if true—
He stepped in front of her, one large hand absently rubbing the palm of the other as he stared at her. His look sent a shudder through her.
She dropped her gaze, letting it fall to his large hands again and felt that flicker of a memory just beyond her grasp. He quit rubbing his palm and she saw something that stopped her heart dead. Teeth marks.
* * *
SETH HAD COME OUT of the cockpit already distracted because of the change in plans. He wouldn’t be dropping her at the airstrip after all, but taking her on by helicopter to the cabin. He swore under his breath; he hated changes. But mostly he just wanted this to be over.
Then he’d looked up and seen her.
Even if she hadn’t reminded him of Shanna, he’d have been thrown off guard by her. She looked damn good in jeans and a flannel shirt, round and full in all the right places, just as he’d known she would. She’d pulled her wild mane of hair back with a thin lavender ribbon from her dress and rolled up the sleeves on the shirt, exposing lightly freckled, sun-browned forearms.
But it was her face, with those incredible violet eyes, that made him unable to keep his gaze—and his thoughts—off her, no matter how hard he tried to keep his distance.
That’s why it took him a moment to realize that more than her clothes had changed.
Although trying hard not to show it, she’d remembered something. It showed in that incredible face, just like every emotion she’d felt so far.
He could only guess what she’d remembered. Not that it mattered now. But as he followed her gaze to the palm of his right hand, at least he knew what had triggered it.
Suddenly the door to the plane yawned open, a gaping dark hole beside him. A gust of cold air whooshed in, scented with pine and snow. God, it had been so long. The air brought with it a rush of remembrances, some so painful he felt as if he’d been blindsided.
Of course she took that opportunity to dart for the open doorway. He dropped a hand to her shoulder and gently pulled her back.
Her eyes widened as she lifted her face to him. “Who are you?” Her voice had an edge to it, as if warning him that he just might not know whom he was dealing with.
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” he said. “It isn’t about me.”
“Then who is it about?” she asked. “My father?”
“I don’t know. Neither will you until we get to the cabin.”
“The cabin?” Her gaze refused to release him. It was as if she could see into his very soul. From the disgust on her face, she didn’t like what she saw there. “You’re not telling me anything.”
“It’s the best I can do.” Seth could see that wasn’t good enough. “It will all be clear when we get to the cabin.” Indecision played across her features. “I hope it won’t be necessary for me to drug you again,” he said softly.
The violet eyes widened for an instant, then narrowed in an emotion he recognized only too clearly. Fury.
“Good,” he said. “It appears we understand each other.”
* * *
OH, SHE UNDERSTOOD him all right. She’d been kidnapped! The frightening images in her head had been real! Memories scudded by like dark ominous clouds. The sound of him behind her, the overwhelming arms tightening around her, the hand covering her mouth. Screaming inside. Fighting. Fighting fruitlessly in helpless terror. Then the prick of a needle in her arm. Then nothing.
The bastard had drugged her! And now he’d threatened to do it again unless she cooperated. She glared at him. Tears stung her eyes but she would not cry. Tears would show weakness. She had to be strong, keep her head, use her head.
He pulled on his sheepskin coat, settled the Stetson on his head, his gaze steady, impassive and honed in on her like radar, but calm. Too calm. A shiver raced through her. A man who’d just kidnapped Texas Senator James Marshall McCord’s daughter should be worried as all get-out. Only a crazy man wouldn’t be. A crazy man. Or a man who had nothing to lose. She stared at him, afraid he just might be both.
“Let’s go,” he said as he picked up her clothes and stuffed them into a backpack from behind his seat. He nudged her forward, his hand firmly on her shoulder. “Watch your step.”
She didn’t miss the warning in his words. But she had no intention of doing anything that would give him an excuse to drug her again. Drugged, she didn’t stand a chance.
At the open doorway she stopped to look out. Snow. It shone, silver-white against the dark of night; it covered the ground as far as she could see. Whoever had opened the door didn’t seem to be around anymore, but nearby a helicopter waited.
The cowboy took hold of her the moment they stepped onto the frozen ground and drew her toward the chopper, his hand clamped firmly around her upper arm, his body pressed against her side.
She looked around, hoping there would be other people, someone she could call to for help. But the airstrip was empty and a large white expanse of open field ran for a good mile in the direction of the lights of the town. The only building, the hangar, sat dark and empty.
As she neared the whirring blades of the helicopter, wind spun the fallen snow, showering her in white ice-cold powder. The door opened and she was pushed up into a seat behind the pilot. Her kidnapper slid in next to her, his thigh against hers in the tight confines of the chopper.
Before she could buckle up, the helicopter lifted off, spinning away into the night. She pressed herself to the side window, pulling away from him. All she could see below was the shine of the snow broken occasionally by the dark fringe of the evergreens and the rise and fall of mountains as the chopper skimmed low over them.
Without a word, he reached across to snap her seat belt closed, forcing her to touch him again.
His closeness assaulted her senses. But this time, his male scent evoked memories of the kidnapping, the same way his muscled thigh against her leg reminded her how easily he could overpower her. The images danced before her. Pouring rain. Darkness. His arms clamped around her and the helplessness she’d felt as he’d dragged her away from her car, away from her life.
She looked back. The lights of the town were gone. Slowly she turned to stare ahead again into the darkness, her heartbeat a deafening roar in her ears. Tears blurred her eyes as sobs rose in her throat, choking her. She’d been kidnapped. The ramifications had finally hit home. All her bravado, all her control, all her toughness deserted her. She was afraid, ice-in-the-veins afraid.
* * *
THEY WEREN’T IN THE AIR but a few minutes when the helicopter dropped low, hovered for a moment, then set down in a cloud of whirling snow.
“Ladies first,” her cowboy kidnapper said as he leaned over to open her door.
She glanced at the pilot, but immediately changed her mind about making a desperate attempt to gain his help. The man had to be in on this.
She reached down, her fingers fumbling with the seat belt buckle. Suddenly the cowboy’s hands covered hers and she felt the buckle release. No more stalling. This was it.
She slid out of the seat and down, tom between the fears that he planned to leave her out here alone and that he was coming with her. He stepped down beside her, grasping her arm again as he leaned over her, shielding her from the pounding ice crystals as the chopper lifted off.
Within moments the whir of its blades died away, as did the lights of the helicopter. She waited for the darkness to close in. But it didn’t. An almost full moon rose above the low-hanging clouds, illuminating them and casting an eerie light across the snow. In that strange light, she could see that they’d landed in a small, isolated meadow. Past it, she could see nothing but snow, pine trees and mountains. No sign of life. Except for the man beside her.
Her pulse drummed in