The Missing Maitland

The idea sent cold reality surging through him like an icy wave, and with it he found the strength to tear his mouth away from hers.

“What in hell is going on here?” He barked the question in a hoarse voice.

Blossom stared at him, her expression a mixture of dreamy bemusement and self-deprecation.

“What’s the matter with you?” she snapped. Then, pushing out of his arms, she jumped back to her side of the seat and began to tug down the straight skirt that had ridden up along her thighs. “Haven’t you ever had a woman kiss you before?”

“Not like that!”

Blossom’s face flamed with embarrassed heat, but she still managed to meet his gaze directly. “I hope that’s a compliment.”

He groaned loudly, then said several curse words she couldn’t have brought herself to say even if she’d been in a dark closet with no one around for three miles.

“It means you’re crazy and so am I!” he yelled. “It means you could have just gotten us killed!”

Jerking his head to the right, he squinted through the back windshield of the truck at the darkness beyond. He could see no lights anywhere, but that was hardly enough to make him happy. Anyone wanting to slip up on them could have turned out their headlights and walked right up to the truck door, stuck a gun to their heads and blown them away without either of them knowing what happened.

Angry at himself more than her, he jerked the gear-shift into low and gunned the vehicle back onto the highway.

Across from him, Blossom decided it was time she put on her seat belt. Escaping was not foremost in her thinking now. In fact, it wasn’t in her thoughts at all. She was too preoccupied with her own rash behavior and with trying to understand what had prompted her to initiate the kiss that had just taken place between them.

Blossom silently groaned as the whole incident replayed in her mind. She had to admit she’d been giving Larkin more than just a kiss. She’d been making love to the man! As for him, she didn’t know what had been going on in his mind. But hers was still generating X-rated images.

Had she totally lost her senses? she wondered helplessly. She had no idea who this man was or what he was up to. She did know that he was arrogant and insolent and he was holding her against her will.

Yet she couldn’t stop the erotic thought that he’d also been holding her against his body as well, and she’d relished every second of the captivity. My word, she wasn’t just losing her mind, she was turning into her mother!

Refusing to let that horrible notion remain in her head, she gave him a sidelong glance full of accusation and, God help her, appreciation.

“I fully intend to make you reimburse me for the cellular phone. You shouldn’t have thrown it out the window!”

He flipped on the turn signal and directed the truck onto a dirt road. Dust boiled in their wake as he once again stomped on the accelerator.

“If I’d wanted to alert the police, I would have done so back in Austin,” he explained with an exaggerated patience that grated on Blossom. “But you’re smart enough to know that.”

Darkness had completely fallen over the landscape, but in the arc of the headlights, she could see that the road they were traveling was carrying them deep into the woods, probably somewhere in the Pedernales park, she figured. She tried not to picture where they might be going or what tomorrow would bring. If she did, she would surely become hysterical, and that was a luxury she couldn’t afford at the moment.

Peering at his profile, illuminated by the muted lights from the dash panel, Blossom asked, “Are you a cop?”

“No.”

“A criminal?”

“No.”

She took a deep breath and raked her disheveled hair back from her face with both hands. “A few moments ago, you implied that someone could or might be following us. Do you honestly think those goons with assault rifles wanted to kill you or me? Or both of us?”

His jaws tightened. “When you can feel the wind off a bullet, that pretty much implies it was meant for you.”

Blossom wasn’t convinced. “Look, I know I’m not the darling of Austin’s reporters. I realize people frown on what I do and how I do it. But that doesn’t mean they want to shoot me down. And as for you—well, to hear you tell it, you’re just a simple gardener. I doubt anyone would risk spending the rest of his life in prison just for the kick of taking out a groundskeeper.”

“So you’ve got it all figured out. Guess you can put your speculations to rest now.”

He was so smooth, so sarcastic, that she wanted to bash him over the head with something. Mainly her fist. But her knuckles were already sore from her earlier assault on him. Besides, she didn’t want to risk ending up in his arms again. The temptation—or she should probably view it as the danger—was simply too great.

“I don’t have anything put to rest,” she retorted. “The last thing I remember before you grabbed me was that Megan Maitland, her friend Clyde Mitchum, and her grandson Chase had just walked out of the clinic. In case you don’t know, Megan is more than just the CEO and co-founder of the Maitland Maternity clinic, she’s incredibly wealthy and a very prominent and notable citizen of Austin. She dotes on her grandson, Chase. Which would place a high ransom on the kid’s head. And let’s not discount Clyde, either. From what I can gather, he and Megan knew each other in the past. He’s come back to Austin to close the distance between them and so far Megan hasn’t exactly pushed him away. In my opinion, those three are much more likely to draw attention from maniacs with guns than you and me.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

Flustered and weary, she stared at him. “Can you be certain those three weren’t the target?”

No, he thought with a silent curse. He couldn’t be sure of anything right now. But as soon as he got Blossom and himself out of imminent danger, he was going to find out.

“I’m not certain of anything, Ms. Woodward.”

Once again she crossed her legs and folded her arms against her breasts. The toe of her high heel swished up and down with agitation. “So we’re back to Ms. Woodward now instead of Blossom. What’s the matter? Afraid if you get too personal I’ll try to kiss you again?”

He’d never encountered such impertinence or bravado from a woman. Especially one as young as Blossom Woodward. If the situation hadn’t been so risky, he’d have the pleasure of taking her down a notch or two. But for now, he had to make sure she didn’t get to him—in any way.

“You can try, but that’s as far as you’ll get.”

Stung by his retort, Blossom clamped her mouth shut and stared out the passenger window.

She’d die before she touched the man again, she silently swore. He could choke her with his own hands or toss her back to those idiot gunmen. Either way, he would never be the recipient of her kisses again!

Nearly twenty minutes later, the pickup came to a halt in a small clearing. Blossom whipped off her seat belt and peered through the windshield. They were parked on a rough incline with the nose of the truck a great deal higher than the rear. In front of them was some sort of structure shrouded by huge shade trees.

“What is this place?” she asked. The words were the first she’d spoken since her silent vow to hate the man forever.

“A cabin that belongs to a friend of mine. Where we can stay. Hopefully, where we won’t be used for target practice.”

He opened the door and slid to the ground. When he came around and opened the passenger door, Blossom remained rooted to the seat.

“What’s the matter?” he drawled. “Your legs won’t work?”

Blossom wasn’t sure if anything about her worked anymore. Especially the common sense she’d always prided herself in having. But the last impression she wanted this man to have of her was that she was a weak, helpless female.

“My legs are fine. But I’m not at all certain I want to go into that—house—with you,” she told him frankly.

He shrugged, then lifted the baseball cap from his head and ran a hand over his thick hair. “Suit yourself. As for me, I’d rather eat and lie down on a regular bed than stay out here in the dark.”

Not waiting for her reply, he turned and left her on the truck seat. Blossom watched his dark figure walk onto the shallow porch of the cabin, then disappear through a door. Moments later the dim glow of a light appeared in a single window on the front of the structure.

Apparently the man actually intended to spend the night here, she concluded. And since they were so far back in the boondocks that a bloodhound couldn’t find them, he wasn’t the least bit concerned about her taking flight.

Damn the man, if he hadn’t thrown her cell phone away, she could have used it now. But that was mostly her own fault. She should have sat tight and waited for a better opportunity to attempt to dial 911. Instead, she’d panicked and tried to carry out the plan right in front of him. Stupid, Blossom. Real stupid!

With a weary sigh, she flopped over sideways on the seat and closed her eyes. She could sleep here in the truck seat if she had to, she thought. In a couple of hours, the night air would begin to cool. With the windows rolled down she wouldn’t melt in her own sweat. But right behind that encouraging thought came the realization that the mosquitoes would make a feast of her. Just the thought had her rubbing her legs and arms in anticipation of the itchy pain.