“Better,” he said judiciously. “But I’m looking forward to you telling me to go fuck myself.”
“Consider it said,” she snapped.
“Oh, no. I need to hear the words from your innocent lips.”
She tightened her innocent lips, glaring at him.
“You two already got a thing going on?” Dylan inquired. “’Coz I’ve been up in the mountains away from females for more than six weeks myself, and if you don’t mind I just might tap that.”
Beth couldn’t even begin to respond to that one. MacGowan did it for her.
“Just a suggestion, brat, but if you’re wanting to seduce a woman, you’re better off not calling her a cow and suggesting she’s too old.”
“Well, hell, she’s probably in need of a little physical comfort and escape just like we are. Women have needs too, you know.”
“Do they really?” MacGowan said in an innocent voice. “I think Sister Beth will do without your attentions. She looks like a virgin to me.”
It was the last straw. “I am not!”
He glanced back at her. “Close to it, I bet. You probably slept with someone, didn’t like it, and decided not to try again.”
“You’re not even close,” she said. It had been two men and a total of three encounters before she’d given sex up for good. “And I’m not discussing this with you.”
“Then why do you keep answering?” He stopped again. “Dylan, I think we’d better keep Sister Beth between us. She’s smaller than the two of us, more vulnerable, unless she’s got a black belt I don’t know about, and she’d be safer between us. Besides, this way you get to look at her ass, and trust me, it’s a very fine ass for a woman her age.”
“I’m thirty-one!” she protested again, then gave up. He was right about one thing – she shouldn’t keep rising to the bait. “And I’m fine where I am.” Dylan had stepped aside, but she refused to move.
“And I don’t give a damn what you think,” he said, grabbing her upper arm in his strong grip and pulling her behind him. She was going to be a mass of bruises by the time she reached the city. Carlos and company had already inflicted a fair amount of damage, and MacGowan was finishing the job. “Just follow me and don’t wiggle your ass too much. The boy is young and impressionable.”
“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” She enunciated the words very carefully.
“Better,” he said. “But I don’t hear real conviction in the words. We’ll work on it.”
“I’m certain you’ll give me plenty of opportunity to practice it,” she said sweetly.
For a moment he said nothing. “You’re a dangerous woman, Sister Beth,” he said finally.
And she had no idea what he meant.
He could fall in love with a woman like that, he thought darkly, moving down the narrow path, feeling her behind him. She was cold and he knew it. Her clothes hadn’t dried, and the night was chilly. If hadn’t been so damned quixotic and rescued the brat he could have taken her someplace secluded, stripped off her wet clothes and warmed her from the inside out. And he’d have made sure she enjoyed it.
That was a danger too. If you give a woman the best sex of her life then she’s likely to want more. And more. More than you were willing to give.
No, Beth Pennington was nothing but temptation wrapped up in a prim, tasty little package, and he couldn’t afford to be tempted. He needed her money, and rescuing Dylan hadn’t been quixotic. He needed his money as well. He had no idea what he was going to face when he got back to London, but Peter Madsen was going to die slowly and in a great deal of pain, and that would cost money. The thought of revenge had kept him alive, and he wasn’t going to let go of it so fast.
He couldn’t afford to let Beth Pennington distract him. He needed to get paid and get rid of the two of them as soon as possible, so he could concentrate on his own problems.
If he could make them hike through the daylight tomorrow they might reach the edges of civilization by tomorrow evening if his calculations were on target. There they could find transportation to the nearest city with an airport, and they could wire the money into his bank account in the Cayman Islands. Once he had verification he could dump them and be on his way.
In the meantime, keeping her annoyed gave her energy and made her forget to be scared. And it amused him. Dylan was easier to handle – he was a typical adolescent mass of hormones, and talking about sex kept him fully distracted. They would both be hungry – he’d taken the weapons and food rations from the bodies of the men he’d killed, as well as a decent pair of boots, and he’d feed his two lost lambs around midnight, when the moon was bright overhead. That would keep them going.
But eventually even he was going to have a hard time coming up with distractions, and then all they could do was put one foot in front of the other and hope they made it.
Things weren’t that bad yet. And if he got too tired to bait them he could simply bully and threaten them, and fill his mind with erotic fantasies about all the things he wanted to do as soon as he found a willing professional.
The only problem was, with each explicitly, definitely X-rated fantasy he was seeing Beth’s face, her eyes wide with shock and pleasure. Damn, he needed a woman.
CHAPTER SEVEN