Elle James - Cowboy Resurrected

Thorn could almost see the cogs turning in her brain.

Finally she faced him, her brows raised. “San Antonio. Sí, I am from San Antonio.”

“Vacationing in Big Bend, huh?” He raised a hand to his chin and stared down his nose at her. “I’m familiar with San Antonio. What section of town?”

Her eyes flared, then closed. She turned her back to him. “The north side.”

“Ah, you must prefer shopping at Ingram Park Mall since it’s closest to you, right?”

Her shoulders were stiff, and she remained with her back to him. “Right. Ingram.”

Thorn’s teeth ground together. If she really lived on the north side of San Antonio, the closest mall was not Ingram. She didn’t know San Antonio any more than she knew where she was at the moment.

She dragged in a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with it. “What now?”

Thorn opened his mouth to call her out on her lie, but stopped when he noticed the dark shadows beneath her eyes and what appeared to be the yellowing remnants of a bruise across her cheek. He’d get the truth out of her, but it could wait until they both got a little rest. “Now we sleep.”

He unfolded the second bed’s mattress and stretched across it, laying the pistol beside him and lacing his hands behind his head. “You look done in. I suggest you get some shut-eye.”

Her gaze swept over his naked chest, and lower. She hesitated, her tongue sweeping out across her lower lip.

The brief appearance of her pink tongue stirred a heated response low in Thorn’s belly. Damn. What was wrong with him? He’d loved Kayla more than life itself. Why was his body reacting so strongly to this woman? Was it the vulnerability in her green eyes, or that she’d tried so determinedly to escape him that appealed to him on a deeper level? Whatever it was, he’d be glad when he handed her off to the authorities tomorrow. He closed his eyes to her image bathed in the glow of the fire in the stove. “I’m not going to sleep until you do, so move it.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

He opened his eyes. “Too bad.”

Her glance darted from him to the bed beside his. “I have enough food for two people. Unfortunately, I don’t have a way to open the cans. Hector—” Her lips clamped shut, and her face paled even more.

“Hector?” Thorn’s eyes narrowed. He was up off the bed in a second. “You were traveling with someone else.” He closed the distance between the two of them. “Weren’t you?” Thorn gripped her shoulders, his fingers digging into her shirt.

Sophia, eyes wide as saucers, shook her head back and forth, tears spilling from the corners. “N-no. I was alone.” She cowered, her eyes squinting, ducking her head as if expecting a blow.

“You’re lying.” He shook her. “Where is he?”

She gulped, the muscles in her throat working convulsively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With her body close to his, her arms warm beneath his fingers, heat surged, followed by anger. “Damn it, woman, I’m tired of playing twenty questions. Spit it out. Where is this Hector? Do I have to stay awake all night in case he comes in and tries to kill me, too?”

“No!” Sobs shook her slight frame and her head tipped forward, her damp hair falling over her face. “Madre de Dios.” She crossed herself. “He is dead.”

The words came out in a whisper. Thorn thought he’d heard it wrong. He bent closer. “What did you say?”

A sob ripped from her throat and her head fell back, tears running like raindrops down her cheeks. “He’s dead. They shot him. He tried to help me, and now he’s dead! And it’s my fault.”

Chapter Three

Sophia swallowed hard, realizing her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

“Who shot him?” Thorn shook her. Not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to wrench another sob from her throat.

She looked away, the memory of Hector lying in a pool of his own blood far too fresh to erase. “I don’t know.” She choked back another sob, reminding herself that she couldn’t cry forever. After all the time she’d spent as a captive in the compound, she’d learned one thing: crying didn’t solve anything. What would it hurt to tell this man a few details? “Someone in a helicopter fired a machine gun at Hector.”

His brows rose into the lock of hair drooping over his forehead. “A machine gun?”

Sophia nodded.

“Where is Hector now?” Thorn demanded.

“We were in the canyon. Hector had topped the ridge when the helicopter flew in. I h-hid beneath an overhang.” She looked at him through her tears. “I should have helped.”

“Against a helicopter?” Thorn’s lips pressed together. “Not much you could do on your own unless you had a rocket launcher.” He tipped his head to the side. “Question is, why did a helicopter fire on you and your friend Hector if you were only out hiking in Big Bend country?” Thorn’s eyes narrowed. “Now would be a good time to tell me the truth.” He dropped his hold and crossed his arms. He waited a few seconds. “Neither one of us is going anywhere until you do.”

She glanced toward the door. Thunder rumbled, rattling the doorknob. “I told you, we were hiking.”

His lips thinned, and he shook his head. “I’m not buying it. There’s a motorcycle in the lean-to that wasn’t there a day ago. I’m betting you rode in on it.”

She stared up at him, her mouth working, but nothing came out.

“Which brings me back to my original theory. You’re an illegal alien.”

“I’m not. My mother is American and, though I was born in Mexico, I have dual citizenship.”

He held out his hand. “Then you won’t mind showing me your passport.”

She stared at his hand, her throat muscles working at swallowing the lump lodged in her windpipe. “I don’t have it on me.”

“Thought so. No documents, riding a bike across the desert near the border, helicopter in pursuit.” He snorted. “You are definitely an illegal and possibly dangerous.”

“Think what you will.” She tossed back her long light brown hair. “Tomorrow I’ll be away from here, and you won’t have to worry about me.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.”

She frowned. “Count on what?”

“That you’ll be gone, or that I wouldn’t worry about you. I’ve kinda taken a liking to you. Must have been the fall.” He raised his hand to the back of his head.

“I’m sorry to say I have not taken a liking to you, señor,” she said, tipping her chin upward.

“Really?” Thorn leaned close, his eyes narrowing even more. He stared at her long enough to make her squirm.

Then he tilted his head back and laughed out loud. “You are entirely too naive and predictable, Sophia.”

She harrumphed, clasping her arms around her body. “I’m happy you find me amusing.”

Lightning flashed, sending shards of light through cracks in the boarded windows, followed by a deafening clap of thunder.

Sophia jumped, bumping into Thorn’s naked chest. She raised a hand to steady herself and encountered smooth, hard muscles. Heat suffused her entire body. She might not like the man, but she couldn’t help admiring his physique. She told herself it was nothing more than appreciation for a fine form.

Her belly rumbled loudly, reminding her that she needed to eat or risk dry heaves. And preparing food would allow her to put distance between herself and Thorn. She nodded toward the food on the bed. “I’m hungry.”

“So you said.” He reached out.

Sophia flinched, raising her hand to block his as she ducked.

Thorn’s frown deepened. “Did you think I’d hit you?”

Sophia straightened, her body tense. “You wouldn’t be the first man.”

He continued to reach past her. Plucking a metal object from a shelf on the wall, he held it up. “I was reaching for the can opener.” Thorn tossed the device on the bed and turned to grip her arms. “For the record, I don’t hit women.”