Apache Tears by Georgina Gentry

Author:Georgina Gentry [Gentry, Georgina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 2014-08-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

She looked up at him in astonishment as he loomed over her on his galloping horse. “Cougar?”

He hesitated, pulling on the reins, causing the paint to rear and whinny. In the swirling alkali dust, she saw only his war-painted face and bright blue eyes. Those eyes widened now with surprise and hatred. “You!”

Hatred? His eyes were like glacier ice in that painted brown face. Instinctively, Libbie scrambled to her feet and took off running; she stumbled, fell, got up, and began to run again, breathing hard. Behind her, she heard the thunder of hooves. She glanced over her shoulder. The big stallion was coming at her in a dead gallop. He was going to ride her down!

Even as she screamed out a protest, he leaned from the saddle and swung her up before him on the saddle.

“Cougar!” she kicked and shrieked. “Don’t you remember me? Put me down! How dare you run off my driver!” She beat her small fists against his bare chest.

He paid no more attention to her blows than if she were a child. Instead he threw back his head and laughed, but there was no warmth in that laughter. “Remember you? How could I forget? So we meet again, lieutenant’s lady!”

So they hadn’t hanged him after all—or maybe he had escaped. She was only too aware of the strength and the warmth of the arm gripping her through the pale pink dress. She had forgotten how big and male he was. Terrified by his tone and the fury in those cold blue eyes, she looked up into his face, but saw no warmth there. Past his broad shoulder, she saw the other warriors tearing into her luggage, throwing her things in the air. “Make them stop! They’re destroying my things!”

“You’re in the hands of savages, and yet you worry about fine clothes and jewelry,” he sneered, but he didn’t yell at his men to stop. Instead, he hung on to her, ignoring her struggles as he rode back to the buggy and spoke to his men in his own language. It was apparent to Libbie that he was urging them to hurry. Now he turned his own mount toward the south. “We will leave now,” he informed her in English, “before your brave driver reaches the fort and brings a bluecoat rescue party.”

“How dare you! I’m not going anywhere with you!” She struggled, but he held her against him firmly, paying not the slightest notice of her protest. Instead, he kicked his magnificent stallion into a gallop and pressed Libbie against his warm, naked chest.

And to think she had come to Arizona hoping to save this wretched half-breed from an army hanging. The ingrate! Now she wished he was on the scaffold and she was being given the privilege of pulling the trap.

“Listen to me!” she demanded, but he didn’t even look down at her as he galloped south, surrounded by his warriors.

Soon Phillip will come to the rescue with a bunch of soldiers, she thought.

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