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Finally he returned to her mouth, where his lips gentled. He nibbled, he tasted, he nipped, until dark waves of heat swept over her, leaving her needy. She opened her mouth to moan his name, and he swept inside to taste her more intimately.
His hands slid down her back, caressing her spine, smoothing over every muscle along the way. Desire coiled inside her, until she throbbed in rhythm with every touch of his hands, every movement of his lips.
She tried to move closer to him. She needed to feel the hard planes of his body against hers, needed to feel his weight and heat pressing into her. His hands tightened on her for a moment, then he pressed her down onto the couch.
His leg curled around hers, and he leaned over her. His eyes were nearly black with passion, and the planes of his face were hard. “For God’s sake, Willa. Tell me to stop.”
She looked up at him, knowing her eyes were dazed, knowing that he could see the desire and passion in her face. “I don’t want you to stop, Griff. Kiss me again.”
He closed his eyes as a shudder passed through him, then he bent and took her mouth again. He smoothed her hair away from her face, and his hand trailed down her neck. He stroked the skin of her throat at the opening of her blouse, then pressed his mouth to the spot.
“You’re so soft,” he whispered. “So smooth. Are you this soft everywhere?”
He hesitated for a moment, then he slowly pulled her blouse out of the waistband of her slacks. He kissed her again as he slid his hand onto her abdomen.
Her skin jumped and heated at his touch, and she shifted against him. His leg slid between hers, and she pressed herself closer to him. She clung to him, lost in the sensations crashing over her. She still couldn’t believe that Griff apparently wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“Griff,” she said fiercely, turning so that her body fitted more closely against his.
He wove his hands into her hair, pulling her closer. His mouth took hers in a storm of heat and desire, and she answered him back, kiss for kiss, touch for touch.
But when he shifted his hand he pressed against her cut, and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out. He stilled immediately, then began easing himself away from her.
“I’m sorry, Willa,” he said.
“Don’t be.” Her voice was fierce. “You didn’t mean to touch my bruise.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry I touched you in the first place, sorry it got out of hand.”
Slowly she drew away from him, feeling a ball of hurt swelling in her throat. “You’ll notice I wasn’t objecting too much.”
“You should have been. My God, Willa, I gave Ryan my word that I would take care of you. I promised him that I would protect you. I’m sure that what we were just doing wasn’t what he had in mind.”
She couldn’t believe how much his words stung. “Does Ryan decide who you get involved with?” She tried to make her voice cool to hide her pain. “He doesn’t run my life. What does he have to do with what goes on between us?”
“I don’t answer to any man, including Ryan Fortune.” He scowled at her and stood. “But I honor my word. And when I said I would protect you, I meant just that.”
“I don’t notice any kidnappers pounding at the door. So what are you worried about?”
Griff sighed and ran his hand through his short brown hair. “If I’m thinking about you, about how much I want to kiss you, I’m not thinking about how to protect you. My mind can’t be in two places at once. And when I was kissing you, that’s definitely all I was thinking about.”
She angled her chin at him, unwilling to concede the point. “You said no one followed us. No one knows where we are. So what are you worried about?”
“I’m worried about what I can’t predict. I’m worried about where the next threat is coming from. I had no idea that you were going to be kidnapped when I showed up at your apartment. It just happened. And I have no way of knowing what’s going to happen next.”
She looked out the window at the trees surrounding the cabin and the mountain rising behind it, then looked back at Griff. His face was closed off and remote. “What kind of man are you, Griff, that you worry about things like that?” she asked softly.
“I’m the kind of man you don’t need in your life,” he said harshly. “I’m the kind of man your mother should have warned you about.”
“My mother left us when I was a baby,” she said coolly. “So her opinion wouldn’t count. And my father taught me to pay attention to my instincts. But apparently my instincts were wrong.”
“Damn right your instincts were wrong.” He scowled again. “I’m going out to get some firewood. It’s going to get cold in here.”
Griff slammed out the door, and Willa sank back onto the couch. In spite of Griff’s words, he couldn’t deny what she’d seen in his face. Or felt in his touch. He had wanted her, as much as she’d wanted him.
She closed her eyes to savor the knowledge, to wrap herself in the warmth of Griff’s desire for a moment longer. These last few months, when she’d been dreaming of Griff, imagining his kiss, he’d been thinking about her, too. He hadn’t merely been overcome by unexpected passion. She might not be very worldly, but she could tell when a man wanted her.
And Griff had wanted her.
Logs thumped against the side of the house, jerking her back to reality. The sound reminded her that they were in this cabin because someone wanted to kidnap her, or worse. Someone hated her enough to want to harm her.
Griff was right, she told herself. She should be worrying about what had brought them here, not about Griff and how he felt about her. Or how she felt about him.
Griff wouldn’t fit into her life. He would never want to settle down in a university town like College Station. She couldn’t imagine him as the husband of a college professor, going to faculty dinners and cocktail parties. She couldn’t imagine him as a husband, period. Griff was too wild, too untamed to fit into an easy, comfortable life-style like the one she was building.
A small voice in the back of her brain pointed out that being a college professor, having a stable and secure life, was her father’s dream for her. It hadn’t always been her dream. But she banished the voice from her mind. Being a college professor was the life she’d chosen, and she was damn good at it. And she would go on being good at it, as soon as they figured out who wanted to kidnap her.
In the meantime, she’d stay as far away from Griff as possible. It wasn’t going to be easy to avoid him in this tiny cabin, but she’d do her best. There would be no repeats of the kiss they had shared.
Griff was right. They both had other things to worry about.
She stifled her heart’s protest and stood. If Griff was getting firewood, she could make lunch.
Griff raised the ax again and brought it crashing down on the log. It split into several satisfying pieces, and he bent down to stack them in the growing pile next to him.
The wood piled next to the house had needed to be split before it could be used, and Griff was happy to do the job. He figured if he raised the ax and brought it down enough times, if he pushed his body to the breaking point, he’d get rid of the desire that still pulsed inside him.
He still couldn’t believe he’d kissed Willa—and that he would have done a hell of a lot more than kiss her if he hadn’t accidentally touched the bruise on the side of her head.
Thank God she’d flinched. It had brought him to his senses, and not a moment too soon. He’d been so consumed with his need for her that in another few minutes he’d have had her naked underneath him on the couch.
He cringed when he thought about it. He was here to protect Willa, to make sure that nothing happened to her. And the first time they were alone together, he had forgotten everything he’d been trained to remember.
Some protector he was.
He swung the ax again and split apart another log. At the rate he was going, he thought sourly, he’d have the whole forest split and stacked before his desire for Willa disappeared.
Why couldn’t Willa have been a woman from his world, one who knew the rules and how the game was played? Why couldn’t she have been the kind of woman who could indulge in a casual affair and then walk away with no regrets?
Willa wasn’t that kind of woman. She was a lady—a college professor, for God’s sake. He was the last man she should get involved with. He was too cynical, too wild, too much a loner for a woman like Willa. She needed someone who could give her what she deserved: a home, the picket fence around it, and everything that went inside.
All the things that he couldn’t give her.
Why would she want to get involved with someone like him, someone who dealt in death and destruction? If she knew the real Griffin Fortune, she would run away as fast as she could.
So, they would have to get through this enforced isolation together and hope that Ryan uncovered some information—and quickly. He’d call Ryan tonight, he thought, and let him know that they’d arrived.
And make sure Ryan worked fast.
The fire in the huge fireplace crackled in front of them, radiating heat throughout the room. Griff picked up the poker and stirred the fire again. It didn’t need stirring, but it was better than the alternative, which was watching Willa.
“Tomorrow I’ll figure out how to turn on the heat in the cabin,” he said.
Willa looked up from the book she was reading. “Don’t worry about it. The fireplace keeps the cabin plenty warm. And with any luck, we won’t be here too much longer.”
Her voice was cool and polite, and her eyes were guarded.
When he’d finally gone back into the cabin after chopping the wood, he had found that she’d made lunch. She’d smiled at him and they’d talked, but her eyes had been wary and her words had been careful.
It was just as well. They’d both be happier in the long run if they ignored the heat that flared between them. Neither of them needed the tension that hummed in the room. And they didn’t need a repeat of that kiss they’d shared.
But her taste, the way she felt, was burned into his mind. It would be a long, long time before he forgot about Willa.
“I’m going to call Ryan tonight, anyway,” he said, looking at the fire again. It was too painful to look at Willa and know she was out of his league. “I’ll ask him about the heat. It was easy enough to turn on the water. I’m sure the heat will be simple, too.”
“Fine,” she said, her tone of voice implying that she didn’t care. “But don’t worry about it because of me.”
“You’re tough, right? You can survive in near-freezing temperatures?”
She looked up at the savage tone of his voice. “It’s not anywhere close to freezing. The temperature in the cabin has been very pleasant.” Her voice was logical and even.
“It’s the middle of December, Willa. We’re in the mountains. It gets cold. It might even snow.” He was taking out his frustration on her, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“If it does, we’ll turn on the heat.” She gave him a calm smile, and added, “Do you need some help splitting the wood? I can do that, too.”
“I do not need help splitting the wood.” He forced himself to speak slowly and distinctly. What he wanted to do was yell at Willa, tell her that there was no way he was risking letting her use an ax.
He jumped up in disgust and stormed to the window. What he really wanted to do was sweep Willa into his arms and savor another taste of her. Only this time it would be more intense, because he knew how quickly she responded. And he knew that she wanted him, too.
The fact that Willa seemed oblivious to the tension and the desire that threatened to spill out was infuriating. But he knew better than to let it provoke him. So he strode over to the counter and picked up the phone. “I’m going to call Ryan and let him know we arrived. He might have some information for us.”
Her eyes became animated for the first time since he’d come back into the cabin. “Maybe the kidnappers have already been caught.”
“Maybe.” He doubted it. They had too little information to work with. “You’ll be glad to get back to College Station, won’t you?”
Her eyes became cool again. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to get back to your own life. You can’t enjoy baby-sitting me.”
She had no idea how much he’d enjoyed taking care of her that afternoon. He scowled at her. “Both of us have things to do, I guess. Let me see if Ryan is around.”
He dialed the private number for Ryan’s office, and his uncle picked up on the first ring. “Fortune here.”
“Ryan, this is Griff. I wanted to let you know that we arrived safely.”
“Good.” He heard the older man take a deep breath. “Lily and I have both been worried sick all day. I’m glad you called.”
“We picked up enough supplies to last awhile, and no one followed us here. So we should be safe. Have you heard anything from College Station?”
“Not a thing.” Griff could practically hear Ryan frown. “I have a team of the best investigators in College Station working on the case, and none of them have been able to come up with even a hint of a lead. There’s no trace of the blue van. Apparently it vanished into thin air. And the management of Willa’s apartment building says they didn’t hire any painters or any carpet layers. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in that building when she arrived home.”
“So they were waiting specifically for her.” Griff felt a coldness squeeze his gut.
“That would be my guess. The only question is why.”
“I’m figuring it has something to do with you. Maybe they thought they could get ransom money out of you. Maybe it’s someone with a grudge. Someone like Cling Lockhart.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. “I’ve thought about that,” Ryan said finally, reluctantly. “And we both know what he’s capable of. Until we catch the culprits, take care of Willa. I think you’ll be safe where you are. Don’t take any chances with her. Or yourself.”
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s why I’m not worrying.”
Griff asked a few more questions about the cabin, and received instructions for turning on the heat and several other maintenance problems. He finally asked if he wanted to talk to Willa.
“Just give her my love,” Ryan said.
Reassured that Ryan was taking the threat seriously, Griff said goodbye, telling Ryan he’d talk to him again soon.
When he walked back into the main room, Willa watched him with wary eyes. “What did Ryan have to say?” she asked.
“They haven’t found anything. Not a trace of the van, not a trace of the housepainters. According to the management of your building, there were no painters or carpet layers scheduled to work that day.”
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