Cowboy Delirium

But he’d signed on to do a job. And with a frogman, even a former one, failure was never an option.

IT RAINED SOMETIME during the night, a steady downpour that cleared the pollen from the air and then gave way to the brilliant glow of the morning sun. Even filtered through the layers of grime that smudged the cabin’s windows, the rays painted the dingy kitchen in golden streams of light.

Rio checked out the refrigerator for food while Luke sat at the marred kitchen table scratching the toes of his right foot. Jaime was still in her room, though Rio had unlocked it a good half hour ago and told her she was welcome to come out for coffee.

The options for food were limited, but better than Rio had expected. “How about toast, bacon and eggs?” he asked.

“I could go for that,” Luke agreed, finally reaching for his sock, “but I say make the broad cook it. Cooking’s woman’s work.”

“Easy to see why you’re not married.”

“I’m serious. I don’t see why she should just get to lie around all day while we wait on her.”

“She didn’t exactly plan the party.” Rio took a skillet from the dishes he’d washed earlier that morning. With roaches and who knows what other insects and rodents scampering about, detergent and hot water seemed a good idea. He placed the bacon in it and put it over a low fire, then started spreading butter on bread for toast.

Soft footfalls sounded in the hall. He turned around just as Jaime stepped inside the kitchen door.

“There’s coffee,” Rio said, his eyes riveted to the petite, but shapely woman who showed little signs of the stress she had to be feeling.

Her wraparound dress was wrinkled, but hugged her perky breasts and firm, round buttocks provocatively. She’d shed the jewelry and the sexy heels. Her bare feet and freshly scrubbed face made her look almost waiflike. Her hair, which had been up last night, was down, the strawberry-blond locks tumbling around her shoulders. Disheveled. Tempting.

“I’d like to take a shower,” she said. “Or isn’t there one in this disgusting place?”

“There’s one,” Rio said, “but it’s not working. The water’s a bit cold in the lake, but I’ll walk you down there after breakfast if you’d like to bathe.”

Luke leered at her. “I’ll take care of that chore.”

She shot him a castrating look. “I’d sooner wallow in mud.”

“Yeah, that sounds fun, too.”

Rio filled a clean mug with coffee and handed it to her. “There’s sugar on the counter and milk in the fridge if you want it.”

“No, this is fine,” she murmured. “Thanks.”

There was a pause before the last word, as if it was added as an afterthought. He hoped that meant she was coming around to the point where she might cooperate with him, but he wouldn’t hold his breath waiting for that.

“How do you like your eggs?” he asked.

“Why ask her?” Luke quipped. “She ought to be cooking for us, if the princess knows how to scramble an egg.”

Jaime marched across the kitchen, planted herself in front of the grease-stained range and grabbed the carton of eggs. She broke two into the small skillet and then glared at Luke. “How much arsenic do you want in yours?”

“You got a smart mouth on you, you know that? I want them over easy, and don’t break the yolks.”

Rio removed a pan of toast from beneath the broiler and watched as she deliberately pricked the first yolk and let the yellow run to the edges of the skillet. If they made it through breakfast without a major flare-up between her and Luke he’d be surprised—and relieved.

He didn’t put anything beyond Luke, especially if Jaime pushed him. He’d as soon rape her as not. The way he was looking at her right now evidenced the thought was already festering in his mind.

When the eggs were ready, Jaime slid them onto a plate, sprinkled them generously with salt and pepper and then tossed a couple of slices of toast next to them. “Jelly?” she asked, eyeing a large jar of strawberry preserves.

“Sure, sweetheart. Why not?” Luke said, smiling. “And I want you to sit with me while I eat. Right here,” he said, patting his right knee. “We need to get to know each other better.”

Her expression was one of fury, but her hands were steady as she opened the jar and spooned a large helping of the sticky condiment onto the plate next to the eggs. Padding across the floor determinedly, she stopped inches from Luke.

Luke patted his knee again. Jaime smiled. Rio’s muscles hardened into bulging knots as he braced himself for trouble. Jaime took the last step and then tripped, falling against the table as the plate dropped from her hands and landed upside down in Luke’s lap.

Curses flew from Luke’s mouth as he leapt from the chair and grabbed her arm. “You bitch. You did that on purpose.”

She tilted her head back and stared at him defiantly.

Luke fit one hand around her smooth neck, letting his fingers dig into the flesh. “Lick it off,” he demanded. “Every drop. Lick it off.” He pushed her face into the sugary mound of red preserves that clung to his jeans.

Jaime’s knee jerked upward, connecting with Luke’s groin, and this time the man went totally berserk. Rio flew across the room, reaching them just in time to stop Luke’s fist before it slammed into Jaime’s jaw.

He shoved Luke against the wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving that tramp what she deserves. You saw what she did.”

“That tramp is the reason we’re here. Mess her up and you’ll answer to Poncho. We both will. Is that what you want?”

“Poncho or not, I’m not taking that off no woman.”

“She dropped a plate. That’s all.”

Luke muttered a new string of curses. “She didn’t drop it. She dumped it on me.”

“So get over it. We got a job to do and it doesn’t include roughing up the victim. You could get carried away and blow the whole ransom deal. You know what that will get you.”

The fight slowly went out of Luke. His muscles quit straining and his fists relaxed. By the time Rio let go of him, smoke was filling the room. Rio hurried to turn off the fire under the skillet.

And then he noticed that Jaime was nowhere in sight. Damn. In that split second when he was dealing with Luke, she must have made a getaway. But she was barefoot. She couldn’t have gotten far.

He rushed toward the back door and caught sight of a wave of blue fabric weaving through the trees. He took off running, the pine straw skidding from beneath his feet, low limbs from scraggly trees tearing at his shirt.

If she escaped, he could kiss goodbye any chance of continuing to be a player. He made a dive for her as she skirted the muddy banks of the lake. They both went down in a tangle of arms, legs and wild locks of blond hair.

Jaime lay beneath him, facedown and spewing clumps of damp earth from her mouth. He rolled her to her back, straddled her and pinned her hands above her head to keep her from fighting him.

Her dress hung off one shoulder, revealing a mound of perfect flesh and a deep reddish-pink nipple that stared him in the face.

His body hardened and desire engulfed him in blistering waves. He rolled off her, leaving her short dress to bunch at her waist. A few wayward blond hairs peeked from beneath the wisp of black lace pantie.

He groaned, but kept her pinned to the earth. A man could only take so much.

Chapter Four

Jaime’s heart pounded and her breath came in painful gasps.