Captive, p.18
Captive, page 18
She walked over to him, and he wrapped her in the towel and then slowly began rubbing her down. The sensation was excruciatingly intimate as the soft roughness of the towel left her breasts and the friction became lower, hotter. “Though I’m not sure this is what he meant. I still believe I should follow his advice. What do you think that—”
He was stripping off his clothes.
He was inside her! His hands were on her buttocks, lifting her, and her thighs went around his hips. Then she was on her back on the creek bank, and he was moving, lifting, pushing inside.
Deep.
Deeper.
Deep. Deep. Deep.
Hot. Filling. Too full…
She couldn’t breathe.
She didn’t want to breathe.
More. More.
Then he rolled her over and she was on top, taking all of him, his lips on her breasts, pulling at her nipples.
She gasped, moaned.
She couldn’t stand the intensity.
She opened her lips to scream but it was too primal even to permit that release.
Then the explosion came with the same fiery power that he’d shown from the instant she’d seen him standing on the bank.
She collapsed on top of him.
She couldn’t move for a moment.
Evidently neither could Caleb. His heart was pounding hard against her. “I think we’ve blown your five minutes.” Then he was on his feet, picking her up and carrying her back into the creek. “I hope you believe it was unique enough to be worthwhile.” He let her slide down his naked body; she experienced the coolness of the water and his every hard sinew and muscle. She began to feel another stirring. He added softly, “It was for me.”
“Cook or not, I’m not letting Rodland orchestrate this particular action.”
“Hallelujah. Then let’s see how it feels underwater.”
“I don’t know if that would be—” Then he was inside her again and the chill and heat blending together was wildly erotic in both sensation and texture. The rhythm of the movement was like nothing she had ever felt.
And she forgot what she had been about to say…
* * *
It was over an hour later that they were both dressed and heading back toward the camp.
“I was wondering if Rodland might decide to drop in,” Jane said. “Sometimes his sense of humor has rather mischievous overtones.”
“I would have drowned him,” Caleb said flatly.
“I wouldn’t have been pleased, either.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Though I was surprised to see you at the creek this morning.”
“But you were ready for me.”
She nodded slowly. “I was ready. I’d been thinking about you. But it was still a surprise.” She turned to face him. “You don’t often do anything impulsively. Was this an impulse?”
“No, it didn’t start out that way. But once started it was pure sexual impulse and a kind of spectacular lust.” He stopped and thought about it. “Yes, ‘spectacular’ is the right word. I couldn’t have stopped if I’d wanted to. I needed you too much.” He smiled crookedly. “And you needed me. I was hoping that you would.”
“Impulse,” she prompted.
“I didn’t sleep much last night. Most of the time I just lay there and watched you. I realized that everything was changing for us, and it was scaring me. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that I’d be able to just coast along when something this world shaking was happening to you.”
“And happening to you,” she said quietly. “If you meant what you said about accepting the fact that this child will always be part of our family.”
“I meant it.” He looked away from her. “And that’s a gigantic change for me. But it’s one I’m looking forward to making because I know it will be a joy to watch you with him.” He suddenly frowned. “Him. But it might not be a boy. Did Campbell tell you about the sex?”
She shook her head. “Too early. Usually between eighteen and twenty weeks. Does it matter to you?”
“I just don’t want to keep calling the baby ‘it.’ That seems…rude.”
She started to laugh. “I don’t think the baby would care. But if you don’t want to offend, you could take turns with male or female pronouns.”
“That’s not efficient…or satisfactory.”
She was still chuckling. “I could consult a crystal ball or maybe a Ouija board.”
He grinned. “Or you could call your brother Michael and see if he has any special insights.”
“We don’t try to treat Michael as special.” She glanced at him. “You should understand that, Caleb.”
“Oh, yes.” His tone was wry. “I was joking. Michael and I understand each other. I’ll go for alternating the pronouns.”
She was no longer smiling. “And I’d ask Campbell to rush the test, but that might be difficult unless we can get him away from Bohdan.”
“Which we will.” He took her hand. “Another problem to take care of. That was why I called Palik this morning. I asked him to send out a team to Kilgoray to track down any signs of Campbell ASAP. Bohdan mentioned two trips to Kilgoray. He must have made contact with some of the villagers who might have info.” He paused. “And I told him we also need to get our hands on one of Bohdan’s men who can give us information about his location. That sniper you tracked down wasn’t able to help much.”
“Except about Felicity,” Jane said bitterly. “And no one considered her of any importance.”
“We did,” Caleb said gently. “And we’ll make them pay for her death. But first, we have to rid ourselves of Bohdan and his troop of mercenaries. Self-preservation is the name of the game right now. I can’t let him near you.”
“Aren’t you back to square one?”
“No, the game has changed with the characters. You can’t be my only focus right now.” His gaze moved over her body. “You don’t have the right to complain about everything I’ve done to protect you any longer. Our agreement has certain holes in it now. It can’t be a totally fifty-fifty arrangement any longer. You’re carrying my child. To protect that child, I have to protect you. I have no choice.”
Her brow wrinkled. “That sounds very…complicated. And it appears to end exactly where you want it to. I don’t like this.”
“But you’re very smart and you know that I’m being reasonable.” He added, “Think about it. What’s most important to you? What would you do? What lengths would you go to in order to protect that child?”
“Damn you.” She stared with frustration into his eyes. “Everything. Anything.”
“Then you realize that we might have a balance problem,” he said softly. “And you realize that no matter how hard I’m going to try, there are going to be times when I have to make certain that child comes first even if you don’t appreciate my methods.”
“I’ll think about it.” She was silent for a moment. “You’re turning me against myself. I’m feeling manipulated.”
“I knew you would,” he said. “Which is why I came down to the creek this morning. I wanted to remind you that what we have together has been worth it to both of us.” He added softly, “And that was how we ended up with a child to protect.”
“Oh, you demonstrated that exceptionally well,” she said. “But it really wasn’t necessary, we’ve gone way past the sexual basics.”
“Nothing basic about it. It’s strictly stratosphere stuff. But we might be heading for something entirely different. That’s why I thought we had to go back and get our bearings.”
“I don’t want to go back, I want to go forward,” she said. “Though you were very inventive today. However, we’ll have to discuss any ‘methods’ you decide to put in place. You should realize that children never stand still. They tend to always go forward.”
His lips quirked. “Like their mother?”
“Exactly.” She tossed him a smile over her shoulder as she made the turn leading to the camp. “You must have heard the saying about mother knowing best. But you might be permitted an opinion if you don’t become too rambunctious.”
“Rambunctious?” he murmured. “I don’t believe anyone has used that word to describe me.”
“You were talking about different paths. I was trying to oblige.” She waved at Rodland as the camp came into view. “But I’ll leave it to you to persuade Rodland to make me another breakfast since it’s your fault that the first one was ruined.”
“I warned him he shouldn’t send me.”
“Because you knew he would anyway. You were going to do what you wanted to do. Rodland always wants everything to go well for you. You’re his hero.”
“No, he just believes in payback. I understand it, I just try to avoid it. I’d resent it if I was him.”
“But then few people are like you. Some of us don’t mind owing someone a debt.”
“Yet you’d do anything on earth to repay it. And I can’t imagine anything worse than having you feeling forced to do that.” He took her elbow and nudged her forward. “Which is quite a change for me. It must be your influence. There was a time that I wouldn’t have given a damn, if it meant I could still keep you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“No? You should.” His fingers tightened on her arm. “Believe it, Jane.”
Chapter
12
After breakfast that morning Rodland didn’t give Jane a chance to do more than help break camp before he told her, “Caleb told me to go saddle Jocko for him. MacDuff wants to see you and make sure you’re okay so we’re going back to the Run. Caleb said for me to drive you in the Range Rover, and he’ll ride Jocko.”
“I could ride Jocko. We’re used to each other.”
“Caleb said he wanted to do it. He needs to stretch out and he said it was a chance for me to tell you the rest of MacClaren’s story on the trip back.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’ve evidently been designated to keep you entertained. Not that I mind. I was a little pissed off that you left me to twiddle my thumbs earlier today. I’d far rather talk about Fiona and MacClaren. I’ve sort of been thinking about them as family.”
She groaned. “Don’t say that.” Then she saw his eyes were twinkling. “Go saddle Jocko. Where’s Caleb? Why didn’t he do it?”
He shrugged. “He’s been on the phone with MI6. I supposed he’s trying to pull something together. And I need the practice.”
Jane finished packing up and was settling in the passenger seat of the Range Rover when Rodland opened the driver’s door. “All finished,” he said. “I turned Jocko over to Caleb, who looks as depressingly dashing as Zorro, or maybe some desert sheikh on his favorite Arab stallion. It isn’t fair, you know. I never looked like that on Maisie. I guess there’s something to say about horses, though.” He waved as Caleb passed them on Jocko. “See what I mean?”
She did, and it was causing her to experience a sudden vivid physical memory of what had happened at the lake this morning. Dressed in jeans, with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to the elbow, Caleb did look lean and tough and vibrantly sensual. “I’m sure he wouldn’t have looked nearly as good on Maisie, either,” she told Rodland soothingly. Then she frowned. “He’s going on ahead?”
“He said that he wanted to check out the woods to make sure they’re safe for you.”
“From snipers? He’s the one who’s vulnerable. He could be picked off with no problem. We have all this metal around us.”
“Well, I don’t think we should worry. He knows what he’s doing. He’ll see them before they see him. He managed to take down that general’s bodyguards as well as the bastard himself before he escaped Bohdan’s army.”
“I don’t care, I do worry. And he promised me that he would—” But he probably thought he had nullified that promise when he’d talked to her earlier today. No way. “I have to talk to him.”
“I suggest that you wait until these woods start thinning out before you start in pursuit. We might get in the way,” Rodland said. “Just in case I’m wrong about Caleb.”
“You’re probably not,” Jane said. “I remember that most of the threat of attack should be over by the time we approach the road. That should be time enough for me to call him.” She added grimly, “Unless he’s dead.”
He gave a low whistle. “There’s always that possibility. You don’t mind if I opt out of any discussion you have with Caleb?”
“Why should I? You’re not worried. He’s not worried.” She leaned back in her seat. “And I’m going to try to follow your example. Until I see him. Didn’t you say that Caleb wanted you to entertain me by telling me the rest of MacClaren’s story? He’s so good with plans that I think you should just go along with it.”
“Are you certain?” he asked warily. “I don’t believe you’re in the mood.”
“You’d be wrong. I want MacClaren’s story to be happy and successful and hopefully brimful of ways to sting the bad guys.” She paused. “As long as it includes Fiona in a way that has meaning and doesn’t leave her to trail after MacClaren like a lost puppy dog.”
“Some of it you’ll have to judge for yourself. You have the letter. I can only tell you what I know about MacClaren.”
“And the last thing I heard was that he’d talked Jamie into letting him paint Fiona’s portrait. But the chance of Jamie letting her have anything to do with him other than that was nil. True?”
He nodded. “She was gentry. He was a penniless artist. So they had to find a way to work around it. Not easy during that period. They decided to play a waiting game. Jamie wanted that portrait, and he didn’t know much about the artistic process. So MacClaren showed some of the razzmatazz he’d learned while he was in America and pretended that the portrait wouldn’t be any good if he didn’t take a long time to create it. That gave him and Fiona months together, and as long as they played it cool, Jamie wouldn’t object. But money became a problem, and since MacClaren was doing Fiona’s portrait for a pittance, he told Jamie he’d contracted to do murals for the railway to make ends meet. That gave them the opportunity to go up to the hills and stall even longer while he painted the murals. Graeme was in Europe on an extended business trip, and Jamie suspected nothing. It was a good time for them. Fiona even managed to go to the rail yards with him once when he officially turned over the murals to the owners of the company. But the good times ran out and they couldn’t stall any longer. Other clients of the railway were trying to hire MacClaren to paint similar works for them.” He shrugged. “And Jamie wanted his portrait. He needed money and Graeme, Fiona’s fiancé, was due to come back from Paris. He planned on showing him the portrait and then making the final wedding arrangements to clinch his deal with him.”
“They were in a corner,” Jane murmured.
“Not yet. But they could see it coming. They were already making plans, and MacClaren had started to look for ways that they could be together. But every way was going to be dangerous for Fiona if anyone knew that MacClaren was part of those plans. She was a woman in a man’s world, and Jamie had total control of her. And he had enough power as the laird’s brother to arrange for an accident to happen to anyone who got in his way if he chose. That put both of them in actual danger.”
“But you can’t tell me that either of them would let themselves tolerate that kind of treatment,” Jane said. “They’d fight back. She’d been fighting all her life, and so had he. It might have been in different ways, even in different hemispheres, but now that they’d come together again, they’d fight together.”
“It seems you’ve decided to write your own story,” Rodland said with amusement. “You don’t mind if I chime in?”
“If you can give them something to work with. I’ve not been happy with all this male-dominance crap.”
“Well, it was more subterfuge than outright battle, but it worked for them. Not that you’ll approve.” He glanced slyly at her. “MacClaren finished the portrait, and it was a great success. He took the agreed fee from Jamie and then booked passage to go back to America. He was gone a week later.”
“No,” Jane said definitively.
“Yes. I tried to tell you that it was a different time and mind-set. He settled in Buffalo, New York. But after a few weeks he got restless and moved to Denver, Colorado. That was the last place where he could be traced. Though there were rumors he might have gone on to Sacramento, California.”
“And you’re saying he just left Fiona in the lurch and went back to wandering the frontier?”
“What else could the poor lad do? Fiona was betrothed the week Jamie and Graeme got together after he returned to Scotland. Everyone said she appeared perfectly contented and was charming to Graeme. The nuptials were arranged to take place six months later. Graeme was completely happy with the arrangement because he became besotted with Fiona. He couldn’t believe it when she disappeared. He was the one who wouldn’t give up looking for her. He was totally humiliated that she’d jilted him, and at one time he even paid a visit to America on the wild chance that MacClaren had something to do with her disappearance.”
“Wild chance? He didn’t find her?”
“Not as far as anyone knew. Graeme had an unfortunate fall from a train crossing over a bridge in the northwest territory of Montana. No one knew how it happened. He never made it back to Scotland.”
“And he didn’t locate MacClaren?”
“Didn’t I mention no one heard from him after Denver? Why would he be in Montana?”
“You tell me.”
He was silent a moment. “I couldn’t find any trace of MacClaren after Denver.” He smiled. “But I did find that D. B. Ward located very happily in Seattle, where he continued to write and illustrate dime novels. He also painted several landscapes that were very well thought of by the critics of the time. He invested his profits in the local railway and did fine economically. But that might have something to do with his wife, who took over the running of the railway and evidently had a terrific head for business.”
“And her name?”
