BRANDED BY A CALLAHAN Read online

  Thing was, without the sniper on the roof of the compound, they were pretty much without cover. Someone had known the sniper was there—and had taken him out with enough tranquilizer to give an elephant a bit of a Rip van Winkler. Dante went into his room, his thoughts in a snarl, trying to make sense of the whole thing—but his brain stopped cold when he flipped on the light and saw the gorgeous blonde in his bed. Sound asleep, looking like an angel.

  Holy smokes, what was he supposed to do with this?

  He turned the overhead light off. Pondered his next move. Clearly Ana hadn’t wanted to sleep in the main house. Did she have the night off? He supposed she must have. After one black martini with a floating eyeball in it, was he relaxed enough to take advantage of the heavenly gift in his bed?

  Absolutely not.

  Dante felt like he was sneaking around in his own room. Maybe she’d been scared, and didn’t want to be alone.

  Nah. Ana hadn’t been the least bit intimidated.

  Maybe he should just turn around, walk back through the door, forget what he’d seen. Pretend he’d felt better sleeping in the main house tonight—

  The lamp beside the bed turned on, and Dante’s throat went dry as an old bone in the desert. Ana looked at him, her gaze curious.

  “Hi, cowboy.”

  Long blond hair draped silkily over one shoulder. She hadn’t changed out of her purple scrubs, but the cork sandals lay on the floor beside her.

  Okay, gifts this good didn’t just drop into his life. There was a trap, he just couldn’t see it. His concentration was shot, and any warning system he’d ever possessed that normally blared caution in a danger zone had surrendered. “Howdy, nurse,” he finally said, trying to play it cool. “I do believe you’re in the wrong bed.”

  “Maybe,” Ana said. “But I hope not.”

  He couldn’t mistake the soft invitation, nor the smoke in those emerald eyes. The lady was offering, and all he had to do was get rid of the barbed wire fence Ash claimed he was hiding behind. “All right,” he said, his voice husky, his throat a bit stiff for some reason. “You tell me what you want, lady, and I’ll see if I can accommodate you.”

  Safe enough. Let her state her mission—maybe she was only scared, after all—and he’d see if he could help her out.

  She turned out the lamp. He heard sheets rustle, and the next thing he knew she was moving into his arms. Her lips found his, and it was everything Dante had ever imagined kissing Ana would be like: soft, sweet, powerful.

  He didn’t ask any questions. He hung on like he’d hung on to Firefreak, praying he didn’t hit the ground too soon.

  “I’m going to get a little more comfortable,” she said, moving out of his arms, “maybe you will, too.”

  She went into the bathroom, closed the door behind her. His heart thundered like mad, a haze practically shutting down his brain. After all the months of longing, he was going to find himself holding the most beautiful woman in the world.

  He pulled off his boots, kept his jeans and shirt on just in case the invitation got jerked away from him at the last minute. Waited in the dark, his body taut with anticipation.

  The bathroom door opened, and he heard soft footsteps approach the bed. It was too dark for him to get the full effect, but maybe she was shy about him seeing her in the dark. Wouldn’t matter. He’d run his lips over every inch of that long, slinky body, and he’d have no problem whatsoever seeing everything he wanted to with his hands.

  Something soft brushed his face, molded over his nose and mouth with a strange scent—but by then it was too late for Dante to react, even as his last thought was that the world’s most beautiful angel had just played him like the queen of hearts.

  Chapter Three

  Bumps and jolts jarred Dante painfully awake. Opening his eyes, he stared at a dark sky overhead, felt the cold of a truck bed beneath him as it trundled over ruts on what was obviously a country road. His hands and ankles seemed bound together—make that were bound. His boots lay near his head, confirming that he’d been hijacked.

  Last night’s sudden and sweet seduction had been nothing but a sham. Ana St. John was a spy, a double-crosser in the first degree. He could see it all clearly now: she’d been working with whoever had taken out the sniper, and she’d followed Dante to the front door to pretend to save him Halloween night, throwing off suspicion.

  All the while she’d been planning his downfall with a body made to stun. Like Samson cut down by Delilah, Dante had allowed Ana to blind him to common sense.

  Love did indeed stink to high heaven.

  A particularly vicious rut sent him bouncing skyward, and something moaned—not him. Glancing across the truck bed, he saw Ana in pretty much the same condition as he, only she had on less clothes to keep out the November chill. She, too, was bound, still wearing her scrubs, though the cork sandals didn’t appear to have made the trip.

  Dante was cheered by her presence, but he also felt like a louse. Being happy when one’s object of desire was trussed up like a chicken, obviously being kidnapped along with him, was the mark of a truly pathetically gone heart.

  He was so relieved Ana hadn’t played him. He would have felt like a bigger putz than all his brothers combined.

  Ana opened her eyes, glanced around in rather shocked fashion, as he had, then saw him smiling at her. “Fancy meeting you here, cupcake.”

  She blinked, looked annoyed. “This was not supposed to happen!”

  “Yeah, well. Just an adventure to tell the grandkids, I guess.” He kept his tone soothing and light so she wouldn’t panic. Females were so delicate, and it was his job to comfort the gentler species, especially this darling one. He frowned. “Wait, what wasn’t supposed to happen?”

  “I’ve never been jumped.” Ana glanced around the truck bed. “No one has ever been able to catch me off guard, and that’s a record I was extremely proud of. Who took us?”

  “We’ll know soon enough.”

  “Where are we?”

  “My guess? Far from home. The air’s got a trace of petroleum. Definitely a chemical. I’m guessing somewhere around Houston.”

  “Or Louisiana.”

  It would stand to reason. They’d clearly been on the road a long time because his body was screaming from all the jags and bumps. He needed to hit a rest stop in the worst way. “They must have grabbed you in the lavatory, because I never saw you come out. And I would definitely have remembered.”

  “First bad mark on my record.” Pure annoyance crossed her face. “I didn’t check the bath when I snuck in, and I should have.”

  “Rule number one in the bodyguard manual broken,” he said cheerfully. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” He didn’t care, because she freely admitted sneaking into his room, and from that, he could deduce that this beautiful woman dug her some Callahan cowboy.

  “I failed to protect you,” Ana said.

  “Oh, I won’t hold it against you,” Dante said, thinking he was fine with role reversal. He was the man, he was supposed to be doing the protecting, and moreover, they’d only grabbed her because of him—she was a collateral situation. None of this would be happening right now if he weren’t a Callahan, which left very little blame to be parked at her door. “Anyway, I’m the man, I’m supposed to protect the fairer sex.”

  “Are we going to debate sexual roles or figure out how to get out of this mess?”

  He liked the idea of debating sexual anything with Ana, but he supposed her question was relevant. But then he had a horrible thought: his grandfather, Chief Running Bear, had muttered something about one of the seven Chacon Callahans being the hunted one. Running Bear had intoned the warning with such fierce knowledge, and Dante had always figured it couldn’t possibly be him.

  But what if he was the one of which Running Bear warned? Any last vestige of
grogginess from whatever they’d used to dope him disappeared, and his focus returned, laserlike.

  “What?” Ana said. “You look like you want to kill something.”

  He wasn’t going to worry about it now. If he was the hunted one, he’d get unhunted fast. Darkness had fallen, blanketing the truck’s path. His body felt like a yo-yo from the pounding bumps in the road, and Ana couldn’t be in any better shape. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Following you, cowboy.”

  She was a sparky little thing, he’d grant her that. “For what it’s worth, I appreciated finding you in my bed. Hope you don’t let this experience scare you from trying again.”

  Ana gave him a wry look. “Not at all,” she said sweetly. “I’ve picked you to be the father of my child.”

  A hard jolt sent them both rolling, and covered the yelp Dante might have let go upon hearing Ana’s pronouncement. “You meant it wasn’t just about my body?”

  “No.” Ana rolled close to him, which he thought was very sweet of her, very sexy. He liked women who were so pointed about their desire. “Undo my hands, please,” Ana told him.

  “Ah.” Romance would have to wait; this little doll was all about business. He backed up to her, grabbed her bound hand with his and worked off the knotted handkerchief. “Free as a bird.”

  Without creating any movement that would alert their kidnappers, she untied her feet. “Blast, they didn’t bring my shoes. That’s men for you. They never consider the important stuff.”

  “They brought my boots,” Dante said, a bit relieved by that. He could carry Ana on his back if he had to.

  “I may borrow those boots, cowboy.”

  He looked at her. “Oh, no, you don’t, cupcake. If you think for one second that you’re going to take my boots and leave me stranded here with a couple of jokers, you will never get what you came for last night.”

  She reached for a boot, looked him in the eye. “You may not be able to give me a child. It’s a calculated risk.”

  There was absolutely nothing he’d rather do than give impregnating this sweet angel the old college try. “I offer my family tree as Exhibit A. You’re the nanny, you should know that Callahans are prodigious baby makers.”

  She considered that. “True. Yet I find it highly suspicious that you’re not running. Men are supposed to run when a woman tells them they want a child.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not a normal guy.”

  “This, I’ve heard.”

  She undid his hands, which he’d expected, since it was obvious she did indeed want to test his pregnancy prowess. He smirked, trying to look like a man who had full confidence that a baby bingo was as easy as snapping the fingers. “What’s the big hurry on getting pregnant? You have a biological clock going off?”

  Ana barely gave him a glance. “You focus on the mission, which is saving us. Let me worry about my reasons.” She hesitated. “How do I know you’ll keep your promise?”

  He kissed her briefly, just a soft brush of promised pleasure against her lips. “Because, beautiful, I guarantee satisfaction.”

  She finished undoing him and his hands came free. He grabbed her, pulling her lips to his, cradling her head in his hands so that he could kiss her as thoroughly as he’d ever wanted to. “Consider that a down payment.”

  “I do. I promise to make your life miserable if you try to back out of our deal. Remember, I could have taken your boots and left you here.”

  “I’d hate for you to live with those regrets. One day you’ll thank your lucky stars I kept you, despite the fact that you’ll be a drag on the mission.” He pulled on his boots, watching her. She was a spicy girl for sure, and one day, he was going to dive in and enjoy the fire. “Now hang on, this is where it gets rough, gorgeous.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, held her tight.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Watch and learn. Focus,” he whispered in her ear. “The truck has slowed. We’re no longer on the main road, we’re obviously getting closer to the destination. They’ve slowed, looking for a meeting point. The road isn’t hard and rocky anymore, feels more like sand. Perfect.”

  “Perfect for what?”

  “Finding out what little girls are made of. I always heard it was sugar and spice, but let’s hope you’re more spice than sugar.”

  He flipped her over the edge of the truck, still holding her tight. They landed with a thud in a not-so-soft patch of dried sand liberally laced with grit. To Ana’s credit she didn’t make a peep, and Dante held his breath, praying that the truck kept on its slow way to its destination.

  It did. “Let’s go. We have about five minutes, maybe less, before they discover we flew the coop.”

  “Head away from the road,” Ana said, and Dante thought, Yeah, I had a feeling she was spice, and they ran until they crossed a smaller road that was more of a dirt-bike path.

  They stopped, and Dante plotted his bearings. “Due north,” he said, pointing. “Heading to the west gets us back home.”

  “How do you know they didn’t take us west?”

  “I was watching the sky. The North star always guides us.”

  “I must have missed that lesson.” Ana took off her shirt, tore it in half, bound up her feet for protection. “What are you staring at? It’s a sports bra.”

  He was staring because being this close to heaven might just kill him. Sports bra or not, she was a tantalizing twist and slope of delicate curves and just-right softness. Tiny little waist. Athletic body. He swallowed, tore his eyes away with effort. A huge effort.

  Dante cleared his throat even though it felt as if it was suddenly made of industrial rubber. “You ran pretty dang fast for a girl who was barefoot. I’m sorry.” There’d probably been burrs or sticker grass in the sand loam road.

  “Sorry for what?” Ana glared at him. “I can take care of myself. I can take care of you, too.”

  He smiled. “You are the most precious little thing I’ve ever come across.”

  “And you may be the biggest donkey I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Her glare deepened. “Has it ever occurred to you that not every female is just waiting for you to bring your big muscles and your annoying chauvinism to rescue her?”

  A grin split his face. “You like my big muscles?”

  “Yes, I do. Can we discuss your manliness another time?”

  “It’s never a bad time to discuss that,” Dante said, and they began walking toward the west, staying well out of sight of the main road. “Because I was thinking,” Dante said, “if you like the muscles you can see, I’ve got some others that may—”

  “Save it for later,” Ana said. “I don’t want you to blow a fuse.”

  “Pretty sure my fuses are fine.” He was enormously pleased with the turn of events. Ana was awesome, just like he’d always suspected, and the best part was that the woman of his dreams wanted to have his baby.

  It couldn’t be denied that he was catnip to the sweet thing. “I’m going to take good care of you, Ana.”

  “Keep talking, and you’ll probably find yourself in trouble,” she said sweetly, and he said, “I like trouble. Trouble is a good friend of mine,” before taking her hand in his as they hurried to make their escape.

  * * *

  THEY FOUND A SMALL, run-down motel in a one-horse town that didn’t look as if it ever had much traffic. They were still in Texas, but hundreds of miles east of Hell’s Colony. The owner was friendly and offered them breakfast in the morning if they were willing to get up early. “I like to start my knitting at eight, and once I start, I don’t like to stop,” she said with a genuinely friendly smile. “If I’m on my quilting, I definitely don’t quit.”

  Ana looked at Dante, figuring he’d go for the breakfast over sleep. He shrugged at her, so she said, “I think we’ll be go
ne by eight, Mrs. Adams. But thank you.”

  “I’ll put together a couple of sack breakfasts, then.” She waved them to a room upstairs and told them to sleep comfortably and not to mind any rattling they might hear. “It’s just the air conditioner,” she said helpfully, and Ana closed their bedroom door with a little relief.

  “I thought she was going to say she had a ghost,” Ana said. “These small towns always have a ghost, don’t they?”

  She pulled off the new moccasins Dante had bought her in a small outpost trading store. They were soft and comfortable, but they weren’t as cute as her cork sandals.

  “What have you got against ghosts?” Dante asked, lounging on the bed, hands behind his head. “Rancho Diablo’s got ghosts.”

  “So I hear.” She didn’t believe it. Every once in a while Fiona got wound up about the ghosts and spirits that hung around the ranch, and Ana just listened to the tales, not about to give credence to one thing Fiona said. “I’m going to shower.”

  “Ladies first.” He grinned, a sexy devil, and Ana wondered why he didn’t seem more concerned about the fact that she had her eyes on him for a baby.

  “While I’m in here, you can ask that nice Mrs. Adams if you could use the phone,” she suggested.

  “For what?”

  “To call home, E.T.” She sighed. “Dante, we don’t want to walk all the way back to Hell’s Colony.”

  “Oh. That.” He shrugged. “I’ve got my mobile in my pocket.”

  She blinked. “Is there a reason we’ve been walking for miles and you haven’t called for a pickup?”

  “I like your company, sugar.”

  He was so aggravating that Ana wondered for a split second if she’d chosen the right man to give her a child.

  Lord, yes. She had no second thoughts about that. She’d waited over a year to cross her professional boundaries and finally succumb to the die-hard attraction she had for this man. “I like yours, too, Dante,” she said, trying to hang on to her temper. “But I think we’d like each other’s company so much better if we weren’t running from goons.”