fill his hand with that cool, richly resilient flesh and warm it with his loving.
"Well, darn," she said sedately, and in the glow of the flashlight he saw the welcome in her night-dark eyes.
He inhaled deeply, reaching for control. They had no time for any delay, much less one that would last an hour. An hour? He gave a mental snort. Who was he kidding? He was so worked up that five minutes was more like it, and that was only if his self-control turned out to be a lot stronger than it felt right now.
"Later," he promised, his voice a rough growl of need. Later, when this was settled and his job done. Later, when he could take the time with her that he wanted to take, behind a locked door and with the telephone off the hook. Later, when she felt better, damn it, and wasn’t dealing with a concussion. He figured it would be two days, at least, before her headache was gone—two long, hellish days.
He stopped and looked back. They had gone far enough that he could no longer see the headlights through the trees. A small hollow dipped just ahead, and he led Sole Pleasure into it. The hollow blocked the wind, and tall trees leaning overhead protected him from the light snow. "You’ll be okay here for a couple of hours," he told the horse as he tied the reins to a low, sturdy branch. Pleasure would be able to move around some, and if there were any edible leaves or stray blades of grass, he would be able to graze within a small area.
"Be good," Maris admonished the horse, stroking his forehead. "We won’t be gone long. Then we’ll take you back to your big, comfortable stall, and you can have your favorite feed, and an apple for dessert." He blew softly, then bobbed his head up and down in agreement. She didn’t know how many actual words he understood, but he definitely understood the love in her voice, and he knew she was telling him good stuff.
MacNeil took the flashlight from her hand and settled his arm around her again as they walked back to the truck. Pleasure neighed his disapproval of being left alone, but soon the trees blotted out the sound and there was only the rustle of their feet in the leaves.
"You know what to do," he said. "They won’t follow you too closely on the highway, because they won’t want to make you suspicious. Let them see where you leave the road, but then drive as fast as you can, to give yourself as much time as possible. They’ll be able to follow the tracks. Pull up to the trailer, get out of the truck and get into the trees. Don’t waste time, don’t look back to see what I’m doing. Get into a protected place and stay there until either Dean or I come for you. If anyone else shows up, use that pistol."
"You need the vest more than I do." Worry gnawed at her. He was sending her out of harm’s way, while he would be right in the middle of it, without protection.
"They might pull in before you’re completely out of sight and get a shot off at you. The only way I’ll let you do this is if you’re wearing the vest."
There that stubborn streak was again, she thought. Streak? Ha! He was permeated with it. She was beginning to think that if she scratched his skin, stubbornness would ooze out instead of blood. Living with him was going to be interesting; as he’d noted, she was used to being the boss, and so was he. She looked forward to the fights—and to the making up.
Pearsall was waiting for them when they got back. "Everything’s ready," he said. "There’s a six-hour tape in the camera, and the battery pack is fully charged. Now, if we can just get back into position before the bad guys show up, we’re set."
MacNeil nodded. "You leave first. We’ll let you get out of sight before we follow. Radio if you see anything suspicious."
"Give me an extra minute so I can swing through the motel parking lot to make sure there aren’t any new arrivals. Then I’ll pull back and take up position." Pearsall got into the car and backed out, his headlights bobbing through the
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