Part 16 (1/2)

So gentle, she thought. She had never forgotten how he had touched her that night, those big, strong hands moving with slow, sensuous intent over her body. The thought must have been reflected in her eyes because, despite the situation, despite the fact that she knew he hadn't been trying to seduce her when he had touched her, his hand hesitated.

His eyes changed, probably reacting to what was clearly in hers. And then his palms were framing her face, lifting it to his. His mouth began to lower and she felt her own open. Inviting. Welcoming. This was right. It didn't feel wrong in any way. Not even out of place. Even with Mandy in danger, it was fight that Chase was holding her. That they were holding one another.

He was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath, could almost taste the sweetness of his mouth.

Never forgotten. The memories had never been lost in spite of the years, the bitterness, the regret. Once more she was in Chase McCullar's arms, exactly where she wanted to be, watching his mouth lower to fasten over hers.

”Forgive me, Miss Kincaid. I seem to be interrupting something very private, but I had thought you came here to see me.”

At the first syllable of Spanish, even while her own mind was lost in the seductive gentleness of his touch, Chase had shoved her behind him, his right hand automatically finding the grip of the gun. Almost before she realized what was happening, he had placed his body between hers and the mustached man who stood at the end of the narrow street.

Instead of staying where he'd put her, Samantha leaned far enough to the side that she could look around Chase's shoulder. She had thought she recognized the voice, and the hope that recognition engendered overrode any consideration for her own safety.

”It's him,” she said to Chase. Even in the fading light she could see well enough to make the identification.

”It's the man who took Mandy.”

”Are you sure?” Chase asked. Together they watched too

Kansom My Heart him walk toward them, unintimidated by the weapon Chase held trained on his midsection.

”It's him,” she said again.

”I'm sure.”

There was no one else. Only this one man, still moving down the street

toward them. It was so quiet that they could hear the sound of his boot heels striking against the hard-packed earth of the street.

”Why don't you stop right there, and we'll talk,” Chase suggested.

The man smiled. The dark mustache that drooped around the corners of his mouth moved with the motion.

”Amanda's father,” he said. It hadn't been phrased as a question, and Samantha felt sickness chum in her stomach at the sudden realization of what was about to happen.

”Mr. Kincaid hired me {of bring the ransom down here,” Chase said.

”And to escort Amanda's mother. To deal with the details for her. To deal with you.” The dark eyes studied Chase's features, and then they moved to Samantha. She had no idea what her expression might reveal, but she tried to keep her emotions from being reflected in her face. She met his eyes with a silent entreaty.

Sam had warned her this would happen.

Not like this, she found herself praying, Not in this way.

Please don't let Chase learn the truth from this man.

Finally his gaze came back to Chase.

”I think mine was a natural mistake, considering the.. circ.u.mstances.

But I'm confused as to why Miss Kincaid thinks she needs someone to deal with me.” He looked at Samantha again and said calmly, ”You have the money. I have the child. I fail to see what we need to talk about.”

”The baby's here?” Chase asked.Samantha held her breath, waiting.”Nearby,” the man with the mustache said simply. His eyes were still on hers, and she thought she could read the natural question in them.Or maybe that was just her guilt.”You did bring the ransom, Miss Kincaid?” he asked.That was the vital question, of course. One she wasn't supposed to answer. That was Chase's job, and even as she thought it, he spoke.

”We brought half a million dollars.

It's all Mr. Kincaid could manage in the time you gave him.”

The dark eyes moved back to focus on Chase's face, a.s.sessing him as the old man's had done.

”That's why you were late?” he asked.

”Because there was some trouble getting the money together?” There was silence for a heartbeat, and through it the man's gaze remained steady on Chase's face.

”We're late because somebody ambushed us,” Chase admitted.

”Somebody tried to kill us.”

”An attempt to relieve you of what you were carrying,” the kidnapper said, seeming to dismiss the attack as unimportant.

”Is that the money?” he asked, pointing to the single suitcase on the ground beside their feet.

”Half a million dollars. A h.e.l.l of a lot of money,” Chase remindedhim, ”which will buy a lot of things. Whatever you want. Whatever youneed.”

”But still, it's only half of what I told you to bring, Miss Kincaid.