossini bit his lip, his face reflecting a myriad of emotions: anger, frustration, fear, and, finally, humility. “I’m sorry.”

“Sit on the rock and I’ll take off your boots. No kicking.”

He planted his behind on the rock. “You have my word.”

She stepped to his side and tilted his chin towards her, much the way he had after she had fallen running from him. “Rossini, I pulled your ass up a twenty foot drop, saved you from becoming dinner for a bear, I’m tired, and I ache like hell. Now I’ve got to get you to the other side of that waterfall, and I’m really pissed.”

“I know. I said I’m sorry.”

A frisson of power spiraled up her spine as she sensed a hold on him that hadn’t been there before.

His pupil’s dilated. Holy cow. He felt it too.

She tested him. “I’m going to punish you for this,” she said, keeping her voice oh so gentle. The way Stephen had when he wanted to hammer a message home.

His mouth twisted. “I . . .”

“Okay?”

She watched him fight the feeling she was stirring in him and saw the moment of his capitulation. It was a feeling she knew well and the thought of him ceding all control to her was mind-blowing. So this was what Stephen felt—and Rossini—when a sub incurred their dom’s displeasure and chose to accept their punishment.

Rossini swallowed. “Not the crown jewels.”

“Agreed.”

He couldn’t tear his eyes from hers. Tahima sensed his conflict as his situation shifted from prisoner to something she doubted either of them could define. This was new territory and the rules were unclear.

“I get a safe word?”

“Carlos.”

He frowned, but accepted her decision. “You were taking my boots off?”

For the first time, Tahima felt no need to force his cooperation at the point of her stun gun. She could also tell Rossini was aware of her every move. She heard his breath catch in his throat as she slowly unlaced his boots.

When she gripped his ankle, he bucked, like his shoulders had gone into spasm. “Fuck, Tahima.”

She looked up and nodded to his growing bulge. “Don’t lose that. You’re going to need it.”

He shook his head, reluctant admiration in his eyes. “I think we’re both learning something from this experience.”

“You needed it.”

“Maybe. But I think you’ve still got baggage to let go.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t understand.”

She eased his other boot off, wondering if she was about to go too far. “Didn’t you love your father at all?”

His mouth opened. Guards dropped over his eyes but not quick enough to hide a glimpse of pain.

Tahima physically and mentally backed away, the moment of intimacy over. She put the matches, first aid, his wallet, cell phones and stun gun into the zip lock bag then stuffed it, his jacket, her shoes and parka into the backpack. She tied his boots to the loops around her jeans. The water was going to ruin them, but what else could she do? “Keep whistling,” she said. “I’ll be back.”