Hostage To Thunder Horse

Chapter Two

Kat snuggled closer to the warmth in front of her, nestling her face into the hard, yet smooth surface. Her nose twitched and she slid her hand between her and the warmth-providing pillow, to brush her hair out of her face.

She couldn’t move far with what felt like a tree branch draped across her back, holding her close and adding to the warmth. What was keeping her from moving? She opened her eyes to discover the source of her imprisonment.

Darkness so intense she couldn’t see a scrap of light made her close her eyes and open them again. Was she dead? Panic shot through her like a lightning bolt. Had she gone blind? She shoved against the hard surface beneath her hands. The band around her waist shifted, tightening.

She pushed up on her hands, straining against the band. “Help.” Her voice echoed as if in one of the large cathedrals of her homeland. “Where am I?” She fought to contain her terror. She had managed to stay alive based on sheer tenacity and by relying on her intelligence for the past two days. She couldn’t give up now. But why was it so incredibly dark? Where was she?

“Shh.” A deep baritone rumbled in the darkness, the surface beneath her hands vibrating. Then she was rolled to her side. She recognized the band around her middle now as an arm as thick as a small tree trunk.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. Had he caught up with her? Was she his prisoner? “Who are you? Where am I? Am I blind?” Her hip brushed against what could only be a man’s… “Oh my god, you’re not wearing any clothes!” She pounded against his chest, her feet banging against his shins.

“Slow down.” The voice rumbled again, bouncing off the walls of the room they were in. “I’m not going to rape you, woman. Let me turn on the light.”

With his one arm still holding her around her middle, he reached above his head. Cold air slipped across her skin, sending wave after wave of chills over Katya. She shook so hard her teeth rattled against each other.

Metal clinked against stone, then a click, and light bounced off what looked like rock walls.

Relief filled her as her eyes adjusted to the muted lighting. She wasn’t blind. Light beamed across the room, dispelling the terrifying darkness. Then as quickly as the relief filled her it fled. She couldn’t move, trapped against the man’s chest and cocooned in a bag. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she fought it, taking deep, steadying breaths.

The man’s other arm slipped back into the interior of the bag, pulling the gap closed, blocking the chilled air from leaking inside.

Despite her terror at being held captive, she didn’t want to die of exposure. Until she learned more about the man she lay next to, she’d do well to appreciate the warmth and gather her strength if she had to fight for her life.

“How do you feel?” the man asked.

“Cold. Incredibly cold. And frankly, a little scared.”

“You should be scared, but not of me. You almost died of exposure. You’ll probably feel cold for a long time.”

Her teeth chattered as she tried to form questions. “What happened? Why are we in this bag together?”

“I found you under a snowdrift by the river and brought you here to warm you. I only had one bag, so you had to share with me.”

Her face burned. She stared around at the rock walls surrounding her. “Where are we?”

“In a cave.”

“In what country?”

The man frowned. “The U.S., of course.” No of course about it. She’d been racing across the country for two days, never on a straight route, always varying her direction, hoping to shake the man following her. If the man currently holding her captive was one of the people after her, they could be practically anywhere. She took a deep breath before asking her next questions. “Who are you? Who do you work for?”

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “You’ve been asking all the questions. It’s my turn. Who are you?” His deep, resonant voice filled the inside of the cave with its ruggedness.

Katya hesitated. His avoidance of her question didn’t set her mind at ease. She didn’t know who she was dealing with and trusted no one with her identity. Especially after what had happened in Minneapolis. She’d been on the road ever since, until she’d been forced to ditch her car and steal a snowmobile. “Am I still in the Badlands?”

“Yes, ma’am. The Badlands of North Dakota, to be exact.”

“My name is Kat,” she said tentatively. At least she wasn’t lying. Kat was only part of her name, but people she’d gone to school with in Minneapolis had used it as her nickname. “Kat Evans.” Evans was an out-and-out lie. Hard lessons had taught her not to give out truth until she knew where she stood. Especially with the colossal accusation of terrorism hanging over her. Homeland Security, Customs and Border Protection, the FBI and every law enforcement agency would be on the lookout for her.

She squirmed against his body, extremely aware of her bare skin rubbing against his bare skin. He was completely naked and she was practically naked herself, except for her bra and panties. “Oh, my!” She tried to scoot away from him, hampered by the close confines of the bag they both occupied. A waft of icy air scraped across her body and she found herself pressing against his skin to re-create the warmth she’d felt a moment before.

“Sorry. You weren’t awake for me to ask permission. In these temps, skin to skin is best to bring up body temperature the fastest. Yours was bordering on death.”

After straining for a minute to keep from leaning into his chest, she gave up and let her cheek rest against the hard muscles of his smooth chest. “Well, then, I guess I should thank you for saving my life.”

He chuckled. “Please, don’t strain yourself with your gratitude.”

With nowhere else to put her hands, she rested them against his chest, her fingers smoothing over the hard planes, liking his laughter and the contours of his muscles way too much. “Point made. I am grateful you did not leave me out there to die.” She settled into the warmth of his arms, awkward about their nakedness, but too cold to climb out of the bag.

“You’re welcome.” He rested his chin on the top of her hair, a position both comforting and intimate. “Nothing like waking up in the dark with a stranger, huh?”

“Precisely.”

“What were you doing out by the river on foot?”

She swallowed, hating that she had to lie to the man who’d saved her from freezing to death, but she had no other choice. “I was out snowmobiling and my snowmobile broke down.”

The man stiffened. “What about the others in your party? Most tours stick together.”

“I got separated. I drove around for a couple hours…trying to find them. That is when my machine quit on me.” Her words came out in a rush as the lie grew bigger. What if he didn’t believe her? What if he was the man who’d been after her and he was just fishing for more information? She couldn’t let on that she was Katya Ivanov, just in case he really didn’t know. Surely the entire United States had been alerted to a possible terrorist at large.

“I didn’t see a snowmobile.” His voice had hardened, as though he didn’t really believe or trust her.

“I followed the river to see if I could find help. I suppose the snowmobile is a mile or so downstream from where you found me.” She had hoped to hide it among the boulders, but had to abandon the heavy machine where it had come to a grinding and permanent halt, in order to save herself from a shooter’s aim.

“The closest town to us is Medora and I don’t recall anyone there offering snowmobile tours.”

“It was a special tour out of…” she grasped for the name of a larger town in North Dakota. “Bismarck!” she said in a rush. How much bigger could the lie grow? And would she be able to remember all the details?

“Still, most tours wouldn’t leave a rider behind.”

“I am sure the weather cut them short on searching for me. I will bet they notified the authorities as soon as they got back. Assuming they did not get stranded too.” Kat couldn’t look into his eyes. Lying didn’t come naturally to her, one reason she could never be a good politician. The question was: Did this man believe any of the lies she had just dished out?

“So really, who are you?” he asked, answering her question. “Kat Evans isn’t right. You speak English too proper to have been born in America, and I detect an accent.”

She stiffened against him. Like it or not, she couldn’t tell him the truth. Not until she unraveled the mess her life had become. “I am from…Russia. And as long as we’re stuck in this bag, can we leave it at Kat Evans?”

“Why? Are you wanted for murder or peddling drugs to children?”

“No. Nothing like that. I would just rather not talk about it.”

“Running from an abusive husband? In which case, I’d offer a separate sleeping bag, but I don’t have one.”

“No. No husband.” She stared across the cave’s interior, wishing he would stop asking. “Is that a horse over there?”

“Consider him our chaperone. Bear is very good at keeping secrets. The stories he could tell, but won’t, would shock you.”

Katya laughed, although a little breathlessly. “I feel much safer, knowing he is here guarding my virtue.” And he gave her a good diversion from the stranger’s questions and naked body.

“Damn right.” The man nodded toward Bear. “Don’t tell her about the mare you stole from that stallion, boy. She wouldn’t understand.”

“I get it. You are trying to make me relax.”

“You’re brilliant as well as beautiful.” His hand brushed against her hip. “Is it working?”

Katya’s breath caught in her throat. The way his work-roughened fingers slid across her tender skin, aroused new sensations, making her body more alert, more sensitized to his nearness. “Somewhat,” she lied, again. “I have never lain naked with a stranger before.”

“That makes two of us. I usually get to know the women I sleep with before we climb into a sleeping bag together.” His voice lost all hint of humor. “Short of freezing to death in a blizzard, we didn’t have much choice.”

A shiver wracked her body and she pressed closer to him, absorbing his warmth, her skin tingling everywhere it touched his. “Good choice.” She inhaled the earthy scent of leather and male, noting the smoothness of his chest, not a hair on it. His nearness sparked a charge of electric current in her that made her want to explore more of his incredibly sexy body.

When was the last time she’d felt this drawn to a man? Never. The closest she had come was when she had been in lust with a politician’s son back when she was nineteen. A time when all was right with her world and her country.

With her future a black hole of uncertainty and danger, how could she be this attracted to a stranger?

In the rock-solid confines of the cave, with the warm glow of a flashlight chasing away the severe darkness, Katya felt safe for the first time since she’d been on the run. Safe enough to think of something or someone other than simple survival.

With her body heating rapidly, Katya fought for something to break the tension and silence. “Is the weather still bad outside?”

“Listen…” He held his breath and cocked his head to one side. “Wankatanka, the Great Spirit, is angry.”

Katya listened, concentrating on the silence. At first she heard nothing, then a thin, lonely wail whistled through the cavern, carried on a blast of frigid air that had found its way into their cocoon. Katya tugged at the edges of the bag, pulling it tighter around her shoulders, her face pressing close to the man’s chest. “I suppose it’s still bad out there.” She snuggled closer, the lonely sound of the wind emphasizing the chill still present in her body. His warmth enveloped her and made her feel safe and nervous at the same time. “You still haven’t told me your name.”

“Maddox.” His hand spread across her hip, his arm tightening, drawing her closer to his heat. “Maddox Thunder Horse. You’re trespassing on the Thunder Horse Ranch.”

“Maddox.” She tipped her head up to stare into eyes as black as the cave when it had been the darkest. “Pleasure to meet you. Please accept my sincere apologies for the trespass.” Her lips curled upward on the corners. “Thunder Horse is a different kind of last name.”

“I’m a member of the Lakota Nation. My father’s people were known for their strong horses.”

“You are a Native American? Is the ranch on a reservation?”

“No, my father’s father purchased the ranch from a retiring rancher fifty years ago. Since then, the Thunder Horses have added to the acreage.”

As he spoke, his hand smoothed back and forth over her hip, climbing up to her waist and back to her hip, cupping her bottom.

The more he touched her, the hotter she got, her breath coming in short gasps as if she could not quite catch it. With nothing but her bra and panties between her and the large man holding her in his arms, all manner of wicked thoughts filled Katya’s head. Her father would be appalled. “Do you have to do that?”

“What?”

“What you are doing with your hand?”

He jerked his hand away. “I was warming the cold skin. But if you’re warm already, I can stop.”

Immediately, Katya regretted saying anything. The heat his hand generated warmed her in many more ways than she could have imagined. “No, it felt nice. And I am very cold.” And alone.

She could hear the echoes of her father preaching to her. Someone of her breeding should never find herself alone and naked with a man not her husband.

Sadness gripped her anew. The father who had driven her crazy with his archaic ideas of decorum could no longer dictate her life. Nor could he hold her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. Boris Ivanov had been murdered two weeks ago, his limousine ambushed by a lone shooter taking him out in a single shot. The news reported his death as an automobile crash. Katya’s inside sources told her otherwise.

A tear slid from the corner of her eye and dropped to the smooth skin of Maddox’s chest.

He looked down at her, a frown drawing black brows together. His arm settled around her, his hand resting on her hip, his feet touching hers in the bottom of the bag. “What’s wrong? Are you in any pain?”

He rubbed his foot along her calf, the warmth helping dispel the chill of her father’s death. She shook her head. “No.”

“I checked you over for frostbite. You looked okay a few hours ago.”

She sniffed, disturbed in a very visceral, but not unpleasant way at the thought of Maddox inspecting her body while she lay semi-comatose. As his foot stroked her calf, she stilled her father’s voice in her head, urging her to draw away. She liked the feel of his feet on her legs and especially his hand on her hip. A little too much for having just met the man. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Then why the tears?”

“No reason.” She sniffed again. “It’s just…” sniff, “my father was mur—died.” Katya sucked in a shaky breath and blew it out, attempting to pull away from the man’s chest to keep from letting more tears drop onto his naked skin. Hadn’t her father taught her better? Never let the public see you express untidy emotion. He had classified tears as unnecessarily messy. “I’m sorry. Ivan—” She bit down hard on her bottom lip and started again, struggling at lying to this man. “Evanses do not cry.”

Maddox pulled her back in the crook of his arm. “I’m sorry about your father. I lost mine not too long ago.”

Katya settled her cheek against his chest again and tilted her head up to study his face.

“I wish I could have said goodbye.”

“Me, too.”

High cheekbones, a rock-hard chin, dark skin and longish black hair gave away his heritage. The man could easily step into the past, hunting buffalo and living off the land. Again, his earthiness reassured her in the confines of the cave. He appeared to be in his element, completely capable of surviving in the harsh environment. Unlike her.

Having been raised surrounded by bodyguards, servants and political dignitaries, she had always relied on her social skills to survive. In the Badlands of North Dakota, social skills were less in demand and more of a hindrance. If she wanted to survive, she had better do as Maddox Thunder Horse said.

“How much longer do you think the storm will last?” she asked.

“Weather in the Badlands has a life of its own.” He tucked the corners of the bag around them more securely. “Rest. At least, it’ll pass time.”

Although tired, Katya didn’t feel even slightly sleepy. “I guess you are correct. Nothing else to do.” Except feel his lovely body against hers. She never would have thought lying with a man could feel so good. With her nerves on edge, she could be awake for a very long time. Awake and aware.

He reached out of the bag toward the flashlight.

Her attention riveted on the light, Katya gulped. “What are you doing?”

“Conserving the batteries.” He flipped the switch, plunging them into the inky blackness of complete and utter darkness. Katya’s sense of sight consisted of the residual glow of the flashlight, fading as darkness settled around her.

Her body shook, her teeth chattering. Her fingers dug into his skin, the sensation of falling into an abyss making her hold on for dear life.

Maddox eased her fingernails out of his hide and laced his fingers with hers. “Don’t tell me…” She could feel his head shaking back and forth over her head. “You’re afraid of the dark.”

“Sorry. It is a curse, something that has plagued me since I was very small.”

“I can turn the light back on, but the batteries will eventually fade, and we might have trouble finding our way back out of the cave.”

“Do not concern yourself about me. I will be fine.” Trying to keep her teeth from chattering, Katya aimed for nonchalance, failing miserably.

Maddox’s other arm tightened around her and he pulled her snugly against him. “Close your eyes and listen.”

“What?”

“Just do as I say.”

Katya squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the cave’s endless darkness. Now it was just her own darkness she had to overcome.

“Let me tell you a story my grandfather, James Thunder Horse, used to tell us as children.” Maddox’s voice hummed off the rocks, creating a warmth of spirit no heater or fire could generate. He spoke of a bear lost in the hills, trying to find his way home. Of a sly fox who led the bear farther away from home and a wise old wolf whose ferocity and courage helped the bear discover those virtues in himself. Ultimately, the bear found his way home, depending on the generosity of the wolf, and the assistance of the stars and the sun.

Katya’s eyes remained closed throughout the story. Instead of relaxing, her body stiffened with increasing desire, each muscle and nerve intensely aware of Maddox, responding to the rhythm of his voice, the vibrations of his chest in a way she could not have imagined in the palace back home. “You have a gift.” A gift possessed by no man she had ever met.

“It helps when you’re lying naked with a stranger.”

Katya could feel the strength in his body, the tautness of his muscles beneath her fingertips. She had never been this intimate with a man. Confined as they were in a cave, miles from everyone. Alone.

Even when she had explored sex with a classmate in the small school she had attended, she had not felt this close, as though their bodies melded into one.

Her hand slid across the hard planes of his chest, memorizing the texture and shape with her mind, imagining what it would feel like to love a man like this. To let him make love to her.

The heat in the sleeping bag intensified and her hand slipped lower. Would he be as hard all over? Her hand followed the ridges of his abdomen, sliding over the indentation of his belly button.

When her fingertips bumped into the steely velvet of his erection, a big hand caught her wrist, holding it in a vise grip.

“Don’t start something you can’t or won’t finish,” he said, his voice strained.

“I have never been with a man in a sleeping bag.”

“Then maybe now’s not the time to start.”

“I must apologize. I cannot seem to help myself. You do something to me.”

“You don’t know me, and I don’t know who you really are.”

“What do you want to know? I am a woman. I am unmarried. I do not have any diseases and I am twenty-seven, old enough to make my own decisions.” Perhaps she said the words to appease his conscience, but more likely the words came out to quiet her father’s voice in her head. Either way, the words were for her more than him, and she recognized them for what they were. Permission to let go.

“Sex between a man and a woman takes two to decide.”

He was right. Playing with Maddox Thunder Horse could be like playing with fire. But she wanted the heat he could provide, both outside and in.

Since her mother’s death when she was only sixteen, she had been the perfect daughter to her father, playing hostess to foreign diplomats, always doing and saying the right things, never stepping outside the bounds of etiquette. “For once in my life I want to make a decision for myself. For me alone. Not for my father. Not for the people around me.” She twisted her fingers around to lace them with his. “I know what I want.” Then another thought sobered her. “Do you not find me attractive?”