And it was about Carrie Granger not being the only American on this mountain in need of rescue.

He drew a deep breath and made himself disengage. Now was not the time to indulge in the mind f.u.c.k of self-pity. And until he could get a handle on what was happening with his head he needed to be very careful around this woman.

"It's going to be okay," he promised her, surprised at the gruffness in his voice. Surprised again when he lifted a hand and gently brushed a fall of blond hair out of her eyes. "Take it to the bank, Carrie. You're going to be okay now."

"Thank you." A world of grat.i.tude, relief, and trust shimmered in her eyes.

Eyes so brave and true, he found himself praying he deserved that trust.

Praying? h.e.l.l, he didn't pray. And even if he did, prayer wasn't going to get them out of this. Keeping his head in the game was. Starting now. h.e.l.l, he didn't pray. And even if he did, prayer wasn't going to get them out of this. Keeping his head in the game was. Starting now.

"Eat," he said forcefully for the benefit of the guards. "We need to get some protein in you."

This time she didn't hesitate. With one hand latched in a death grip on the blanket between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she rushed to the table and sat down on the woven matting that covered the dirt floor. Then she tore into the soup, white rice, and chicken curry.

He'd been hungry himself before, but he'd never understood the term ravenous ravenous until he watched her eat. until he watched her eat.

"Easy," he cautioned. Ignoring the warning alarms telling him not to, he reached for the whiskey bottle the general had left. He poured a tall shot and downed it in one swallow. "Slow down or you're going to make yourself sick."

He watched her get control again. Couldn't help but notice that despite the brutality of her captivity, there was no disguising how astonishingly beautiful she was. The bones always told, and hers were amazing. She had high cheekbones, perfectly arched brows, and a cupid's bow upper lip that just begged for attention.

Christ.

He thought about hitting that bottle one more time... but he knew where that road led and the last thing he wanted to do was let this woman down.

Five.

Daylight had faded, and the inside of the tent was cast in shadows by the time she'd eaten her fill, savoring every bite. Cav understood. It was as much about nourishment for the soul as it was for her body.

Her body.

She was naked beneath the blanket. He did his d.a.m.nedest not to think about it. Or to remember the generous perfection of the b.r.e.a.s.t.s the guards had brutally forced her to bare.

What he needed to think about were the bruises crisscrossing her shoulders and back. The angry welt on her rib cage, just below her left breast. The cuts on her feet, the blisters on her hands.

A motor roared to life in the distance, and a bare bulb flickered to dim life overhead. He'd noticed the gas-powered generator on the other side of the camp earlier. Its noise would provide partial cover for their conversation.

"How are you, physically?" he asked, still cautious, leaning in close so they wouldn't be overheard.

"Much better now."

"Infections? Fever? Anything broken?"

She shook her head, and the ends of the blanket picked that moment to slip and fall away from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She reached up and caught it, but not before he got a glimpse of a dusky rose nipple.

"I need to check your ribs."

Her face flushed pink in the pale light. "It's just a bruise."

"The skin is broken."

Her eyes met his, beseeching.

He got it. She was humiliated over the way they'd stripped her, then held her there for everyone to see her naked from the waist up.

Yeah, he got it, but he couldn't give her a pa.s.s. Besides, he had to start acting the part of the paying customer. Daylight had actually provided more anonymity inside the tent than the night did. The overhead light, anemic as it was, cast their shadows against the tent walls for inquisitive eyes to see.

"Trust me," he mouthed and sat down cross-legged beside her. "On my lap."

Her eyes widened, suspicion rampant on her face as she glanced at the strip of condoms he'd dropped on the table earlier.

"They're props," he a.s.sured her quickly. "If you talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk to convince the bad guys. Trust me," he whispered again, and nodded toward the tent wall.

He saw the moment she understood. Just like the condoms, this was for show. Whoever was out there would see their shadows and a.s.sume they were watching a man having his way with a woman.

Very gingerly, she moved toward him and settled herself sideways on his lap, her right side pressing against his chest.

She was tall and lean, and while she'd doubtless dropped some weight during her captivity he was very much aware that she still had plenty of curves.

"That's more like it, baby." Even if the guards didn't understand English, they'd recognize his lewd tone. "How about a little grat.i.tude for getting you out of your cage for the night?"

She stiffened but let him pull her against him.

"Easy," he whispered, pressing his mouth against her ear and trying not to think about her firm a.s.s nestled up tight against his groin. "Once we make our break, we have to head through some rough territory. In this climate, in this terrain, even a small cut is ripe for infection."

She turned her face toward him, her mouth very near his. Anyone outside watching their shadows would think she was letting him kiss her. "When? When are we leaving?"

The anxious edge in her voice made it clear she wanted him to say "now."

"When I say it's time." He ran his hand over her hair to enhance the visual, then stroked her shoulder and reached down to her thigh. "Now I need to look at those ribs."

She stiffened involuntarily and he made himself slow down.

"You trust Wyatt, right?"

She swallowed, then nodded.

"And he trusts me to get you out of here. You need to follow his lead. Let's just get this over with so we can move on."

She closed her eyes and, in what must have taken formidable effort, lifted her right arm and wrapped it around his shoulders.

Progress. Only he was the one shaken now. He'd asked for her trust and now that he had it, it felt like a Mack truck had just parked on his shoulders.

"What about the others?" she asked tentatively. "When we go, we can't just leave them here."

Cav had already thought about releasing the workers, creating a little pandemonium to buy them some time, and then he'd thought better of it.

"If we release them when we make our break, it will wake up the entire camp. The guards will come out shooting and a lot of people will get gunned down. We'll do more harm than good." He saw the compa.s.sion in her eyes and felt regret in his gut.

"But-"

"No discussion, Carrie. We go out alone tonight. But I promise you this: I'll be back." He had made that decision the moment he'd set foot on the mining site. When the time was right he would get these poor souls out of here. Until then, he'd be haunted by the dead eyes that had looked right through him.

"Take it to the bank," he a.s.sured her. "I'll be back with a team to get them out."

The regret in her eyes slowly transitioned to grim acceptance.

After a long, quiet moment, she finally relaxed enough to lean against him. Like a lover. Like a woman who knew what the action would do to a man.

The tent was warm. Her skin was hot. Flickering light played along the slender line of her throat and the gentle slope of her shoulder. Her thigh was warm beneath his hand, and her weight was all woman and enticing on his lap. In the moment, the idea that she'd been summoned to his tent as a s.e.xual diversion felt a little too close for comfort.

He still didn't understand why he was having such a strong reaction to her. She was just another woman in a long line of them.

"How do you know Wyatt?" she asked quietly.

"Long story. We can talk about it later," he said, then warned her so she could prepare herself. "I'm going to pull the blanket away now."

Louder, he said, "Okay, doll. Let's have another look at the merchandise... Nice," he said when the blanket pooled around her hips.

She closed her eyes and covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with her free arm, a small concession to her modesty and an action that would appear seductive from the outside looking in.

h.e.l.l, it was was seductive. And it was very... southern. Like her voice. And very sweet. seductive. And it was very... southern. Like her voice. And very sweet.

Yet she was very, very tough, he conceded as he probed her bruises and she barely flinched.

"Give me a groan," he whispered. "A loud one. And make it s.e.xy." If nothing else, it would give her a cover for the pain he knew he was inflicting.

She hesitated but then gave it her all.

"Oh, G.o.d," she whispered, lowering her head. "That sounded ridiculous."

He smiled against her hair. "Trust me. They're panting out there."

"Then they're sick."

He chuckled softly. "Tell me what you can about the camp routine. When do the guards change shifts?"

Her breath was warm against his throat as she leaned farther into him to enhance the show. "They change around eleven and again around seven. Maybe also around four in the afternoon. That's as close as I can figure, judging by the position of the sun."

"Good observations. I counted around twenty guards."

"Twenty-four," she corrected.

"All with automatic weapons," Cav muttered absently as he lowered his mouth to the curve of her throat and traced her ribs with his fingertips in search of more injuries. "And there are what... a hundred and forty, maybe a hundred fifty workers?"

"Something like that."

"I saw five vehicles. Two trucks, two old jeeps, and the sedan that brought me here. That sum it up?"

She nodded. "They use the trucks to transport supplies, fresh troops, and new batches of workers. The general makes use of the two jeeps to move around the mine site."

He traced the welt that ran from just below her left breast, under her arm, and around her back, where it stopped under her shoulder blade. Her skin was very soft. Her bones extremely fine. And d.a.m.n...

She sucked in a quick, pained breath when he pressed at the swelling.

"Bad?" He studied her profile with concern.

She bit her lower lip, shook her head in denial of the pain.

"You're not much of a liar," he whispered, then said in a louder voice, "It's okay, baby. You can scream if you like it. Turns me on."

What came out was more of a growl but she stuck to her guns about the pain. "It's better than it was."

Yeah, he was right about the tough part. And she was very s.e.xy, too.

He backed away from that thought in double time. Wrong time, wrong place, and Jesus Jesus, wrong thinking. d.a.m.n, he wanted another drink.

"I don't think anything's broken," he said gruffly, and he quickly applied the salve from his backpack. "Now we need to move this to the cot, before the natives start questioning my motives."

And before the swelling action in his pants embarra.s.sed her even further.

CARRIE ROSE SLOWLY from his lap, placing a hand on his shoulder for balance. She was anxious to get some distance from his probing, yet she was reluctant to move even a few inches away from him. from his lap, placing a hand on his shoulder for balance. She was anxious to get some distance from his probing, yet she was reluctant to move even a few inches away from him. What if she'd gone off the deep end and this was all some cruel fantasy, and the minute she broke contact he disappeared? What if she'd gone off the deep end and this was all some cruel fantasy, and the minute she broke contact he disappeared?

But he'd felt real enough, she thought, walking the few steps to the cot. His body had been hard and hot beneath hers. His hands had felt strong and rough even as he'd taken care not to hurt her.

When she'd leaned into him his heart had beat like thunder against her breast. His breath had been warm and scented of whiskey when he'd whispered in her ear. And while she knew he hadn't intended for it to happen, she'd felt him grow hard against her hip.

She flushed hot, thinking about it as she sank down on the cot'sthin mattress. After a deep breath, she made herself look at him when he sat beside her. Big. Imposing. Strong. If he wanted to, he could overpower her in a heartbeat.

Thank G.o.d this seduction scene was just for show.

And thank G.o.d he was real. Real and here and... "I don't even know your name."

He turned the most intense dark eyes on her. "Sorry. It's David. David Cavanaugh." He smiled then, and all she could do was stare as it transformed his face.

Wyatt sent one of People People magazine's hundred s.e.xiest men alive to save me magazine's hundred s.e.xiest men alive to save me.

She almost laughed at her absurdity, but it was true. With that dark hair falling over his forehead and the smile that was a little bit reckless and a lot rogue, she couldn't shake the image of Johnny Depp with a little Hugh Jackman thrown in for good measure.

And he'd just seen her naked. Just touched her bare skin.

"My friends call me Cav," he added. "Now lie back and let the s.e.x fiend indulge in his twisted foot fetish, while I I take a look at those poor battered tootsies of yours." take a look at those poor battered tootsies of yours."