Chapter Four Print this Page A couple hours later, Megan stirred, feeling the solid warmth of a man

against her. A second later, comprehension gelled and she jerked away, scrambling back on her behind. "Its okay, its just me," Rick said, her wide-eyed fear softening to wariness. "Dont touch me." Rick leaned on the pack, his arms folded across his chest. "Youre the one crawling onto my lap, princess." Her face flamed and she rubbed her fist under her nose. "People cant be held accountable for what they do in their sleep. Its the subconscious at work." "So subconsciously you wanted to be clinging to me like a vine?" A really luscious vine, but Rick knew better. Hed heard the whimpers, the pleas for water and rest to her captors. He didnt doubt theyd kept her awake for days. It was a tactic to wear her down, though she had nothing to do with her release. It had been in her fathers hands and hed tried to move mountains. "No, I did not. For pitys sake, stop reading into every little thing." She started putting on her boots. "You sound like a jilted lover." "We never quite got to that stage, did we, Irish?" Irish. The old endearment stung and hot piercing eyes glared at him through a curtain of tangled red hair. "Go to hell, Callahan." "Been there, got the scars to prove it." "Want to compare a few? Youre the one who disappeared." "I got fired, Meg." He stood, gathering his things. "And you let that stop you?" "Your father has a way of making a lasting impression." "What did he do?" Righteous fury lit her pretty face. "Nothing that I couldnt handle." "Im sure." Meg could only imagine what her father had done. Money meant power and her father had plenty of both. "I didnt know, Rick." He looked down at her as she yanked on her laces. "So you thought I just played house with the bosss daughter, let her get shot, then left without another thought?" "Didnt you?" He withdrew his weapon and peered between the ferns and vines. "Well, didnt you?" she persisted and when he didnt respond, she yanked him around to face her. "Of course I thought of you. You were wounded because of me."

"I was alive because of you. You took the bullet." "And you wouldnt have been hurt at all if Id been doing my job instead of getting you naked." A smile tugged. "You were doing a fine job of that, too, as I recall." Rick ground his teeth, fighting the steamy memory clouding his brain. They flooded in just the same, like they did every time he thought of her. "Forget it. It doesnt matter anyway. I broke a rule, paid the price, end of story." It wasnt over or they wouldnt both be feeling like this, she thought, staring up at him. "We both paid, and you werent exactly alone in that rule breaking." Rick winced, knowing she probably caught holy hell for being with her bodyguard. "My job was based on my reputation and I lost it," he said, then stepped onto the path, motioning her to remain there. And because of that, she thought, she lost Rick. As Rick retrieved his sensors and traps, the truth bit him again. He hadnt been worried about himself. Taking a bullet for her had been his duty, his job. But getting fired from the cushiest gig on the planet because it happened while they were in bed, and hed been too hot for her to hear the intruders was disgraceful. Top that with the bullet grazing her, and hed failed even more. Her father had been furious that his daughter actually wanted a man like him, but what happened to Meg afterward was a mystery. Hed spent a small fortune hunting her down, only to get close, and then shed disappear again. After the third try, hed given up, figuring she didnt want to be found. What if she had wanted him to find her? he wondered as he returned. She was pacing the small confines. "Lets go." "We need to talk," she said, meeting his gaze. "Not now." He ushered her toward the second exit hed made. She could feel Rick close behind, and when the thicket was too dense, he handed her the machete and told her to start hacking. She didnt know where they were going, but chopping through huge leaves and brush made her feel as if she had some control in a day that was twisting wildly in the wind. She was drenched with sweat in seconds. Anger at her father manifested, and at Rick for bending to the ornery Irishman, though in her heart, she knew if Rick wanted, he took, regardless of the consequences. She supposed she wasnt worth it, unless, of course, it came with a hefty payoff. Rick glanced behind himself, walking backward a pace, then focusing ahead as Meg slashed through the heavy jungle. When she stumbled for the third time, he knew shed expended her energy. He tried not to care, but he did. She was doing better than he ever expected. And he was proud as hell of her. "Let me have that." Rick reached for the machete. She gave it up, flexing her fingers and Rick saw the blisters there. He grabbed her hand, examining the wounds. God, she was a mess. "Dammit, why didnt you say something?" "The manicurist was off, so why bother?" she said dully and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"I have gloves. I should have given them God, I wasnt thinking." "Was that an actual apology?" "Do you actually need one?" His lips curved and from his pack he took out the canteen, and poured water over the blisters. She hissed and tried to pull away, but he held tight, blowing on the wounds. "Ill take care of this when were far enough away." He wrapped her palm with a green military bandage, taking great care and time they didnt have. "What did they do to you, Meg?" he asked softly, suddenly. His tone was so genuinely tender, it made her heart drop a beat, and she tried to look under his bent head. Why was he asking? "Does it matter?" "It does to me." He sounded almost frightened at what shed say. "They blindfolded and starved me, kept me awake for the first five or six days." She shrugged. "I lost count." "Did they do anything else?" She knew what he was asking, and the tension in him had a taste all its own. Come back next Tuesday for Chapter Five of eight.