Melissa Cutler - Seduction Under Fire

A five-foot gap loomed between the house and a shed. Though Camille’s ruse was working, it was still a leap of faith to zip between the buildings in plain sight. If only one man looked in their direction, they were dead. Aaron went first, holding his breath for the three steps it took to make the pass. They followed the path of the compound wall to the end of the shed, which still left them with a solid two car lengths of empty space to reach the entrance gate.

A burly man with a full beard and a rifle was standing inside the locked gate, yelling and gesturing to the men at the explosion site. Aaron knew what needed to be done and said a prayer for forgiveness. He’d never been a particularly religious man, but he was about to murder someone pointblank. At least with the grenade, Aaron didn’t have to watch anyone die. This time, though, he was going to look a man in the eyes and shoot him.

“I got this.” He picked up a rock and threw it against the wall, waiting for the guard to investigate. His heart pounded out of control and his hands were sweaty, but he wiped them on his jeans and manned up. Their lives depended on this and he wasn’t going to act like a sissy by getting all shaky and nervous.

The guard’s shadow gave him away first. His stomach came into view, then his arms and gun. Aaron fired two rounds, one into his head and the other into his chest. Though the sound of the shots was blunted by a silencer, the plunk plunk still echoed between the shed and the compound wall.

Aaron worked hard to ignore the significance of what he’d done as he frisked the dead man for keys, finding them in a pants pocket.

“Anyone onto us?” he asked Camille, who had chanced a look around the corner.

“We’re good. They’re putting out a fire on the roof.”

“Then we keep moving.” He sprinted to the gate with a key in his outstretched hand. Please let this be the right key….

It was not. He jerked the key out of the padlock. His fingers found the next key on the loop and jammed it into the lock. It gave way this time. The chain dropped to the ground and they were through.

Aaron’s and Camille’s feet slipped on the loose gravel, but they maintained their breakneck speed to the lean-to. While he ran, Aaron scanned the half dozen horses. The dark brown steed appeared to be the healthiest of the bunch, with muscular legs that looked ready to fly over the terrain. He skidded to a stop and dropped their cache to the ground.

Camille was right behind him. “Okay, you’re the horse expert. Go for it.”

He hunted through a crate for a saddle, blanket, bridle and harness, and made quick work of readying the horse to ride. The memory of Camille’s struggle to mount their last horse was still fresh in his mind, so he grabbed her around the waist and tossed her up.

She yelped in protest.

Aaron pushed the bag of guns and money onto her lap, then swung up behind her. “If I’m in charge, then we’re doing this my way.”

Camille must have thought better about arguing because she silently lifted herself from the saddle so he could get comfortable, then settled onto his groin as she had the day before. Aaron reached around her, grabbed the reins and spurred the horse into a gallop.

Their destination was east, to the ocean. Once the compound was no longer visible, he slowed the horse, setting a reasonable pace to conserve the animal’s energy in the stifling, midmorning heat.

Aaron loved to ride and had been doing so since he could walk. There weren’t many activities for desert kids like him in a one stoplight town, but he had the State Park at his door-step. His parents took full advantage of that fact and made sure he and his younger sisters could ride and hike like pros.

Miles of desert disappeared behind them. Their steed easily avoided the thick blanket of shrubs and giant cardón cacti, which stood with long, green arms reaching for the sky like an army a thousand strong. Aaron found no signs of human existence, just acres and acres of pristine wilderness.

Camille’s hair was as untamable as the land. It whipped and tickled Aaron like a cruel taunt. Unable to resist, he covetously gathered it in his free hand. He was such a fool to do that. A certifiable idiot. But he did it anyway, burying his nose in the locks before letting them slip through his fingers to blow in the wind.

Camille hadn’t noticed, and while he was relieved, her obliviousness made him greedier. He felt himself harden and hoped she was oblivious to that, too. He gathered her hair again and glimpsed the creamy skin of her neck. His mouth watered at the thought of kissing it, which was even more certifiably idiotic, given that Camille was heavily armed.

At that inopportune moment, their horse lurched and he accidentally tugged her hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to get your hair out of my face,” he replied gruffly.

“Oh, sorry.” She twisted it and stuck it down her shirt. “That’s the best I can do for now.”

That solved the hair problem. Now how was she going to stop the friction of her hips rocking against him or the agonizing heat passing from her body to his?

She relaxed against him, wiggling her backside as she settled. Choking back a groan, he looked heavenward, hoping they’d reach the ocean soon. He needed to get off this horse before he did something he’d spend the rest of his life regretting.

Aaron would never forget his first time meeting Camille at Juliana and Jacob’s engagement party, though not for its pleasantness. Aaron had taken one look at her standing on his parents’ patio and targeted her as his next bedmate.

Like the fool he was around pretty girls, he cranked up his charm wattage, swaggering and openly praising her voluptuous attributes. And there was a lot to praise about Camille’s body. She was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on, with legs that went on for miles, curves custom-made for a man to wrap his hands around and full, pouty lips. Then she opened them and it was all downhill from there.

Apparently, his charm was too much for Camille to handle because the more charismatic he was, the more pungent she became. After that party, they’d seen enough of each other to last a lifetime. Aaron decided that no woman, no matter how stunning, was worth battling with such a sour disposition.

He smiled at the memory and might have laughed except Camille would want to know what was so funny. He’d thought about it in the plane and it struck him again how ironic life could be. He was racing across the Mexican desert with the only woman he’d wished to never see again.

And he was more attracted to her than ever.

Finally, the horse crested a ridge overlooking the beach. A temperate ocean breeze puffed at them, cooling Aaron’s sunburned skin.

“We should ride in the surf to erase our tracks, in case they’re on our trail,” Aaron said as their mount picked its way down a canyon.

“Which direction do you think we should go?”

“If my bearings are correct, then the city we saw when we jumped is to the south. Let’s see what we find.” He tugged the reins.

Ahead of them stretched a pristine yellow-sand beach edged by cliffs and the endless ocean, which sparkled in the bright afternoon sun. It was lovely, really. Only a few hours earlier, he’d faced his own death, yet now he was riding horseback with a gorgeous woman along an empty beach. He closed his eyes and basked in the moment. Then the butt of Camille’s rifle poked him in the ribs.

“You know, when I fantasize about riding with a woman through the surf in Mexico, she’s not usually carrying a rifle.”

She twisted to look at him, wearing a wicked grin on her lips. “Sounds like you have boring fantasies.”