No Recourse Page 3

  Fury flickered across his face and she silently cursed her tongue.

  “You were in pain earlier. I think perhaps it would be best if you continue to lie still.”

  “I’m fine. I just need to move a bit slower.” She attempted to push herself up with one hand while she rubbed her forehead with the other.

  Strong hands grasped her shoulders and gently helped her. He dragged her to the head of the bed, so she could lean her back against the wall. Then he joined her on the bed, sitting closer than she liked. Although they were more or less on eye level now, his close proximity and sheer size still left her feeling at a disadvantage. His smell was an odd, though not unpleasant, combination of rain and fire.

  The closeness also gave her a clear view of his distinctly handsome face. Clear, deep blue eyes, chiseled jaw, and—oh my—dimples. Never one to giggle over the hotties in school, she felt as if she could do just that as she peered into the face of the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. Her giddiness was short-lived, however, when his features darkened even more and he began to scowl. Damn. Somebody woke up in a bad mood.

  “What were you doing out on a night like this?” His voice was so deep it was almost a growl.

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to take a walk. I left my backpack under the tree earlier today and thought I’d retrieve it.” She paused, glancing around for her bag.

  The stranger noticed her look. “Backpack?”

  “Bag.” Didn’t people in England use the term backpack?

  “I didn’t see a bag. You must have dropped it.”

  Shrugging, she recalled putting it down before approaching the tree. She stifled a shudder as she remembered the violent grip of the storm tossing her around like a rag doll.

  “Continue.” The man was obviously expecting a more detailed answer to his question.

  Never one to take orders lightly, she narrowed her eyes. “The thunderstorm caught me by surprise. I was about to return home when lightning struck that tree. I didn’t see you until it split in two. Why were you riding a horse at night in the rain?”

  “I ask the questions.”

  “Well, that’s not fair. I have as much right to ask questions as you.” She started to rise from the bed, but he halted her with a strong hand on her shoulder.

  “You’re hardly in a position to refuse to answer.” He tightened his grip to accentuate that he was stronger than she.

  Something was terribly, terribly wrong, but Hayley couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. She needed answers about what was happening as much as this man. Continuing this contest of wills wouldn’t get either one of them the information they were seeking. “I’ll make a deal with you. For every two questions I answer, you have to respond to one of mine.”

  “I don’t make deals.”

  “Then I don’t answer questions.” She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. Damn arrogant, impossible man. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

  Chapter 3

  Overwhelmed with a burning desire to do something to this infuriating woman, Jack seriously debated between shaking her and kissing her. Her mannerisms and speech marked her as an educated lady, although certainly not a gently bred one. She was intelligent, yet her language and behavior was coarse. To his chagrin, she was undaunted by the fact she was in serious danger. Even now as she appeared relaxed, he could see the wheels in her brain frantically working—no doubt assessing him and her situation. He respected her courage, despite the fact she was obviously lying.

  Strolling alone in the woods?

  The only house within walking distance was Fernwood Grange. A nagging suspicion began to take root in his mind. He couldn’t quite grasp what was wrong, but he was certain she was deceiving him somehow.

  “Since it appears you’re unwilling to talk, perhaps we could find something else to do to pass the time.” He leaned closer.

  Her eyes flew open. She understood his meaning. Closing the distance, he paused, expecting her to protest his forward actions. When she didn’t, he placed his mouth on hers. He’d intended to give her a simple, chaste kiss to scare her. However, the moment his lips touched hers, his body burst into flame. He raised his hands to her arms and roughly pulled her closer to him.

  Her lips remained tight for mere seconds before he felt a gradual softening. Then, she parted her lips, allowing him to delve even deeper into the kiss. Jack had never taken a woman’s lips with such hunger. He pressed closer, shocked, when her tongue swept against his.

  His conscience screamed and he broke off the kiss, looking at her flushed face. Her eyes opened slowly and, while her lips were red and slightly swollen, she looked at him with neither contempt nor embarrassment.

  She wasn’t a stranger to kisses. That thought thrilled and appalled him. He briefly considered seducing her into answering his questions. The idea of bedding this unconventional beauty appealed to him a great deal. However, her overly cautious mannerisms left him with an overpowering desire to protect her, even though the only thing she needed protection from was him.

  He walked toward the fire, keeping his back to her, trying to rein in his conflicting emotions. Bending down, he put two more logs on the fire. The storm had not abated, but grown. The wind was blowing through the cracks in the walls with alarming strength. It sounded as if a hurricane was battering at the cabin. He hoped the structure was strong enough to sustain the pounding.

  Bringing her here had been a mistake. He should have questioned her at the Grange. The cold wind and pouring rain guaranteed it would be a long, uncomfortable night. Now there was nothing he could do, but continue the interrogation. Without turning around, he asked, “Who are you?”

  “I wondered when you were going to ask me that. My name is Hayley.” No surname. Very well. They had all night. At her casual tone, he concluded his initial plan of intimidation was not the way to go. Her fearlessness and willing response to his kiss led him to believe that charm may work better and he certainly preferred a friendlier course.

  He turned to her with a somewhat forced smile. “I believe that was two answers on your part. You may ask a question.”

  With a suspicious smile, she acknowledged his concession. “What’s your name?”

  “Jack.” No last name or title—two could play that game. “Well, Hayley, it would seem you chose a very bad night to walk outdoors. Do you live around here?”

  “No, I’m from America. Guess you can tell from the accent,” she said. “I’m here visiting a friend on vacation.”

  “Friend? And why would this friend allow you roam the countryside on such a treacherous night?” He began to suspect, much to his dismay, the friend to whom she was referring was Alex’s wife. She was also an American.

  “Oh, Tori’s house is only over the hill a little ways from the tree that was struck by lightning and it wasn’t even threatening rain when I set out.” A confused look crossed her face. “You know, this may sound weird, but it wasn’t raining on my side of the tree. I didn’t think of it until now. I didn’t see you until the lightning struck and when I saw you through the split in the oak, the rain was pouring off your hat, but it wasn’t raining on me. How is that possible?”

  He thought back to his first glimpse of her in the storm. The rain was falling so hard he could barely make her out, but she was right. When she began to cry out, he grabbed her. Shocked by her sudden appearance and violent screaming, it didn’t dawn on him until this moment that her clothing was dry. “I cannot explain that. It’s strange. You said your friend Tori lives over the hill? The only home in this area is Fernwood Grange.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “My friend Tori Hamilton and her family own it.”

  “I know the owners of the Grange and there is no Tori Hamilton there. Why are you lying?”

  Her blatantly stupid lie made his anger rise. Julia’s disappearance, the argument with his uncle, the perilous trip through the storm and meeting this unusual woman had worn him down. At the end of
his patience, the last straw broke. Hayley was playing him for a fool with her beautiful face and spirited words. He’d had enough of her feminine games. Now it was time to get to the truth. At least one thing he attempted to do tonight would be resolved.

  Stalking back to the bed, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her roughly to her feet. She struggled to stand, still shaken from the pain she’d suffered in the storm, and only his firm hands held her steady. For the first time, he saw true fear in her eyes.

  Good, maybe now she will realize that I’m a serious danger to her.

  “I’m going to ask you again, for the last time, why were you under that tree?” He shook her slightly. “And I want the truth.”

  “I told you the truth!” she yelled. “Let me go!”

  Furious, he refused to listen to her continued lies. He was not to be trifled with. He was a soldier, an officer, a sailor, and a fierce businessman. She was playing with fire whether she realized it or not. Julia’s life was at stake and he didn’t have time for her games. Even at this moment, Julia could be outside in this cold, dangerous weather.

  Hayley fought in earnest as he gripped her shoulders more roughly. He released her when she unexpectedly kicked his shin, the sharp pain taking him unaware. She followed that blow with a kick to the gut that took his breath away. Good God, she had the strength of a horse. Taking several painful breaths, he struggled to remain upright. He’d never met such a physically powerful woman.

  Tackling her, he threw her on the pallet using his entire body to hold her down. “Stop fighting me! Who are you? Where is Julia?”

  Gasping for breath, she stilled, her face paler than before. Her exertions were costing her. His flash of fury was immediately replaced with shame. He’d never treated a woman so harshly, yet she had antagonized him to a point where he’d allowed his anger to take over.

  He moved away slowly, an apology hovering on his lips until she came at him like a wildcat straight from hell. He had no time to protect himself as she hurtled herself at him.

  Jack fell back, with her on top of him, hitting his head hard against the dirt floor. Stars flew behind his eyes, but before he could gather his wits, she managed to punch, scratch, kick, and slap him everywhere while he attempted to grab her flailing limbs. With a Herculean effort, he pressed her onto the floor. Straddling her kicking legs with his strong thighs, he went to work trying to catch her arms, which were still pummeling him with painful blows. Before he could stop her, she landed a smashing punch on one eye. Grasping both her wrists in one hand, he dragged her arms over her head.

  She was frustrated and exhausted and the fight seemed to leave her with the realization she was trapped. Any gentle feelings he may have had about her had been driven out by the battle she’d just waged. He tightened his grip on her wrists painfully and pressed his weight more fully onto her legs, taking a perverse pleasure in her gasp of pain.

  With his free hand, he took stock of his injuries. She’d left four long gouges from ear to chin on one side of his face and he had a tender spot on his scalp from the handful of hair she’d pulled out. He tasted blood on his lip and felt a sudden swelling underneath his left eye, which was sure to be black by tomorrow morning. On top of all that, his head was throbbing from hitting the floor so hard and he was still seeing spots.

  Turning his attention to her, he realized with fury—and a little relief—she’d fared much better. Her hair, a matted, sweaty mess, was clinging to her face and he spotted the beginning of a bruise on her left cheek. Other than that and her flushed face, she appeared to be the picture of health, which caused the anger to again pump through his veins.

  What made Hayley think she could fight and win against a pirate who was a foot taller, a hundred pounds heavier and pure muscle? Christ, she’d never met such a strong man and she’d basically broken every rule ever pounded into her head in her self-defense classes. Realizing she wouldn’t be able to escape his hold, she did something she’d never done—she gave in.

  “I’m sorry.” She tried to remember the last time she’d said those words. Apologies didn’t come easy to her.

  She looked into his eyes and, for the first time, she could see them clearly. They were the most stunning blue she’d ever seen—cerulean blue, her favorite crayon color. Those beautiful, now gentle, eyes comforted her and against her better judgment, she released a long, slow breath and repeated her words. “I’m sorry, Jack.”

  Lifting her, he cradled her as her body shook with fatigue, fear and confusion. Something was wrong, but she was too weary to figure it out. With quiet, kind mumblings, he rocked her until the trembling subsided—the motion strangely reminding her of her mother, although she couldn’t recall Marian ever holding her like this. Eventually the stress of the evening drained out of her, leaving her more tired, more exhausted than if she’d run a marathon.

  They sat rocking silently until a strong draft blew out the candle behind them. She shivered slightly in the chilly air. Jack carefully stood with her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

  He pulled two blankets over her. He hesitated briefly, and then he lay down beside her on the small cot. She immediately tensed up.

  “No more fighting,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you. It’s cold and I want to lie beside you to keep you warm. Nothing more, I promise.”

  Gently, he pulled her to his side with his arm around her shoulders. She should rebel against this closeness, but she couldn’t find the energy or desire to fight it. The room truly was freezing. Her clothes were still damp and she worried about the possibility of pneumonia. She wished she had worn a jacket before embarking on the short trip to the tree. Jack was right to join her. She was already beginning to warm up with the addition of his body heat under the thin blankets.

  It had been an odd night—one of the strangest of her life. Her entire body ached and her mind screamed something bizarre was happening, but for the moment, simply lying in this handsome man’s arms was comforting and right. She had never felt so at ease with a man and, for once, she didn’t fight the feeling. For now—for this moment—she felt safe and she refused to let her fears, her demons take control. Outside the wild storm continued to rage, but for once, Hayley fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 4

  Warmth and pleasure like Hayley had never known hummed through her entire body. Feathery light touches and soft hands caressed her back, rubbing her sore muscles up and down, up and down. They were magic hands, gentle hands, soothing, calming. She stretched, her eyes still closed, and sighed with delight.

  Then she realized the touches were coming from real hands. Jerking upright, she winced—her muscles protesting the quick action. A man’s deep chuckle brought the previous night’s events back to her. Peering over her shoulder, she saw the source of those hands. They weren’t pirate hands, although they did belong to a black-hearted thug cruel enough to be a pirate. His obvious amusement at her discomfort sent her hackles up.

  “Easy, firebrand. I don’t think you want a repeat of last evening. At least not until we’ve both had time to heal.” He smiled with such unguarded charm, she nearly smiled back. Taking notice of his use of the word we and the black eye he was sporting, it was likely he was in more pain than she was. The thought gave her a strong sense of satisfaction.

  She shivered. “I’m cold.”

  “Well, I’m not surprised.” He gently pulled her back under the cocoon of blankets and into his arms. “Even with the fire, this cabin is no better than being outside. I can see your breath. At least the storm has passed. Dawn broke about an hour ago and the sun is peeking through the trees. It will warm up soon. If we could get a few things settled between us, I’d like to return you to your home.”

  “Settled?” She was amazed at how relaxed she felt lying in his arms. “Are you sure you don’t have me confused with someone else? You ask me a bunch of strange questions and then get pissed off and call all my answers lies. I’ve spent the last two summers at Fernwood Grange with my fr
iend, Tori Hamilton, and yet you say she doesn’t live there. This cabin looks like something out of the stone ages—so do you for that matter—and most of the time you look at me like I have two heads.” She pointed to his incredulous face. “Right now, for example.”

  “I don’t know what it is about you, Hayley, but you’re unlike any woman I have ever met.”

  “How so?” Still drowsy, she enjoyed their lighthearted banter.

  Then that nagging little thing called reality intruded. He could be a criminal, for God’s sake. A pervert, a thief, a kidnapper. Get up and out of here, Hayley.

  With that uncomfortable idea, she attempted to rise again, but he tightened his grip on her shoulders. “No, don’t. I said I wouldn’t hurt you and I meant it. Now lie still—it’s too cold to rise yet. Besides, every muscle in my body aches thanks to that boxing contest last night. Just stay here for a little while longer. Maybe we should try to sleep more. We were up rather late.”

  Once again, she allowed his gentle voice to reassure her. The cabin truly was bitter cold and she had no desire to brave the elements just yet. She closed her eyes and snuggled closer, soaking up the heat radiating from his body and inhaling his scent, which was masculine—woodsy—and surprisingly nice.

  “You never answered me. How am I different from other women you know?”

  “Ah, yes.” His voice was heavy, lazy. “Let’s see, where to begin? It’s quite simple really. If not for these telltale curves,” he rubbed his hand over her hips seductively, “I would say you’re more like a man than a woman.”

  She sat up and narrowed her eyes as she remembered his actions from the previous evening. Recalling his attempts to threaten her, her temper flared. “Why? Because I refuse to tremble at your pathetic attempts of intimidation? You think as a woman, I should cower at your mere presence and succumb to your bullying charms? No, thanks.”

  Jack sat up slowly. “What are you talking about?”