Beverly Barton

Murdock's Last Stand


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one hand down and around her waist, while the other wound around the back of her neck, Murdock lowered his head farther, until his mouth was a hair-breadth away from hers. “Just what do you want to know about me?”

      Chapter 3

      The flight from Atlanta to Peru had taken off precisely at eight. Catherine hadn’t known that they would be flying on the Dundee private jet—just one of many things Murdock hadn’t bothered explaining. Their confrontation last night had ended in a stalemate. He hadn’t won the battle. And she hadn’t actually lost it. In retrospect she could admit to herself that she’d never been as frightened or as excited by a man as she’d been when Murdock had almost kissed her. If she hadn’t withdrawn, hadn’t pulled back, hadn’t broken eye contact, she wasn’t sure what might have happened.

      The logical part of her personality felt a great sense of relief that she’d had the good sense not to allow her emotions free rein. But the purely female aspects of her mind and body couldn’t forget the way she’d felt and longed to feel again.

      “How about some breakfast?” Murdock unhooked his seat belt, then rose and headed toward the galley. “There’s coffee and sweet rolls and muffins. What’ll you have?”

      Catherine released the catch of her seat belt, stood and stretched. She had chosen brown pants and a tan jacket of a nonwrinkle material for the long trip, planning to use the outfit more than once. She had packed light. After all, this was supposed to be a quick trip in and out of Zaraza. All they had to do was pay the ransom money for her father and then bring him out of the country as fast as possible.

      Without replying to Murdock, she made her way to the galley and poured her own coffee, picked up a paper napkin and then chose a sweet roll from the assortment. She didn’t bother even looking at her bodyguard. To be honest, she was having a difficult time facing him this morning, after the way she’d run from him last evening. He had to be aware of the way he’d affected her—of the reason she’d run from him.

      “Giving me the silent treatment today?” Murdock filled his cup, grabbed two rolls and watched Catherine as she sat and crossed her ankles in a demure, ladylike fashion.

      Was she upset with him? he wondered. Still angry that he’d compiled an extensive report on her? Or was her attitude the result of something a little more basic? She had run from him last night, as if he’d been a monster ready to devour her.

      “I’m more than willing to talk to you.” She tilted her nose just enough to imply superiority. “As a matter of fact, I have dozens of questions and I’d very much like some answers.”

      Murdock sat beside her, then lifted his coffee mug in a salute. “Fire away. What do you want to know?”

      Eyeing him suspiciously, she picked up the roll from the napkin on her knee, brought it to her mouth and took a bite. After laying the roll back on the napkin, she took a sip of coffee. “Since we’re using the Dundee jet, why aren’t we flying directly into Zaraza today?”

      “Because only Zarazaian planes are allowed in and out of the country right now. Even the commercial flights have been canceled temporarily.”

      “Then how are we going to fly into—”

      “Arrangements are being made for us to take a Zarazaian plane. Hopefully, by tomorrow morning, we’ll be in San Carlos.”

      “Hopefully? Do you mean there’s a chance we—”

      “My contact in Lima should be able to arrange the flight,” Murdock told her.

      Catherine glowered at Murdock. “Would you mind allowing me to finish one sentence without interrupting? Don’t you have any manners at all?”

      Murdock chuckled. Manners? Had she actually said manners? “Sorry, ma’am. I’m afraid not spending much time around ladies, I have forgotten my manners.”

      “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm, either!”

      “You don’t appreciate much of anything about me, do you, Cat?”

      “Cat!”

      “Yeah, honey, that’s what you remind me of—a spitting, hissing she-cat, who has her claws drawn and is ready to fight, even with very little provocation.”

      “My name isn’t Cait or Cathy and it most definitely isn’t Cat. It’s Catherine. Do I make myself clear… Aloysius?” Her lips curved in a self-satisfied smile. She could tell from the sudden tension in his jaws and the narrowing of his eyes that her use of his given name had accomplished the desired effect.

      “Nobody calls me Aloysius.” His voice roared, deep, throaty and harsh.

      “Then we have a deal—you don’t call me Cat and I won’t call you Aloysius.”

      “So, the lady knows how to fight dirty.” Setting his mug and roll on the tray in front of him, he turned to her. She visibly cringed when he settled his gaze directly on her face. “In case you didn’t know it, that was a compliment…Catherine.”

      “Thank you.” She wished he’d stop inspecting her so thoroughly.

      His big hand came toward her so quickly that she had no time to withdraw before he wiped the corner of her mouth with the tip of his index finger. She sucked in her breath and held it until her lungs ached for release.

      Her startled eyes expressed what she felt. Murdock realized touching her had been a mistake. One he shouldn’t make again. He sensed a hunger in Catherine that could be dangerous for both of them. “You had sugar from the sweet roll on—”

      She released her breath and glowered at him. “Next time, just tell me. I’m perfectly capable of wiping my own mouth.”

      He stood abruptly. With his back to her, he said, “You’re perfectly capable of doing a great deal, I’m sure.”

      Why was she allowing this man to have such a negative effect on her? she wondered. Just because she found herself attracted to him, on some purely primitive, animalistic level, didn’t mean she would ever act on those unwanted feelings. And there was no excuse for her taking out her frustration and anger with her father on Murdock, no matter how alike the two men were. This man meant nothing to her and never would.

      “Murdock?”

      His big shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

      “Let’s call a truce,” she said. “I admit that I’ve been deliberately difficult, but so have you. Can’t we be more pleasant to each other and agree to disagree on certain issues? After all, we have to put up with each other for only a few days. Just long enough to rescue my father.”

      Hell! She’s right, he thought. Just because she pushed all his buttons didn’t mean he had to react like an idiot when she irritated him. So what if her superior, lady-of-the-manor persona reminded him of Barbara the Beast. So what if she’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t like him. So what if she was a good-looking woman and when they came into physical contact with each other, sparks flew.

      He turned slowly and by the time he faced her, he had a forced smile in place. “No more squabbles. We have a mission to accomplish together, whether we like it or not.”

      “Do you think we’ll run into any major problems once we arrive in San Carlos?” she asked, wanting to focus on their joint venture and not on the man himself.

      “Anything can happen once we cross the border over into Zaraza. That’s why it’s imperative that you don’t question any command I issue. If I tell you to jump off a bridge, then by God, you jump off that bridge without hesitation. Do you understand?”

      Every muscle in Catherine’s body stiffened. She despised the thought of mindlessly following anyone’s lead. But her common sense told her that in this case she needed to make an exception. “I understand.”

      He eyed her skeptically.

      “Really.