Cowboy Delirium

Rio, on the other hand, had apparently bathed in the lake. His hair was damp, raked back but with thick locks falling over his forehead. He was shirtless, revealing a muscled six-pack, a rock-hard abdomen. He wore his virility well.

Luke rose, padded past her and stopped at the back door, staring out like a caged animal. “I need some whiskey.”

Rio ignored the comment.

“I’m serious, man. I need a drink.”

“There’s water.”

Luke uttered a string of vile curses, then walked back to the sofa and plopped down on the saggy, soiled cushions. “We got a car right outside. It wouldn’t hurt anything for me to drive into the nearest town and find a liquor store.”

“You have a short memory. Poncho said the car was to be used only at his orders. I didn’t hear him order a whiskey run.”

“Well, if I have to stay cooped up in this godforsaken place much longer without liquor, I’ll go nuts. How’s that for a friggin’ emergency?”

“Suck it up,” Rio said.

“Suck it up yourself, pantywaist. I got the key to that car right here.” He pulled a metal ring from his pocket and shook it. “You think you can stop me if I decide to take the vehicle?”

Rio stood and glared down at Luke, his muscles flexed so that his forearms looked like balls of steel. “I could stop you if I gave a damn. I don’t. If you want to flout Poncho’s rules, go right ahead. In the meantime, I suggest you guard the prisoner.” With that he turned and strode out the back door, leaving her alone with Luke.

Jaime pushed the rest of her sandwich aside and walked to the back door. Rio trod the path to the lake, and then stepped into a cluster of trees, disappearing from sight. A sliver of panic rode her spine—an unconscious, but stupid and dangerous reaction. If she started depending on Rio to save her, she was doomed.

She was alone with Luke now. He had the car key and a weapon resting beside him in plain sight. If she could get her hands on the key and the gun, the power would switch to her hands.

Her heart began to race as a plan took form. She smoothed her hair with her fingers and bit her lips to give them some color. There was nothing she could do about her bare feet or the less than pristine condition of her dress.

Retaking her seat and turning toward Luke, she crossed her legs and kicked one seductively. “How do you stand Rio bossing you around all the time?”

Luke looked her up and down, leering as his gaze settled on various parts of her body. She struggled to keep from retching.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Did the macho Navy SEAL go limp on you this morning?”

“Rio’s a SEAL?” She blurted out the question without thinking.

“He was until they kicked him out. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you. He thinks it makes him better than me.”

It wouldn’t take much to be better than Luke. Still, it shocked Jaime to think that a former SEAL could be mixed up in a kidnapping at gunpoint.

“I think you should go get that whiskey,” she said. “I know I could use some.”

“Sure, go get the whiskey and leave you alone so you can try to escape again.”

“You could take me with you.”

“And have you yell out in the store that I’m holding you captive? I’m nobody’s fool, princess.”

“I never said you were.” She walked over and sat down beside him. He smelled of garlic and sweat, making her stomach churn.

He laid a hand on her thigh. “Now you’re getting smart, sweetheart. I’m the real man here. You be good to me, and I’ll be good to you.”

“How good?” She forced a sultry tone to her voice and fought off another wave of nausea. The impulse to stare at the gun was almost overpowering, but she couldn’t do anything to make Luke suspicious.

He pressed his lips against hers. Fighting revulsion and the urge to clock him, she kissed him back. When his hands groped beneath her dress, she reached out and closed her hand around the gun.

“Hands over your head or I’ll shoot,” she ordered as she broke the kiss.

Curses fired from Luke’s mouth, but he raised his hands above his head. She took a deep breath, working to get her wits about her. Then with one quick move, Luke battered his head into her chest. She fell backward, but didn’t let go of the gun.

Her finger circled the trigger, but before she could pull it, Luke kicked the pistol from her hands. She fell on top of it, but he yanked her back up by her hair. The pain was so intense, she felt as if she were being scalped. She kept fighting for the gun, but Luke was too strong for her. The weapon slipped from her grasp.

She tried to break away and run. Her foot slipped.

Gunfire exploded in her brain and blood splattered over her like crimson rain.

Chapter Five

“Lawmen are reporting lots of new faces in Texas border towns.”

“Assassins?”

“It’s possible, but not definite. No one has come up with details, but the consensus is that Detonation Day is imminent. We may have a matter of days to stop it. Perhaps less.”

And Rio was stuck out here in this miserable cabin guarding some woman the drug lords had decided was worth kidnapping. “I’ve let everybody down,” he said into his miniature cell phone.

“If you go strictly by results, we all have. As long as you’re in the middle of the kidnapping, you may still be valuable. And if not, you’re in a position to save at least one—”

A thunderous clap of gunfire drowned out the rest of the sentence. Rio took off running without bothering to explain. He covered the few yards to the cabin in seconds, horror building at what he might find.

The blood was the first image that registered when he opened the door. It dripped from Jaime’s face and puddled in the folds of her dress. She’d fallen back against the cushions of the sofa. Her eyes were glazed with dread—or pain.

He plunged back into the past and into a memory so vivid that sharp pains needled his heart. He had trouble breathing. His feet refused to move.

A split second later, adrenaline coursed through his veins again, and he crossed the space that separated him from Jaime. It was then that he spotted Luke, draped over the far side of the sofa, still clutching the pistol though his left leg was soaked in blood. The leg of his jeans was torn from the bullet and Luke was using his left hand to apply pressure to the gaping wound.

“The bitch shot me.”

It was Luke who’d been shot, not Jaime. The blood was Luke’s. Rio had little success wrapping his mind around how that had happened but it was enough for now that she was okay.

Luke raised the pistol and pointed it at Jaime. “No woman shoots me and gets away with it.”

Rio extended his open hand. “Give me the gun, Luke.”

“Get the hell out of my way or I swear I’ll kill you, too.”

“You kill Jaime, and Poncho will see that you never see another sunrise. Is a death sentence what you want, Luke? If not, hand me the damn pistol.”

Luke muttered under his breath, a few curses that even Rio hadn’t heard before, but he had to know Rio had spoken the truth.