Honor Bound(20)

His grim face relaxed into a facsimile of a smile when he recalled the way she had handled the highway patrolman. Why had she done it?

He owed her for that, he supposed.

And after last night, he was no longer sure he could keep to his resolve not to touch her. The hours spent in the Tumbleweed had been pure heaven and pure hell. There had been times, far too many for his peace of mind, when he had wanted the kisses to be real, when he had wanted to part her lips with his tongue and taste her, when he had wanted to open her clothes and touch her.

God, she had felt good lying against him this morning, her breath lightly fanning his chest, her breasts so soft and sweet, her thighs…

Damn! he thought, I've got to let her go.

When he got to the gas station, he would fill up the car, check with her to see that she was all right, then leave a note telling the owners where she could be found. When the police were notified, she would be able to tell them where he had been, but not where he was going. Or rather, not specifically where. They already knew his approximate destination and would be searching anyway. It was only a matter of time.

He only hoped he would accomplish what he had to do before that time ran out. Sighting the town, he sped forward. Now that the decision to leave the woman behind had been made, Greywolf was eager to see it done and be on his way. He would have to take her car, of course, but for a woman like her, cars were probably easy to come by.

He pulled up to the gas pump and got out to put the nozzle into the tank. While it was filling, he added more water to the radiator. Keeping a careful eye on the time, he even washed the windshield and checked the tires. To avoid another sticky situation like the roadblock, he wanted to be well away when the owners of the service station returned.

Finally he went around the corner of the building to the rest room. Reaching over the salvaged steel girder he had pulled in front of the door, he knocked loudly. When there was no response, he called her name.

"Answer me. I know you're in there, Aislinn. This is childish."

He waited, pressing his ear to the door. After several seconds of intent listening, he knew that the room beyond the door was empty.

Apprehension squeezed his vitals like a cold fist. Before he could account for his actions, he shoved the girder out of the way and pulled the door open. He rushed inside, almost hoping that this was a ruse and that she was planning to launch some sort of amateur attack on him.

But he was met with nothing but an empty heat and a revolting stench. He rapidly deduced the meaning of the overturned barrel beneath the open window. When he did, his apprehension turned to black rage.

The little hellcat had gotten out!

Spinning on his heel, he went tearing out the rest room door and around the corner of the building. He dashed into the main room where they had been before, but there was no trace of Aislinn and no evidence that either she or anyone else had been there.

The broken glass of the window still lay undisturbed on the floor. The twenty-dollar bill was still tucked beneath the ashtray. He checked, but the dust on the telephone's receiver hadn't been smudged.

Puzzled, Greywolf crammed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Where could she have gone? And how? Had someone picked her up? He gnawed the inside of his cheek as he paced. Wouldn't she have telephoned someone right away? Wouldn't the authorities have made this their temporary command post while they questioned her and searched for him? It didn't make any sense.

He retraced his steps back to the rest room.

* * *

"Easy, easy, drink slowly or you'll choke."

Aislinn's parched throat thirstily welcomed the trickle of cola being poured into her mouth. She angled herself up, but moaned when a pain went rocketing through her head.

"Lie back," the gentle voice said. "That's enough for now anyway."

Her eyes flickered open. Greywolf was bending over her. His face was dark and inscrutable. Then she realized that the sun must have gone down because everything was dark. Moving her eyes caused her head to throb, but she let them wander far enough afield to determine that she was lying in the back seat of her car. The windows were all opened to let in the desert breeze. Greywolf was hunkered down beside her, wedged between the seats, his hip propped on the seat beside hers.

"Where—"

"About thirty miles from the service station. I've got bandages."

"Bandages?"

"You were moaning in your sleep," he said tersely, as though that explained everything.

Garnering all her strength, she reached up and gripped a handful of his shirt. "Talk to me, damn you. I'm sick of your Indian stoicism. Where am I and why do I need bandages? Did you finally use that knife on me?"

The rebellion had cost her every ounce of reserve energy, and she collapsed back onto the seat. But she didn't release Greywolf from her hostile stare. It was like looking into mirrors, but she kept staring into his eyes until he answered.

"Don't you remember climbing out the window and falling?" he asked.

Her eyes slid closed then. Now she remembered. The fear, the despair, and the hatred for the man who had caused it. Everything came rushing back to her in a tide of bad memories.

"I brought some aspirin for your headache."

She opened her eyes. He was shaking the tablets out of the bottle into the palm of his hand. "Where did you get them?"

"From the store. Can you take them with Coke?"