“Out of the kindness of my heart, I’m driving him to my house.” She winked seductively. “He asked me to nurse him through the night.”
The guard grinned at her. His eyes moved over the slumping occupant of the truck. Assured that the officer was unconscious, he asked, “Why bother with him? Wouldn’t you rather have a real man?” He made a crude reference to the dimensions of his manhood, which Kerry found not only unbelievable, but revolting.
Nonetheless, she simpered and lowered her lashes. “I’m sorry, but the captain has already paid me for tonight. Perhaps another time.”
“Perhaps,” he said cockily. “If I can afford you.”
She tapped his hand flirtatiously. Making a moue of regret, she waved goodbye and put the truck into gear. The young guard commanded his partner at the checkpoint to raise the gate and she drove through it.
For several miles, Kerry tenaciously gripped the steering wheel and kept her eyes on the rearview mirror as much as she did on the winding road ahead. When it became apparent that no one was following her, she began to tremble in delayed reaction.
She had done it!
The mercenary had stayed blessedly quiet during the entire exchange with the guard. Now they were on their way and no one was even chasing them. She made a wide loop around the city and took the turnoff, which led straight into the jungle. Soon the tops of the trees interlaced over the road to form a leafy tunnel.
The road narrowed and grew bumpier with each passing mile. The mercenary’s head grew heavy where it lay against her breasts. He weighted down the entire right side of her body. She tried to shove him away several times, but she couldn’t budge him. Finally she gave up, concluding that having him asleep against her was better than having to fight off his aggressive love play.
She gave considerable thought to stopping before she reached the place she had sighted earlier, but talked herself out of it. The more distance she put between the mercenary and the city tonight, the more bargaining power she would have tomorrow. So she kept driving over the corrugated road with the man’s head bouncing heavily against her at every chuckhole.
She became sleepy. The monotony of the headlights being mirrored off the encroaching jungle was mesmerizing. She became so drowsy that she almost missed her turn. The moment she saw the slight break in the solid wall of t
rees, she reacted quickly and whipped the steering wheel to the left, then pulled the truck to a stop and cut the engine.
Jungle birds, roosting in the trees overhead, loudly protested this nighttime intrusion, then resettled. The quiet darkness enclosed the small truck like a black velvet fist.
Sighing tiredly, Kerry shoved the man off her. She arched her back, stretching out the aching muscles. She rolled her head around her shoulders. Her relief at having accomplished her mission was profound. There was nothing to do then but wait until daylight.
But the mercenary had something else in mind.
Before she could brace herself for it, he smothered her in an embrace. His nap seemed to have revived him. His kisses were more fervent than ever. While his tongue playfully flicked over her lips, his hands pulled down the oversized bodice of her dress. He plunged his hand inside and scooped up her breast.
“No!” Garnering her strength, Kerry placed her hands against his shoulders and shoved with all her might. He went toppling over backward and his head hit the dashboard. He rolled to his side and sagged forward. The only thing that prevented him from slumping all the way to the floorboard was his size. His wide shoulders pinned him between the dashboard and the seat.
He didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.
Horrified, Kerry covered her mouth and waited several breathless moments. He remained motionless. “Oh, Lord, I’ve killed him.”
She opened the door of the truck. The overhead light came on. When her eyes had adjusted to the sudden brightness, she stared down at the mercenary. Tentatively she poked at him. He groaned.
Her fearful expression turned into one of disgust. He wasn’t dead, just dead drunk and passed out.
She tried to pull him up by his shirt collar, but couldn’t. Levering herself up on her knees, she tugged on his shoulders until he flopped back, settling into the corner of the cab formed by the passenger door and the back of the seat.
His head was bent over. One cheek was resting against his shoulder. He’d have a crick in his neck by morning. Good. Kerry hoped he did. Anyone who drank himself into a stupor like that deserved to reap the dire consequences.
But his position made him look much less threatening. His eyelashes were long and curled, she noticed, incongruent with the masculinity of his face. With the dome light shining on him, she saw that his hair was dark brown, but streaked with reddish highlights, and that beneath his deep tan, he was freckled across his cheekbones.
He was breathing deeply through his mouth. His lips were slightly parted. With that sulky, full, lower lip, it was no wonder he could kiss— She yanked her mind away from any thought of the way he’d kissed her.
Before she started feeling any softness toward him, she thought about how he might react in the morning. He might not take kindly to being recruited for her cause. He might react violently to finding himself in the middle of nowhere before she had a chance to make her sales pitch. These mercenaries were ruthlessly short-tempered.
She looked at the machete. Acting before she could talk herself out of it, she unsnapped the scabbard and slid the long blade out of it. It seemed to weigh a hundred pounds. She maneuvered it awkwardly, barely saved her thighs from being sliced in two and tossed it onto the ground outside the open door.
Then there was the pistol.
She stared at it for several moments. Her stomach became victim to an odd flurrying. She should disarm him. That would be the smart thing to do, but, considering where the pistol was...
Now certainly wasn’t the time to get squeamish! When she considered what she’d already gone through tonight, getting timid now was ludicrous.