Desert Ice Daddy by Marton, Dana (pocket ebook reader .TXT) 📕

lose the tracks in the twilight? We could end up going in the wrong direction.” That panicked determination was back in her eyes again, like it had been during the firefight.

He understood. She was afraid that whatever decision they made might turn out to be the wrong one for Christopher. She was holding up admirably, all in all. She had every right to be worried and emotional.

“If we get off track, it’ll only be by a short distance. We can backtrack tomorrow. It’s a chance we’ll have to take,” he said.

“Because of one lousy chopper?”

“Because if they weren’t here to rescue us, then why were they here? Who needs our location? The location of the money.” He stuffed his gear back into the duffel bags, leaving the small tent for last.

She watched him quietly. And after a moment, she moved to help.

She’d been right, he thought an hour later as they walked northeast, the direction the pickup had seemed to be heading, judging by the tracks. Tracks he hadn’t seen for the past five minutes. If the ground had been muddy, or made of soft sand, the twilight would have been enough to pick out the tire tracks. Instead, the area was a combination of dirt and small rocks, the shallow impression the tires had made difficult enough to follow even in full light. They were losing the trail.

So he made a point in not going too far, not looking for the perfect place, just the nearest clump of acacias that was large enough and thick enough to hide the tent. Another ten minutes brought just such a stand of trees and bushes into view, but another half an hour passed before they reached it.

They set up the tent in silence. The leaves above filtered what little light was left.

He didn’t understand how the cops had found them in the vast desert with such unerring certainty. It was as though the chopper had been headed straight to their tent. And how had they found them in the first place, at the boulder?

Even if Gary had tipped them off to the exchange, Gary hadn’t known where exactly the exchange would take place. Taylor had been given that information little by little, over the phone the kidnappers had left for them. There had to be a locator. He hadn’t found one in the Thermos, and in any case, the Thermos was no longer with them. Chances were that the locator had been someplace else all along.

He went still with the thought. “Come over here.”

THE TENT WAS SMALL and dim, and she didn’t know what he wanted from her, but she was too emotionally exhausted to worry about it.

“If the tracker wasn’t in the Thermos Gary gave you, did he touch you?” His voice was slightly off.

“He gave me a hug when he showed up.” And she’d been so relieved that he was sober and cooperating that she had let him that close, if only for a second.

“He could have planted a tracker on you then.” Akeem was already reaching for her collar, running his sure fingers across the material, the back of his hand brushing the sensitive skin on her neck. “I don’t want to turn on the flashlight in case anyone is out there looking for us. We can check by feel.”

That Gary would betray her like this when their son’s life was at stake defied belief. She stood still for the search, seething with anger.

Until Akeem’s fingers brushed against her collarbone.

She held her breath.

When he didn’t find anything there, he moved on, giving her clothing a thorough examination, down her arms, her waist, her legs to the cuffs on her pants, leaving a tingling path in his wake. But since stripping out of her clothes was the only alternative, she couldn’t very well protest, not even if he was awakening some long-dormant sensations that made it difficult to remain motionless under his hands.

She felt nineteen again, except that she no longer needed beer in her system to dull her inhibitions. She was a grown woman. A woman who could still remember how she had thrown herself at Akeem, had touched him, pulled him close, had pressed her lips to his. She had wanted him with all the passion and desperation of youth.

And she wanted him still.

The realization came as a surprise, leaving her annoyed and embarrassed. And aching for more of his touches. But no way would she ever proposition him like that again. She’d just as soon not repeat the most embarrassing night of her life.

He’d shown little interest in her then, and even less since. Well, ever, to be truthful. And then there was Kat Edwards, the woman Akeem had not long ago brought out to the ranch. He’d asked Flint to hire her as a favor. And he’d been checking in with Flint on how she was doing. Who was she, and what was the relationship between the two? The few times Akeem visited lately, his first trip was always to Kat.

She had tried hard not to hate the woman who’d succeeded at getting Akeem’s attention in a way she’d never been able to.

Even now, with him touching her and her body fairly begging for more, he was nothing if not professional, didn’t linger. Her face, on the other hand, was flooded with heat by the time he finished. She was more than aware of his proximity, of the intimacy of their situation.

He stayed still for a long moment, breathed in, breathed out. “I can’t find anything,” he said darkly, then stood in front of her and held his arms out to the sides. “You’re next. I’ve been talking to the cops. One of them could have stuck something on me while I was busy with the other.”

An invitation to touch Akeem.

Oh, my.

What wouldn’t she have given for this a couple of years back? And even now, she wasn’t nearly as unaffected as she would have hoped. So much for all the maturity and self-control age was