The Bounty Hunter's Forbidden Desire

“Hey, if you’re worried about seduction, you can relax. Any other time I’d be happy to oblige, but tonight all I’m interested in are some hours of solid sleep. The only thing we’ll be removing are our shoes.”

She might have believed him...if his gaze wasn’t fastened on her mouth as if he’d like to own it before he took possession of a few other areas of her body. And to her surprise, she realized she might not mind.

* * *

As it turned out, Haley couldn’t accuse him of not behaving himself. He fell instantly and deeply asleep and remained that way. She, on the other hand, didn’t behave herself. Not emotionally, anyway.

She wasn’t happy with herself for the way she was letting him affect her. His necessary nearness to her on the bed had her far too aware of the disturbing heat of his hard body. Conscious, too, of the distinctive, masculine scent of him.

Not happy, no.

Haley didn’t expect to sleep at all. She kept picturing what she had discovered when he’d leaned toward her during the latest cuffing. He had a small scar on the outside corner of his right eye. Funny she hadn’t noticed it before then.

She could see it now just by turning her head in his direction. It was a roguish thing, the kind of souvenir a scoundrel would get in a duel.

What is wrong with you? You’ve been reading too many pirate novels.

This was ridiculous. She turned her head away from the tempting sight of him, shut her eyes and willed herself to relax. It took a while, but eventually she drifted off.

Haley had no idea how long she slept, but when she came awake, the first thing she did was check on her captor. He was still hard asleep, breathing softly. Without any evidence of snoring, she was pleased to note. The lamp on his bedside table continued to burn.

What time was it, anyway? She glanced at the watch on her unrestrained right wrist. It was probably an hour or so until sunup. She’d slept longer than she had imagined.

If it hadn’t been for that breathing, the rhythmic, slow rise and fall of his broad chest, she might have thought he had died on her in the night. Because there was no sign he had moved so much as an inch either way since he had stretched out beside her. How did he do that? Eerie. As far as she knew, Chase McKinley was legitimate. And unless she gave him any real grief, she didn’t think he was a danger to her. All the same, her resolve to get away from him was stronger than ever. And if by some miracle that chance should present itself again, this time she’d need to be smarter about it.

What did she need most of all? Money. She’d have to get her hands on some cash if she were to get back to Portland and the people she could count on to help her out of this mess.

Money, she realized, that was waiting for her on his bedside table.

Chase had locked her purse, containing her wallet and cell phone, inside the SUV, placing it far out of her reach. But his own wallet, which he’d removed from his back jeans pocket, presumably because it would have been uncomfortable to sleep on, he’d placed on the edge of his bedside table.

What’s more, the handcuff key was inside the change section of that wallet. She had watched him tuck it there.

Had she any prayer of getting the wallet without disturbing him? It wasn’t very likely, but nothing ventured...

Concentration. She would have to exercise extreme concentration, starting now. Her first step was to lie there quietly while she formed a plan. By necessity, it had to be a rough, simple plan.

She began by willing her left arm to go limp, absolutely motionless, as if it were no longer a part of her body. Only this way could she prevent the wrist of that arm from tugging in the slightest fashion on the cuffs, a fatal action that would be almost certain to rouse Chase.

This achieved, and bracing herself with her right elbow, Haley slowly elevated her body from the waist up. She was satisfied when she was sitting without having stirred any part of her lower body.

Now comes the hard stuff.

In slow, patient degrees, she twisted herself in Chase’s direction until she was facing the wallet. Could she manage this next challenge, leaning over his body while stretching her right arm out far enough to snag the wallet?

All, she reminded herself, without the use of her left arm to prop herself in place. Even though that arm had been available, there was such strain on it from holding it steady, it had gone to sleep. Like it was no longer her own limb.

What Haley needed right now was the skill of a contortionist. The best she could do was to will herself across the gulf with a combination of balance and strain. Out went her right arm, reaching, reaching.

Contact. Her forefinger on the surface of the wallet. Applying pressure, she was able to drag the wallet toward her just far enough to capture it with both forefinger and thumb. Holding her breath, she lifted it off the night table and drew it slowly, carefully toward her.

Apparently not carefully enough. She watched in horror as it slipped and landed on his waistline. She expected him to surge up off the bed, yanking on the chain between them. To her relief, there was nothing from him but a low grunt. He didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes. He was still asleep.

She waited a few seconds before plucking it off him and dropping it into her lap. Victory! She could breathe again. Her fingers were trembling now, which was why, when she parted the wallet, it fell open not to money or the handcuff key but a photograph in a clear plastic sleeve.

Haley wasn’t interested. She was ready to move on when something about the picture captured her attention. The photo showed two boys, one a teenager and the other much younger. Although the two of them were looking out at the camera with almost identical grins, it was not a posed shot. It must have been taken in midaction, with the teen just having boosted the younger boy up on a horse, where he was helping him to stay firm in the saddle.

Funny how the picture seemed to tell a story. Even odder was that it should mean something to her at all. Like, for instance, what? Haley took long seconds she couldn’t afford to examine it more closely. First of all, she could tell these two kids were related. But although they resembled each other strongly enough at that stage, the resemblance hadn’t followed them into full adulthood.

Wait a minute. How did she know that?

The explanation struck her all at once. There was just enough of a slight likeness remaining, maybe in their similar grins, to tell her why Chase McKinley should have seemed familiar to her from the beginning.

The man beside her and Josh Matthews, the man she’d dated before he left Portland, were brothers. She didn’t know how she could be certain when their surnames were different, but she was sure of it.

An unrestrained hand reached out and snatched the wallet away from her.

He was awake, was he? Good!

“Get these handcuffs off me, you son of a—”

She was so angry she choked on the rest.

* * *

Son of a bitch was right, Chase thought. He’d messed up by placing his wallet where he had thought she couldn’t possibly get at it. He had forgotten, too, that the snapshot was in there.

The mistake with the wallet, although bad enough, was nothing by itself. This whole effort was a disaster. He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he’d taken her. Crazy of him. On the other hand, it had seemed the only way to get the truth out of her. She was all he had, and now he’d blown his cover.

She rattled the handcuffs binding them.

“Take these cuffs off of me before I shout the motel down!”

Since there didn’t seem to be any wisdom in hesitation, Chase got the key out of his wallet and removed the bracelets. She couldn’t thrust herself away from him fast enough. Springing feetfirst off the bed, she whirled around to confront him, her blue eyes sparking with fire.

“I want answers, and I want them fast!”

“Hey, take it easy.”

“Do I get my answers, or do I go to the office and ask them to call the cops?”

“Look, you’ll get your answers, but don’t you think they might wait long enough for us to take turns in the bathroom? I don’t know about you, but, uh, I could use the facilities.”

Eyes narrowed at him suspiciously, she seemed to think about it a minute before deciding. “All right, but make it quick.”

Quick was exactly what Chase needed. Flushing the toilet afterwards, he washed his hands at the sink, splashed cold water on his face and was drying himself when he glimpsed his reflection in the mirror. Jeez, he looked like hell, bleary-eyed, unshaven, clothes rumpled from a night of sleep.

She was waiting for him when he emerged. “You took your time,” she grumbled.

She had a comb in her hand. As a matter of fact, it was his comb. She held it up. “I helped myself to this in your bag. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, sure, why not? Come to think of it, there’s some shaving cream in there you might like.”

She sailed by him into the bathroom, rounding on him just before she shut the door behind her. “You will be here when I come out, won’t you?”

Now that was funny, considering that until a short while ago, this was exactly the kind of question he would have been asking her. But then she no longer had a reason to escape.

Chase was ready to handle her when she came out of the bathroom. Or maybe not. He knew he looked crappy. She looked great. His comb had done wonders for that mass of dark hair. And although she might figure she could benefit from makeup, he felt her beauty was natural enough not to need it.

That face of hers was the kind a man yearned to—

Don’t go there, McKinley. This is no time for getting all worked up.

He’d left their room long enough to bring her purse from the car, passing it to her now in hopes she would regard it as a peace offering. Apparently not. She swiped it out of his hand without a word of thanks.

Damn, she was still mad as blazes.

“Your cell is there in your purse,” Chase assured her.

“Do I make my calls right now, or wait until after you talk?”

“I’m going to explain everything to you, I promise, but could we—”

“Are you going to start stalling again?”

“Hell, no, I’m— Well, yeah, I am, kind of. But, look, can’t we do this over breakfast? Haley, I’m starving. There’s a diner next door already open and serving. What do you say?”

It took Chase some time to convince her, but he finally had them in a corner of the diner seated across from each other in a booth where they could talk in privacy. She was ready to listen, calmer by then. To a degree.

Haley waited until the waitress poured coffee and retreated with their orders to accuse him. “You’re not what you say you are, and there is no legal order for my apprehension, is there?”

“Half-right.”

“And which half is that?”

“I am a licensed recovery agent. The ID I showed you is genuine.”

“Which makes the apprehension order a forgery.”

“Afraid so,” he admitted solemnly.

“Why? What is this all about?”

“It’s a little...complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it for me. There are a couple of things I need to know. We’ve established what you are. What we haven’t settled is who you are.”

Chase nodded, understanding her confusion. “The photo in my wallet. You’re wondering why Josh is a Matthews and I’m a McKinley. We’re half brothers.”

“Mmm, I kind of thought that might be the case. You look alike.”

“What else? You said there were a couple of things.”

As if fortifying herself, she brought her coffee mug to those beguiling lips of hers. He watched her swallow the brew, following it down that perfect throat.

“Yes, the second thing,” she said, lowering the mug. “About what you’re going to tell me... I want to know right now if I have a reason to think I’m being involved in something I’ll have to worry about just by hearing it. Of course,” she added quickly before Chase could reply, “you could lie about it. You did before. Only then I didn’t have a choice about going with you.”

“And now?”

“Now if I decide you’re not telling me the truth, I’m going to get up from this booth and walk out of here.”

“Then I hope this time you’ll believe me, because I need your help. No risk to you.” It was true—he had no reason to think she was in any personal danger.

There was no denying she was suspicious of him and his motives. Who could blame her? He could tell that by the way she gazed at him silently and how her fingertips beat a slow tattoo on the edge of the table before she made up her mind.

“All right, let’s hear what you have to say. Just what is this help you need from me?”

“Josh is missing.”

Her blue eyes widened. “Says who?”

“I do.” He bent toward her. “Look, you know Josh is a freelance investigative journalist. I know you know because no one could spend any time with him and not learn that. He would have talked your head off about it.”

Haley nodded. “He did.”

“I bet he also told you that for years he’s been looking for the big story that will make his reputation.”

“He mentioned it.”

She’s being cagey, Chase thought. Unwilling to give me more until she hears just what I have to say.

“Some weeks back,” he said, “Josh emailed me that he’d found that story. He was excited as hell about it, but he didn’t share any details. He would, eventually—but he always kept it to himself until the words poured out on the page. All he told me was that he’d be gone for a while. Not where or for how long. Not even the subject of the story. Just that he was following a trail, but he’d keep in touch.”

“Only he didn’t.” She was perceptive.

“I haven’t heard from him in all the weeks he’s been gone. Not a single word. When I started to worry seriously, I tried to reach him on his cell. No response.”

“Did you stop to consider he could be out of the country? Maybe in some remote area where there’s no reliable service.”

Chase shook his head. “Believe me, I thought of all the possibilities. No, something is definitely wrong. I can feel it.”

“And that qualifies as missing?”

Before he could answer her, the waitress arrived with a tray. There was the delay of the soft-spoken young woman setting out their orders—fresh grapefruit and steaming oatmeal for Haley, bacon and pancakes drenched in melting butter and maple syrup for Chase.

Before she went away, the girl poured more coffee into their mugs, leaving him aware that Haley was staring at his plate. “I don’t know how you all do it,” she said, making a face.

“Who?”

“Men. Well, most of the men I know, anyway. You eat all those calories and don’t gain an ounce. We women add pounds just looking at it. I’m surprised you didn’t ask the waitress to add a glazed doughnut to your order.”

“I might get around to that yet,” he said, tucking into his breakfast.

She waited until he’d put away a couple of slices of bacon and half of one of his pancakes before reminding him, “You still owe me an answer.”

He cleared his mouth. “Hell, yeah, I think he’s missing.”

“And you think I can help you? Why? Why would you suppose I might have information you yourself don’t have?”

“Why not? Why wouldn’t Josh have shared his plans with you? Isn’t that what lovers do?”

Chapter 4

“What in the world,” she demanded, dropping her spoon into the oatmeal in startled surprise, “made you think your brother and I are lovers?”

“Well, aren’t you?”

It was what Josh had implied in his last emails before he’d disappeared, that he was crazy about the woman he’d met in Portland on one of his assignments. Sweethearts. That was the quaint word he’d used to describe Haley Adams and him. That they were sweethearts.

It was this eager confidence to Chase, the brother Josh loved and trusted, that had gotten Chase into trouble. You weren’t supposed to be attracted in any measure, even minimally, to the woman your devoted brother deeply cared for, maybe even hoped to marry. Chase had felt like a heel, still did, for thinking lusty thoughts about her.

“I can’t imagine what impression Josh gave you about us,” Haley said, “but it seems to be an exaggerated one. We went out often, that’s true, had a lot of fun together, even became very good friends, but it didn’t go beyond that.”

Not as far as she was concerned, but he was convinced his brother felt otherwise. Poor Josh. He apparently didn’t know about that other guy in Portland, the one who might have been hanging around her before Josh and who, after Josh left the scene, had moved in on Haley. He’d seen it himself.

Haley sighed. “If you wanted my help, why didn’t you just ask me? Why all this elaborate nonsense about bringing me in because I’d violated a bond on some fictional court appearance?”

She would smell a lie if he didn’t tell the truth. “Simple. I didn’t trust you.”

“You didn’t tr—” She broke off there, looking very confused. “How could you mistrust me when you’d never met me?”

“I had a reason.”

“What reason?”

“I’d learned you had connections with some very questionable people.”

“Me? What? That deserves explaining. Like, exactly what did you learn and from whom?”

“You want the long version or the short?”

“Make it brief, but don’t leave anything out.”

Now there was a challenge, Chase thought. He had no choice but to answer it. “There’s this private investigator I use sometimes whenever the bail bond company I work for back in Seattle overloads me with FTAs and I need his help in locating the tough ones.”

“Wait a minute.” Haley wore an expression that said she was not pleased. “Are you telling me you actually had a PI following me?”

“After Josh vanished, yeah.”

“You think I had something to do with that?” No, she was definitely not pleased.

“I didn’t know what to think. I just wanted information.”

“You had some nerve! And what did your PI tell you?”

“For one thing, that you were cheating on Josh with this Bill Farley. My PI had photo evidence of the two of you being cozy around Portland, and I saw it for myself when I arrived and took over.”

“Uh-huh. And what else?”

“That your boyfriend, Farley, is actively associated with some Vegas-type racketeers.”

“Well, thank you for that very incisive report.” Her voice had turned to ice. “Now if you don’t mind hearing some advice...”

“I’m always open to suggestions,” he drawled.

“That’s good, because that’s exactly what I have. When you get back to Seattle, McKinley...when you get back there, the first thing you should do is fire your private investigator, because he definitely stinks. Then after that, I think you need to find a good ophthalmologist and have your eyes examined.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I have twenty-twenty vision.”

“I don’t see how either you or your PI possibly can. Because the both of you have badly judged the relationship between Bill Farley and me.”

“Yeah? What is the truth?”

“That poor Billy happens to be desperately in love with my friend Jennifer Donaldson. Only she’s given him back his ring and refuses to see him until he’s broken all contact with the crowd he’s been hanging around with. That much is fact.”

“So, why have you been meeting him? And don’t tell me you haven’t.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Yes, I’ve been meeting him. For one reason only. Bill knows how close I am to Jennifer. He’s been pleading with me to intercede for him. But Jennifer is right. He needs to break away from these people. They’re a rough bunch, though, and Bill is afraid of how they’ll react. Anything else?”

“There was that intimate parting on your doorstep.”

“What? The hug of sympathy? Oh, no, don’t tell me you assumed it involved a kiss behind the shrub.”

Chase raised both hands in surrender. “I give up.”

“Not yet you don’t, mister. I gave you the truth. How about yours? Were you ever going to tell me before I discovered that photo in your wallet?”

“I was waiting until Seattle.”

“Why Seattle? Why force me to come all this way? Why didn’t you just explain everything in Portland and save us the trip?”

“I didn’t trust you.”

“You didn’t trust me in Portland, but you would have trusted me in Seattle? How does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t,” Chase admitted. “All I wanted...all I had in my mind was to get you on familiar turf where I was in control, away from any possible interference from what I was convinced were your mob friends who would rush to your rescue with big guns. Look, the fact is I just wasn’t thinking straight.”

“And now? Are you thinking straight?”

“Let’s hope so.”

Chase looked down at what remained on his plate. It had to be cold by now. Neither one had touched their breakfast after the conversation had become so intense.

“I’m not hungry any longer,” he said. “What about you? You want them to bring you a fresh oatmeal?”

She shook her head. “I’m ready to leave.”

“Good. I was hoping for a chance to stretch my legs before we headed back to Portland.”

“You’re in the mood for exercise?”

“It wouldn’t hurt after all those hours yesterday and today that we’ve been sedentary. Also...”

“What?” she urged him.

“I was hoping for a chance to explain to you just why I haven’t been thinking straight.”

“And you feel a walk would be suitable for that?” The look on her face told him she was considering it. “I wouldn’t mind,” she decided.

Chase left a tip on the table, paid the bill at the counter and accompanied Haley out of the diner.

* * *

Considering the wild circumstances that had landed her in both the company and control of Chase McKinley, Haley could have been making a mistake willingly going off with him like this in a lonely place. She sensed, however, that she had nothing to fear. She remembered that she hadn’t feared him this entire time. Despite his bounty hunter swagger, there had been a gentleness lurking within him.

On the other hand, her trust could have more to do with the morning than the man. The sun had risen over the mountains in the east while they were in the diner, promising another feel-good day for Washington. It was still cool, though, with dew on the grass.

Just past the diner, on the access road off the interstate that had brought them first to the motel, was a posted trail to a nature preserve. It was the perfect place for a stroll, lined with the glossy-leaved rhododendrons that were native to the Pacific coast. Even now, past their bloom, they were magnificent shrubs.

“Before you begin,” she said, “there’s something I’d like to know. Josh told me he had this half brother who was an army ranger and stationed overseas. And here you are, a bounty hunter and not overseas.”

“Yeah, well, that’s past tense.” Hands shoved into his pants pockets, he paused to watch a bald eagle circling slowly high overhead. “The thing is, our dad—Josh’s biological father to put it accurately—died from a ruptured aneurysm just a couple of weeks before my current enlistment was up.”

“I’m sorry about your father.” She paused. “They sent you home for the funeral, I suppose.”

“That and to help Josh settle affairs. By the time that was done, I’d decided not to reenlist.”

“I see.” Haley nodded, and then almost as a part of the same action shook her head. “No, I don’t see. Didn’t you care for the army?”

“Sure, I liked it just fine. It was my career.”

“Then why...”

He walked on, changing the subject. Or seeming to. “I bet Josh never mentioned to you that after I quit the army, I joined the ranks of the bounty hunters.”

“Come to think of it,” she said catching up to him, “he never spoke at all about you after that one time.”