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South AmericaNight
The Southern Hemisphere was the pits.
The jungle air reeked of rotting vegetation, thick enough to
see. Wet enough to taste. That Rickwas here, steaming like
broccoli, searching for a woman he never wanted to see again,
saidsomething about his character.
He just wasnt sure if it was heroic or just masochistic.
Crouched in the shadows behind a drape of vines, Rick Callahan
held his breath as a guardwearing bandoleers and carrying an AK-47
moved past and headed toward the front of thebuilding. Didnt these
guys sleep? He reminded himself to sit tight, he was being paid to
rescueMegan OToole. Paid a lot. It was the only reason he was in
this hellhole willing to face guerillasarmed better than he was to
get her back to her cushy lifestyle.
Rick ducked out, hurrying to the edge of the slanting building.
Crouching, he spotted her throughthe shacks only window and
feelings he couldnt name shot through his chest like a blade.
Hewasnt going to pick them apart. He had a job to do. Now.
Before they both got waxed.
Weapon out, with his back to the wall, he peered over the sill.
Megan OToole, daughter of abillionaire, was in the center of the
room, blindfolded, gagged a smart move on their part and tied to a
wooden chair. Her head was slumped forward, shoulders limp, and for
a second hethought she was dead.
And inside, he hurt. Sharp, angry.
Then she stirred, lifting her head. He could hear her captors in
the front yard, boozing it up andgetting comfortable. They should;
theyd just made their last demand on Cameron OToole,Megans father.
Rick had negotiated it himself. Part of the service, he thought,
and slid over the
sill, dropping silently to the floor. He scanned the darkened
room, the only light coming from akerosene lamp on the dirt floor.
Slumming for Megan, he thought. She was used to luxury,servants. A
doting father who protected her like a dragon protecting its
young.
Doting enough to dismiss Rick as her bodyguard for falling under
her spell. And getting shot. Itwas a humiliation he was still
trying to live down.
Holstering his weapon, he moved to her, closing his hand over
her gagged mouth and pulling herhead back against his shoulder. She
fought him, and he tightened his grip to near punishing.
"Be quiet or were both dead. Understand?"
She nodded, but the tension didnt ease from her body. Letting
her go, he cut her gag and ropes,
ignoring her raw bleeding wrists and pulling her from the chair
to the floor.
Megan ripped off the blindfold, blinking. "If this isnt for
real, Ill make you sorry," she whispered ina gravelly voice and
Callahans brows shot up. That didnt sound like the Megan he
remembered.
"Im as real as it gets. Can you walk?" he whispered, and she met
his gaze, nodding, lookingmore angry than scared. Hed give up a
lung to know what she was thinking right now.
On her hands and knees, nearly nose to nose, Megan searched
beyond the green and blackclothing, the camouflage face paint that
would give a child nightmares, and stared into dark
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unforgiving eyes. Familiar eyes. And a flood of memories coated
her in slick greedy waves.
Richard.
The last time shed been this close to him hed been kissing her
into mindless desire. For asecond, she could almost feel the heavy
warmth of his hands roaming beneath her clothes again,stroking her
in places that called to only him, hear his soft erotic words while
he was melting herbones with hot wet kisses. Yet with the steamy
memories came the trouble shed caused him.The bullet hed taken to
save her. And while she thought shed actually meant something to
herformer bodyguard, hed discarded her like day-old caviar and
never looked back.
"Daddy must be paying you a lot of money to do this."
"More than he first offered."
The insult stung, bruising her heart more than her ego. Just how
much had it taken for Callahanto come all this way for her? And why
had her father asked the one man forbidden to her?
"You okay?" he whispered close to her ear, his irritation
precise, biting.
"Yes, peachy, but the service here is awful," she snapped. "I
shant recommend them again." Shecould have sworn his lips actually
curved in a smile. No. Not Callahan. Smiles would crack hischiseled
face.
Barely able to see him in the dark, she followed him across the
dirt floor to the window. Heslithered over the edge like a long
black snake, pulling her after him. The sill cut into her hip
andshe bit down on her tongue to keep from groaning. And alerting
her captors. Theyd taken sickpleasure in smacking her around when
the troglodyte they called a boss wasnt around.
Once outside, Rick grabbed her hand, yanking her ruthlessly into
the jungle and running.
After a few yards, her legs screamed in protest. "Callahan! Good
grief, Ive been sitting in thatchair for nearly a week!"
Without missing a beat, Callahan picked her up and like a
caveman, tossed her over his shoulder.He ran. The air punched out
of her lungs so hard she barely noticed his arm wrapped around
herthigh, his hand shoved between her legs. She wasnt going to
complain, not that she could withher thoughts draining out of her
head with her blood. He ran for what felt like a mile before
sheheard gun shots.
"You just had to be a popular hostage?" he muttered accusingly,
running a hundred yards beforeswinging her down, and setting her to
her feet so hard Megans teeth clicked together.
She shoved her hair out of her face. "Now what?" He was barely
winded, damn him.
"We run."
"Werent we just doing that?"
"Not fast enough carrying you." He forced her round and pushed
her ahead. "Go, I dont get paidfor dead."
Good, she thought, that would keep her alive, and she obeyed,
ignoring her burning muscles andpumping her legs like mad. Fear
pushed her, fear of being hauled back again. Of being
terrorizedwithout sleep and food or water. Theyd toyed with
her.
