Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) (14 page)

Damn it, he’d scared her, and she resented being
frightened in her own home. Plus, there was the little factor of his charging
into her like a wild buffalo.

Said buffalo swore harshly, “Fucking…sonofabitch
!”
Grabbing her by the shoulders, he hurled her to one side.

That was okay with her. She’d defended her home. Defended
her person, and made a damn good showing of it, too, if his words were anything
to judge by. Yeah, she’d made her point, definitely no pun intended, she
thought hysterically.

Oh, God. He moved.
Moved.
And from the next words he spat in a low growl, he fully intended to wring
her neck. Flayme bolted into action. Scrambling to her feet, she slipped on
something warm and slick on the floor.
Yuck!
He must be bleeding like a castrated bull. God, what did she care? The man had
attacked her. Escape! That should be the only thought in her head.

She tried to run, but skidded across the floor and nearly
fell. Oh, brother. Tonight was just not her night for gracefulness. Every time
she turned around she was slipping and sliding—falling on her face or flapping
her arms about like an idiot goose with a broken wing.

But hey, who had time to plan for these things?

She sucked in a sharp breath and beat a hasty retreat. One
thing she’d learned tonight was when to flee. She’d fought the intruder, given
it her best shot. Now it was time to withdraw, and she didn’t think she had
anything to be ashamed about by giving ground. Oh, yes, she might not have won
the war, but she’d won the first battle—kind of—time now to take flight, and
raise hell at the same time.

Flayme hit the back door screaming as loud a
s
she could. She plunged into the cold night for the second time in less than an
hour

only
this time she was barefoot. Maybe, just maybe, she’d inflicted enough damage to
the would-be burglar that he wouldn’t be able to follow her.

Yeah. She could dream, couldn’t she?

Damn, why hadn’t she thought to stab him in the leg?

Why hadn’t she grabbed her shoes? Even with a broken heel, they were
better than nothing. She wasn’t taking any chances though. This was her one
opportunity and she didn’t plan to blow it.

Flayme sprinted across the back yard, praying the burglar
was out for the count.

 
 
 

Chapter Eleven

 
 

We cannot learn without pain.

~Aristotle

North Western Australia

The Kimberly

February 10, Tuesday

 

Taylor
Spencer drew a sharp breath and slowly released it. He couldn’t think of a
worse scenario than having a plane crash in an Australian rainforest, unless he
and Dianna Remington had crashed instead in one of the barren deserts of the
Kimberly.

Yeah,
that might have been much worse. No water. No food. Temperatures climbing in
the daytime until the mercury boiled, then plunging, freezing cold at night.
Red dirt. Red, rocky mountains. Blazing sun. Dry earth. Nothing was ever so bad
it couldn’t get worse.

Point
in hand.

He’d
only thought the plane crash was a living hell. Dianna going down with that
mudslide was his worst nightmare to date. He didn’t think he’d ever had such a
horrible three days and nights. Not even the terrible car wreck he and his
sister Kaycee had been involved in over a year ago came close to comparing to
this fiasco.

Then,
even though it had seemed to take an ambulance an eternity to reach them, he’d
known somewhere in the back of his mind, help was on its way. The single most
memory
that stood out in his mind was praying and begging for forgiveness for his
sins. He’d thought

no,
believed
he was going to die. He’d
wanted to die with his slate wiped clean of regrets.

But
he hadn’t died.

Not
then. Not now. And he still felt like he needed a clean slate.

He’d
survived the car crash, only to spend the next year in a wheelchair—despondent,
without the hope of ever walking again, falling in love or having a family.

Then
he’d met Dianna. And with her, came a truckload of emotions and needs he’d
thought he’d never feel again. When he’d got the feeling back in his legs and
started walking again, he’d felt he might have a chance with Dianna after all.

By
some miracle, when the plane crashed, neither of them had sustained serious
enough injuries to put their lives at immediate risk, or ruin his legs again.

Yeah,
help was more than likely on its way here, too, but the difference from then
and now

help
probably wouldn’t reach them
in time. Ever.

For
months and months after the wreck, he’d lived in a friggin’ wheelchair, but
none of that misery compared to trying to get Dianna up this fucking, wet,
slippery mudslide with the fresh injuries she’d sustained from the fall.

Fury
competed with the helpless feeling chewing at his gut. “Hell! Damn! Shit!”

He
stopped cussing long enough to suck in a lungful of the hot, humid air and
slowly released it. God, the air felt thick enough to suffocate a man right where
he stood. Taylor eyed Dianna’s pale, pinched face. The smile on her lips
wobbled, but still, he saw her lips twitch at his profanity.

Insane
that both of them managed to smile, he thought, and gave her a loopy grin. He
was in love with the crazy woman, ass over heels, and hip deep in love. Damn
it, she was apt to die on him, and he hadn’t told her how crazy he was about
her.

Indeed,
the truth was the opposite. He’d made her life miserable, belittled her,
humiliated her in every way possible and still, she smiled. She’d surrendered
her body, her heart to him, and it was the sweetest moment of his life.

Dianna
should hate him.

Taylor
took another step, supporting her as best he could, but the muscles in his legs
still felt like jelly. Trying to support her weight, his weight, and climb such
a steep mountain of mud and rock was a daunting task. The burning in his lungs
felt as if he’d swallowed acid. They chugged like twin bellows.
Whoosh-whoosh
. Breathe in. Breathe
out

easier
said than done when one was practically crawling up a mount
ainside.

Worse,
Dianna’s tortured cries ripped at his gut like a dull-toothed chainsaw. She
tried hard to be brave, but silent tears slid down her pale face.
God.
He knew she was in a bad way, and
the blame for her injuries lay squarely on his shoulders. That little fact
haunted him.

If
he hadn’t been arguing with her, crowding her, she wouldn’t have been standing
so close to the edge when the bank crumbled. She wouldn’t have gone over the
side, and been buried in knee-deep mud.

The
little cries of agony she made with each movement drove him nuts. Damn it, he
couldn’t stand knowing he caused her this much suffering every time he jostled
her with another wobbly step. There wasn’t one thing he could do to prevent her
pain. There was no choice, either. He had to get her up this miserable slope,
if he had to drag her every inch of the way.

Grumbling
beneath his breath, he spat epitaphs that’d make the devil wince. Right this
moment, the cave they’d shared the night before seemed a million miles out of
reach. A night he’d spent making love to the woman he adored, a wealthy woman
with three brothers who detested him and would love nothing better than to rip
his guts out through his nostrils. A woman who’d voiced concerns he might make
her pregnant.

Dianna
didn’t want a baby with him. That was fine with him. He didn’t want a baby with
her either. Taylor tried hard to ignore the tender ache that burned his heart.

What
the hell had he expected?

He
didn’t come anywhere near
her
class.
Her wealth.

The
thing was he couldn’t make her pregnant if he wanted to. She had no worries on
that count. The accident that paralyzed his legs left him sterile as well.
Yeah. He might deny it to Dianna, even to himself, but he wished to hell he
could
make her pregnant, but there’d be
no babies with her or any female. Ever.

Three days ago they’d been damn lucky to survive the plane
crash that left them stranded in the back of beyond in this muggy rainforest.
As if that wasn’t miserable enough, it was also the wet. Heavy rain fell daily.
The risk of floods brought its own brand of dangers from snakes to crocs.

They hadn’t seen one hint of a rescue plane. And even if
one flew over, he wasn’t sure they’d hear it. The birds in the rainforest were
incredibly loud, especially when disturbed. He and Dianna were trespassers. It
was safe to say the birds were unhappy quite often since their raucous alarms
were deafening most of the time.

When Dianna had stood on the edge of the steep drop-off,
he’d said things to her he shouldn’t have, words he couldn’t take back now, and
she’d never forgive him for. But when the ground crumbled beneath her feet, his
heart had tripped like a runaway horse bolting in terror.

He’d tried to warn her to get back, that the soil was
weakened from all the rain, but he’d voiced the alarm too late. The edge
disintegrated, and Dianna had dropped through the air amidst a mountain of
dirt, rocks, leaves, and tree limbs.

Breathless, Taylor doggedly continued climbing even though
his legs screamed in protest. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over the moment you
went over the edge of that cliff. I died a thousand deaths. Do you have any
idea how that felt?”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said with a feeble moan.

“The hell it wasn’t. I was picking on you.”

“You’ve always picked on me.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, his voice shaky. “I never meant
for you to be hurt this way. Not this way. I swear.”

“I know that, Taylor. Your method of hurting me lies in
other forms, not physical. Stop. Please stop,” she cried.

Taylor halted and eyed her. Her body trembled. Sweat
poured down her face. He thought if she grew any paler, she’d simply fade away.

“I can’t take anymore.” Tears welled into her lovely eyes
and spilled down her cheeks. “It hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

Tears mixed with the sludge and blood on her face. Bruises
of all shapes and sizes dotted her arms, face, and legs reminding him of purple
inkblots. He suspected there were worse injuries he hadn’t seen yet.

Standing there on the slope with her in his arms, he felt overwhelmed
with terror. Dianna was no quitter. Stubborn to a fault, she’d given him
what-for
since the first day he met her.
If she asked him to stop, then he knew damn well she’d gone as far as possible.
And he couldn’t let her stop now. “Okay, baby, a minute, no longer. We need to
get you back to the cave to the waterfall and wash the mud off so I can check
your injuries. That lousy break…we don’t want to risk it becoming infected.
We’ll wash it, then I’ll set your leg.”

“You
know how?” she asked, doubt ringing in her voice.

“Well,
I’ve set a few horses’ legs when we couldn’t get a vet in time.”

“I’m
not a horse.”

“Set
a few mares’ legs, too,” he teased, wiggling his brows.

“How
‘bout human females?”

“Nope.
You’re the first.”

“Lucky me.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” he said. “I’ll do the best I
can, but…
fuck!”
Unable to hide his
worry from her, Taylor held her close. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry. Forgive
me, baby. Please?” Tears stung his eyes. He buried his face against her throat.
“I swear to God I never meant for this to happen to you,” he cried hoarsely.

A million things could go wrong. He knew that. Besides not
being able to set the bone correctly, there was the chance of infection or
gangrene if rescuers didn’t arrive in time. They needed saving in the worst
way, but there was no help, and little hope. What they had was each other. End
of the line, no one to pass the buck to, and he was piss-poor assistance.

“Taylor, stop it.” Gently, Dianna brushed the tears off
his face. “It isn’t your fault. It happened. I was careless. Accidents happen.
We’re in a dangerous situation where anything can and will go wrong. It could
have just as easily been you who went over the side of the cliff.”

“But—”

“I know what can happen,” she said on a short breath. “No
antibiotics. A dirty wound. Flies. Heat. Humidity. Infection. You don’t have to
try to conceal it all from me.

 
I know all the
reasons you’re worried. We’re not in the best setting for something to heal. I
could lose my leg. I could die. We could both die.”

“I won’t let anything else happen to you. I swear.”

Her brows furrowed. “You can’t beat death—”

“It isn’t going to happen, Dianna. I won’t let it. I
promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” A faint smile
settled on her lips. “We aren’t going to be rescued. We’re in the wrong part of
Australia. I was so stupid. I should have known something was wrong with the
instruments.”

“No, baby, how could you know? What could you have done if
you’d known? You’d still have been flying blind.”

“No. I could have used the hor
izon for


“Don’t,” Taylor snapped. “Don’t try to second guess what
you could have done. You don’t know. You might have overshot. Then we’d have
crashed into the ocean. A thousand different scenarios are possible, none good.
The fact is if we had to crash, we probably went down in the best part of
Australia, at least in this part of the country. There are far worse areas.”

“Don’t you see?” she said, a hopeless cry in her voice.
“We’re too far north. We’ll never be rescued. We’ll die here.” Dianna moaned, burying
her face against his shirt. “Why couldn’t the fall have just killed me? It
would have been over quickly. I can handle instant death. I can’t take this,
Taylor. I can’t. I hurt everywhere. You don’t know what it feels like. The
agony—

“I don’t, huh?”

Dianna scrubbed away the tears with a dirty hand, smearing
mud and blood down her cheeks even worse than they are already were. She
sniffed pitifully. “Oh, God, I forgot how badly you were hurt in the car crash.
But I’m not you, Taylor. I’m not strong. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. You
are
strong. I don’t know any woman who’s stronger, except maybe my sister. You two
are so much alike, both fighters. So fight, damn it! We’ll do this together.”

“I don’t wanna fight. It hurts.
I
hurt.”

Taylor started up the steep incline. “You’re going to live.
I won’t let you give up and die on me. For the sake of our baby, you’re going
to fight with everything you’ve got inside you until there’s nothing left. I’d
never fuck a weak-livered female and knock her up, just so she can give me a
son puny as a kitten. I chose you for the mother of my kid because you’re a
survivor. So you’ll damn well honor me and live!”

Dianna blinked. “Baby? What baby?”

“The one I exhausted myself putting in you.”

She gaped at him slack jawed. Her mouth worked several
seconds before she finally managed to speak.
“Honor
you? It’s no honor that you chose me to be your flippin’
incubator.”

“Incubator? Yeah, that’s a perfect term for you. ‘Bout all
you’re good for, too. All this freakin’ whinin’ ‘bout how you can’t make it.
You’re weak, Dianna, a wailer. If I’d realized sooner, do you think I’d want
you for the mother of my children?”

“Children? You want more than one?” She sounded as if the
thought of having his kids was fabulous.

Hell, it was fabulous. Impossible. But fabulous. Taylor took
another step, careful not to jiggle her. “You did say you missed several of
your pills. Didn’t you?” He couldn’t look at her. He knew if he did

“Yes…bu–but…you told me not to worry about it, that you’re
sterile.”

“I lied.”

“No. You’re lying now.”

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