Promises (8 page)

Arranging the blanket from her shoulders across them, she made herself comfortable, since it appeared she was going to be there a while.
 
She couldn’t ignore the sense of pleasure washing over her as she lay next to him, feeling the warmth of his skin, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
 
Nor could she deny how genuinely safe she felt for the first time in a very long while.
 

Something pulled Travis from a very pleasant dream.
 
The kind he really shouldn’t be having.
 
The kind that was sure to get him into some very hot water.
 
Hot being the operative word.

A loud crack of thunder boomed overhead and fingernails scraped against his skin.
   

Maybe they weren’t all dreams.
 
Slowly casting his gaze down, he spied the top of Bobbi’s bleached blonde head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm, her tiny hand under his, her fingers curling into the hairs on his chest.
 
He had no idea how she got there or why, but he refused to waste another second wondering about it and simply enjoyed how good she felt.
 

She stirred, pressing her firm round breasts snugly against his side.
 
A moan escaped his constricted throat.
 
She was killing him, and she didn’t even know it.
 

Taking a steadying breath, he swallowed hard.
 
He would conquer this attraction, this powerful need steadily growing inside him.
 
A need he’d never experienced with any other woman, but then Barbara McBride wasn’t just any other woman.
 
She was a living, breathing part of Jason McBride.
 
If he could just keep telling himself that, maybe he could beat this thing.
 

Yeah, just think about Jase.
 
About how you let your best friend down
.
 

Her eyelashes fluttered against his skin, breathing new life into the battle raging inside him.
 
He knew it wouldn’t be an easy fight.
 

Although he suspected she was awake, she didn’t move.
 
Was she afraid she’d wake him or did she relish the feel of their bodies wrapped around one another as much as he did?
 

As much as it pained him, he had to put some distance between them before he did something he would regret.
 
Teasing her seemed to work pretty well, considering she’d avoided him the entire afternoon.
 
Perhaps if he kept her spitting mad, he’d be able to focus on his job and keep them both safe.
 
Something he had failed to do for her brother.
 

Shaking off the guilt, he concentrated on his current problem.
 
“I think I could get used to your unique bedside manner.”

Her head popped up, and she scrambled off the bed, taking the blanket with her, but not before he got a good look at her in the dim light coming from the living room.
 
The jersey tank top clinging to her body stopped just above her bellybutton.
 

I didn’t see that.
 
I won’t remember that.
 
No, no, no
—
ah hell
.
 

She clasped the blanket around her like a shield.
 
“I was afraid
—
I mean, you were tossing and turning and I thought you’d pull your stitches,” she said sternly.
 

Definitely skittish now, and by the sound of her voice a little irritated at being caught in bed with him, but he really needed her ticked-off and stomping mad.

He smiled smugly.
 
“And here I thought it was my irresistible charm.”

The blanket slipped from her shoulders as she placed her fists on her hips.
 
A pose she seemed to favor in his presence.
 
“You are the most arrogant, self-centered, conceited jerk, I’ve ever met.”

He clamped his eyes closed.
 
The way her chest heaved as she railed at him, the way her breasts quivered beneath the thin cotton, and the lacy edge of her panties riding along the smooth curve of her hip, were images permanently imprinted on his brain.
 

He groaned deeply.
 
Things couldn’t get any worse.
 

She placed her hand against his forehead.

Wrong, they were worse.
 
If she didn’t stop touching him, he’d go insane.
 
Or grab her and not let go until he made love to her for at least twenty-four hours straight.
 

Growling, he flung her hand away.
 
“I’m fine.”
 
Was it possible to die from wanting a woman so badly?

“I was just checking.”
 
With a huff, she stomped out of the room.
 

Didn’t the woman ever walk?
 

No, don’t think it.
 
You’ll be imagining her walk and the sway of her hips
—
too late
.

With a forlorn moan, he forced his thoughts to something, anything, but her.
 
As he studied the golden shadows dancing across the bedroom ceiling, slowly, very slowly, the burning in the pit of his stomach and the painful ache in his groin subsided.
 

A dark shadow cut through the light, disrupting his concentration.
 
The shadow paced frantically back and forth.
 

Good.
 
Mission accomplished.
 
She was thoroughly ticked and would keep away from him now.
   

The sound of branches scraping against the window pulled his attention from the golden glow.
 
Did she say something about not liking storms?
 
Didn’t Jase once say something about their parents’ death being caused by a storm?
 

Her stuttered words came back to him.
 
“I was afraid.”

Wonderful.
 
Just perfect.
 
She was afraid of storms and had sought him out for comfort.
 
He didn’t doubt he’d been tossing and turning.
 
Being shot brought his past to life in his dreams.

He shook his head ridding his mind of the raven-haired woman who’d betrayed him.
 
Sylvia was dead and buried.
 
Just like his past.
 
Only Bobbi mattered now.
 
She’d comforted him in his sleep then stayed once his nightmares passed, nestled neatly in the crook of his arm, safe and warm.
 
She needed him and he’d let her down.

But damn it, the woman was driving him crazy!

The wind howled around the cabin and another crack of thunder shook the panes of glass in the window.
 
The shadow on the ceiling jumped and paced more rapidly.

Biting back a litany of curses, he slid his legs out from beneath the covers.
 
“And they say chivalry is dead,” he muttered as he moved to a sitting position.
 
Grabbing the bedspread, he wrapped it around himself.
 

Was it cold or did he have a fever?
 
Either way, he wasn’t wearing anything, and strolling into the living room stark naked didn’t appeal to him at that moment.
 
Well, maybe a little.
 
He’d love to see her face.
 

With a grimace, he carefully stood using the nightstand for support and put a little weight on his leg.
 
Not too bad.
 
Not good, but not too bad.
 
Gingerly taking his first step, he noticed the lack of dizziness.
 
Probably due to the fact he’d sucked down enough water to float a boat and eaten some solid food.
 
Something else he needed to thank Bobbi for.
 

Dinner had been great.
 
His passion for cooking and the culinary classes he’d taken over the years had sharpened his palate, making him somewhat of a critic and difficult to please, but Bobbi surprised him.
 
Her roast chicken breast in a light lemon sauce had been fantastic.
 

He thought about asking for the recipe then decided to wait for a better time.
 
She’d probably laugh her cute little butt off if he did, anyway.
 
Most people found it more than funny that he enjoyed cooking, so he generally kept that information to himself.
 

Needing to repair what he’d unwittingly broken, the first sign of her trust, he carefully made his way to the door.
 
Right on cue Monstro growled.
 
Bobbi’s head snapped around so fast, her contacts would’ve popped out if she’d been wearing them, which he doubted since she’d been sleeping.
 
Which meant he might get another glimpse of those fantastic eyes.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

He grinned teasingly.
 
“With you wearing out the floorboards and the storm outside, how’s a guy supposed to sleep?”

“I wasn’t making that much noise, and you were sleeping fine before.”
 
Her brusque tone didn’t hide the faint tremor in her voice.

“I thought you said I was tossing and turning.”

She let out an exasperated grunt.
 
“At first, but you were fine a little while ago.”

“I’ll say.”
 
A husky tone crept unbidden into his voice.
 
Maybe this teasing thing wasn’t such a good idea after all, but it was his only plan at the moment.
 
He’d have to see it through.
 

Her fists clenched the blanket tighter.
 
An odd electrical current stirred the air and not from the storm.
 
She was afraid of more than a little thunder.
 
And so was he.

Distance, distance
.

“So why aren’t you upstairs tucked away in your safe little bed?” he asked.

“The power is out and it’s too cold upstairs.
 
I’ve got a generator, but it’ll have to wait until morning.
 
Now go lie down before you fall down.”
 
She crossed the room and stopped in front of him, making no move to touch him, thank God.

The firelight dancing on her exposed shoulder nearly brought him to his knees.
 
He wanted to grab her and devour her luscious mouth and wrap himself in her warmth, but she was off limits for more reasons than he could count.
 

Brotherly thoughts, Reid, brotherly
.
 
If Jase were alive, he’d do more than break his nose for just thinking about touching Bobbi.

Determined to keep her on the defensive and make up for his earlier stupidity, he resumed his flirting.
 
He could only hope she wouldn’t turn the tables on him and flirt back.
 
No way in hell, would he survive that.
 

“I’ll go to bed when you do, darlin’,” he said suggestively.
  

She rolled eyes, and he caught a glimpse of their unusual coloring.
 

“I’m sleeping on the couch.
 
Alone.
 
Now come on.”
 
She turned him around and guided him to the bed.
 

He shouldn’t enjoy the warmth of her hands against him, but what was a guy to do?
  

A loud crash ripped through the night, spewing glass across the room, driving every lascivious thought he had from his mind.
 

Acting on years of training, Travis flung his arms around her, threw her to the floor, and covered her with his body.
 
Holding his breath, he waited.

Several seconds passed, but only the sound of the storm and rain patting against the hardwood floor echoed in the darkness.
 
Lifting his head, he looked at her, praying with everything he had in him that she wasn’t hurt.

“Are you all right?”
 
He spoke barely above a whisper, unsure of whether or not there were intruders in or around the cabin.

“Yes.”
 
Her voice was barely a squeak.

He could feel the rapid beat of her heart and every quaking breath.
 
Carefully peering over the edge of the bed, he realized flying bullets hadn’t broken the window.
 
A tree branch lay across the sheets along with broken glass, glittering with a shaft of lightening.
 

“A branch came in through the window,” he said.

“I
—
I thought.
 
I mean
—
”
 

He knew what she thought.
 
The same thing he did.
 
That Steele’s men had found them.
 

She shivered, driving him steadily from his duty, but her uneven breath and racing heart were danger signals he was forced to heed.
 
“You thought I was going to ravish you?”

A spark of anger lit her eyes instead of the look of a woman fearing for her life.
 
Just the response he hoped for.
 

“That’s not what I was going to say, but it doesn’t matter.
 
You can get off me now.”

“Well now, that is a problem.”
 

Her brow wrinkled.
 

“Something slimy is running down my back, and I feel the distinct heat of doggy breath on my neck.”

The woman had the nerve to laugh.
 
A sound he discovered he liked a great deal as it flowed through his blood like a drug.
 
He needed to move before he gave in to the sweet feel of her beneath him.
 

Pasting on a serious frown, he said, “I don’t think this is a laughing matter.”
 

She cleared her throat.
 
“Sorry.
 
You’re right,” she said with a tiny giggle.
 
Turning her head to the side, she told Rocky everything was fine and to go lie down.
 

The curve of her ear was an enticing thing.
 
He gritted his teeth against the temptation to nip at her earlobe.
 

She turned back to face him and the need past.
 
“It’s safe to get up now.”

He carefully rolled to his side to let her up.
 
Something he really didn’t want to do, but considering he had an audience, one with very big teeth, he didn’t have much choice.
 

Sitting up, she looked back at where he lay on the floor.
 
“You know, I think he likes you.”

“Yeah, the way I like sushi.”

She giggled.
 
“No, I really think he does.
 
Or he’s aware of you being hurt.
 
He didn’t try to protect me from you when we fell on the bed this afternoon, and he could have easily done some damage to you a minute ago.”

“Uh-huh.
 
Well, don’t start making out wedding invitations.”

Laughing, she got to her feet.
 
Travis got up from the floor much more slowly than she did, and not just because of his leg.
 
He hurt in a few other prime places as well.
 

“Listen, I hate to ask this.”
 
And he really did hate to, because her hands on his body wasn’t something he believed he could handle in his current state.
 
“Could you wipe this stuff off my back?”
 
He scowled as he turned away, clutching the bedspread firmly around his waist.

Still chuckling, she mumbled a yes, and used the cloth from the nightstand to clean Rocky’s attentions from his back.
 
Thankfully, she did it quickly.

He turned and looked at the broken glass littering the sheets.
 
“Looks like we both get to sleep on the couch.”

Setting the cloth aside, she shook her head with a grin.
 
“Come on.
 
But you really shouldn’t be moving around so much.”

“I’m not as weak as you think.”
 
He caught himself against the doorjamb before stumbling.
   

“Mm-hmm.
 
And that wall’s going to collapse if you don’t keep holding it up.”
 
She reached out, peeled his fingers from the molding, and propped his arm across her shoulder.
 

“This has a familiar ring to it,” he said.

She helped him across the room.
 
“Probably because we’ve done this before.”

He gently lowered himself to the couch and watched as she went about making a pallet on the floor.
 
“I think I should sleep on the floor.”

“Thanks for the offer, but you need the couch more than I do.”

He chuckled to himself a few times as she fought to keep the blanket wrapped around her, obviously aware of his eyes on her scantily clad figure.
 

“I didn’t say I’d be alone down there,” he said.

“Oh, go to sleep,” she huffed.

With a wide grin, he laid his head down and tried not to think of the woman lying on the floor next to him, a nearly impossible feat.
   

“Um, Tr
—
” She paused to clear her throat.
 
“Mark?”

Hmm, interesting
.
 
Was it a slip of the tongue?
 
Did she really know him or was it a simple stutter brought on by nerves?
 
If she did recognize him, why would she pretend not to?
 
It didn’t make any sense.
 
Why not trust him?
 
Why not tell him what she knows?
 
What was she afraid of?

He could only hope she’d learn to trust him, and soon.
 
They couldn’t stay in her little cabin in the woods for too long.
 
Ballard would find them sooner or later, and it was the sooner that bothered him most.
 
He wouldn’t be much help in his current condition.
 
That little nosedive to the floor took a lot more out of him than Bobbi realized.
 
The moisture he felt beneath the bandage could be blood.
 
Or it could be sweat that had broken out all over his body when he thought they’d been found.
 

“Are you asleep?”
 

Her whisper brought back the feel of her nestled beneath him.
 
“No.”
 
And not anytime soon, he’d wager.

“I wanted to thank you.
 
I mean for trying to protect me in there.”

“My pleasure.”
 
If she could see the wicked grin on his face, she’d probably slap him.
 
“Sure you don’t want any company down there?”

“Oh, would you shut-up and go to sleep?”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Travis smiled broadly at the sound of her growl.
 

A soft whimper told Bobbi she needed to get up and let Rocky out, but she felt so comfortable, so warm nestled against Travis.
 

Travis?
 
Her eyes popped open and stared blankly at the cold fireplace.
 
His large muscular arm lay draped over her waist, holding her firmly into the bend of his body.
 
Turning slightly, she could see his head resting above hers on the pillow, his strong square jaw covered with several days’ growth.

When did he sneak down onto the floor with her?
 
His presence certainly explained the illicit dreams she had during the night.
 
Her body had betrayed her, darn it, readily curling into him, welcoming his warmth.
 
And he was most definitely warm and
—
firm
.

He’d placed the bedspread he had wrapped around his waist across both of them, which meant he was totally naked.
 
Her panties were the only thing between her and
him
.
 

She gulped, forcing the lump of awareness down her throat.
 
Her conscious must be in league with her traitorous body, because she certainly wasn’t moving at any great speed to get away from his gloriously naked body.
 

His hand twitched, and he pulled her in tighter against him.
 
Moaning softly in defeat, she settled in to enjoy a few more minutes of heaven.
 
Or agony, depending on one’s point of view.
 

She wondered what it would be like to wake wrapped in his arms every morning.
 
Preferably in a bed and without people chasing her and shooting at him.
 
A simple, normal life where they could be together and enjoy one another.
 

Risking waking him up, she brushed her fingertips across the backs of his knuckles where his hand lay against her tummy.
 
Such big, strong hands.
 
Capable of all sorts of things, she thought wickedly.
 

He moved and she held her breath.
 
Was he awake?
 
The last time she’d played possum it brought her nothing but complete and utter embarrassment.
 
If he caught her stealing these few tantalizing moments, she’d die of mortification.
 

She remained perfectly still, waiting for some teasing taunt, but heard only his even breathing.
 
Thank goodness, he was still asleep.
 
Did she dare risk a few more minutes?
 

Another whimper brought her back to her senses.
 
Rocky still needed to go out, and she needed to get far away from the dark prince.
 
The dark, dangerous, off limits, prince.
 

Carefully, she lifted his heavy arm from her waist and rolled away.
 
His face puckered for a moment before smoothing back to rest.
 
Unconscious, asleep, awake, was there never a moment when he didn’t look absolutely wonderful?
 
She grinned impishly.
 
Or feel wonderful?

Shaking her head, she tiptoed away and let Rocky out the front door then hurried up the stairs.
 
After a quick and rather chilly shower, she threw on some clothes and turned to the mirror to comb her hair.
 
Snickering to herself, she thought of him waking up without her.
 
He probably expected her to jump up and rake him over the coals for sneaking onto the floor with her.
 
And she would have too, but he needed his rest.
 
He was still recuperating, and she knew his heroics during the night had taken their toll.

Snagging his cleaned and mended clothes from the dresser, she stealthily went downstairs and placed them on the couch beside him.
 
She stole one last glance at the sleeping prince before turning away.
 
She might as well admit it and stop fussing about it.
 
No matter how hard she tried to deny it, he would always be her dark prince in search of his ladylove.
 

Bobbi sighed softly.
 
Some girlish dreams simply refused to go away.
 
Even when the grown-up knows there’s no such thing as happily-ever-after.
 
But he had tried to be her hero during the night.
 
He’d thrown himself over her body and protected her from whatever was coming through the window with no thought to his own safety or his pain.

One corner of her mouth quirked up.
 
Maybe his armor did appear a bit tarnished, but he was definitely working his way into the role of hero and into her heart.
 

“But childish dreams are dangerous.
 
Haven’t you learned that yet?” she whispered.
 
They only lead to heartache.
 
Roger was testament to that.

He’d fit so well into her dreams, although he was fair as opposed to dark, he was her Lancelot.
 
But just as Lancelot betrayed his king and friend with Guinevere, Roger had betrayed her with some ditz named Candi.
 

She’d never forget walking in on him in the middle of
things
, and all because she’d wanted to surprise him when she’d arrived home early from her trip abroad.

“And now you drop into my life,” she muttered, fortifying her vow.
 
Dark Knight or fair, it didn’t matter.
 
They were silly girlish dreams, nothing more, and nothing good would come of them.

Turning away, she went outside to work on the generator, her chest uncomfortably tight.
 

Halfway between sleeping and waking, Travis rubbed his hand across the cool blanket beside him.
 
Something was missing.
 
The sweet smell of berries, the soft feel of silk against his cheek, a warm, perfectly shaped body pressed against his.

“Bobbi,” he whispered and opened his eyes.
 
She was gone.

Panic fell like a brick in his stomach as he shot up and quickly scanned the room.
 
He had to find her.
 
If Steele’s men had her, he’d never forgive himself.

Struggling to his feet, his ears tuned in to her voice, grumbling something about the spawn of the earth followed by the sputtering sound of a motor refusing to start.