Hostage to Thunder Horse. Elle James

her body, rubbing his hands up and down her cold arms and tucking her feet between his calves to warm them.

      Cold. She was so cold.

      Susan’s face swam before him, her lips blue, her tawny blond hair buffeted by the wind, the only movement on her lifeless form. For a moment his world stood still as he stared down into the quiet countenance, the blank stare of his dead fiancée intruding into his thoughts.

      But that was years ago. This woman wasn’t Susan. For the first time since he’d found her, he studied the woman, blocking out the sad memories. In the shadowy glow of the flashlight, he leaned back enough to stare at the woman so near death he was afraid he might already be too late.

      Dark hair, as black as his own, splayed across his gray sweatshirt pillow in large loose waves. Sooty, narrow brows winged outward in sharp contrast to her pale, almost translucent skin. Her hair dipped to a shallow peak at the center of her forehead and her lashes lay like fans across her cheeks. A pointed chin, perky nose and delicate ears completed her perfection.

      As close as he was, Maddox caught a whiff of a subtle yet exotic perfume. His breath caught in his throat. This stranger didn’t have Susan’s girl-next-door fresh looks, yet her ethereal beauty was so profound it sucked the wind right out of his lungs, his groin tightening in automatic response to her skin against his. He hadn’t been drawn to any woman since Susan’s death. He hadn’t let himself be, his burden of guilt weighing heavily.

      The woman in the sleeping bag with him was a stranger. A beautiful, exotic stranger with skin the color of a porcelain doll and hair softer and silkier than anything he’d ever run his hands through.

      He forced himself to focus on anything other than her physical attributes, shifting to all the unknowns, the mystery and reasons he shouldn’t trust her. He didn’t know her, she hadn’t carried a driver’s license or passport. He didn’t know her background.

      Who the hell was she? Would she live to tell him?

      Chapter Two

      Kat snuggled closer to the warmth in front of her, nestling her face into the hard, yet smooth surface. Her nose twitched and she slid her hand between her and the warmth-providing pillow, to brush her hair out of her face.

      She couldn’t move far with what felt like a tree branch draped across her back, holding her close and adding to the warmth. What was keeping her from moving? She opened her eyes to discover the source of her imprisonment.

      Darkness so intense she couldn’t see a scrap of light made her close her eyes and open them again. Was she dead? Panic shot through her like a lightning bolt. Had she gone blind? She shoved against the hard surface beneath her hands. The band around her waist shifted, tightening.

      She pushed up on her hands, straining against the band. “Help.” Her voice echoed as if in one of the large cathedrals of her homeland. “Where am I?” She fought to contain her terror. She had managed to stay alive based on sheer tenacity and by relying on her intelligence for the past two days. She couldn’t give up now. But why was it so incredibly dark? Where was she?

      “Shh.” A deep baritone rumbled in the darkness, the surface beneath her hands vibrating. Then she was rolled to her side. She recognized the band around her middle now as an arm as thick as a small tree trunk.

      Her heart slammed against her ribs. Had he caught up with her? Was she his prisoner? “Who are you? Where am I? Am I blind?” Her hip brushed against what could only be a man’s… “Oh my god, you’re not wearing any clothes!” She pounded against his chest, her feet banging against his shins.

      “Slow down.” The voice rumbled again, bouncing off the walls of the room they were in. “I’m not going to rape you, woman. Let me turn on the light.”

      With his one arm still holding her around her middle, he reached above his head. Cold air slipped across her skin, sending wave after wave of chills over Katya. She shook so hard her teeth rattled against each other.

      Metal clinked against stone, then a click, and light bounced off what looked like rock walls.

      Relief filled her as her eyes adjusted to the muted lighting. She wasn’t blind. Light beamed across the room, dispelling the terrifying darkness. Then as quickly as the relief filled her it fled. She couldn’t move, trapped against the man’s chest and cocooned in a bag. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she fought it, taking deep, steadying breaths.

      The man’s other arm slipped back into the interior of the bag, pulling the gap closed, blocking the chilled air from leaking inside.

      Despite her terror at being held captive, she didn’t want to die of exposure. Until she learned more about the man she lay next to, she’d do well to appreciate the warmth and gather her strength if she had to fight for her life.

      “How do you feel?” the man asked.

      “Cold. Incredibly cold. And frankly, a little scared.”

      “You should be scared, but not of me. You almost died of exposure. You’ll probably feel cold for a long time.”

      Her teeth chattered as she tried to form questions. “What happened? Why are we in this bag together?”

      “I found you under a snowdrift by the river and brought you here to warm you. I only had one bag, so you had to share with me.”

      Her face burned. She stared around at the rock walls surrounding her. “Where are we?”

      “In a cave.”

      “In what country?”

      The man frowned. “The U.S., of course.” No of course about it. She’d been racing across the country for two days, never on a straight route, always varying her direction, hoping to shake the man following her. If the man currently holding her captive was one of the people after her, they could be practically anywhere. She took a deep breath before asking her next questions. “Who are you? Who do you work for?”

      “Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “You’ve been asking all the questions. It’s my turn. Who are you?” His deep, resonant voice filled the inside of the cave with its ruggedness.

      Katya hesitated. His avoidance of her question didn’t set her mind at ease. She didn’t know who she was dealing with and trusted no one with her identity. Especially after what had happened in Minneapolis. She’d been on the road ever since, until she’d been forced to ditch her car and steal a snowmobile. “Am I still in the Badlands?”

      “Yes, ma’am. The Badlands of North Dakota, to be exact.”

      “My name is Kat,” she said tentatively. At least she wasn’t lying. Kat was only part of her name, but people she’d gone to school with in Minneapolis had used it as her nickname. “Kat Evans.” Evans was an out-and-out lie. Hard lessons had taught her not to give out truth until she knew where she stood. Especially with the colossal accusation of terrorism hanging over her. Homeland Security, Customs and Border Protection, the FBI and every law enforcement agency would be on the lookout for her.

      She squirmed against his body, extremely aware of her bare skin rubbing against his bare skin. He was completely naked and she was practically naked herself, except for her bra and panties. “Oh, my!” She tried to scoot away from him, hampered by the close confines of the bag they both occupied. A waft of icy air scraped across her body and she found herself pressing against his skin to re-create the warmth she’d felt a moment before.

      “Sorry. You weren’t awake for me to ask permission. In these temps, skin to skin is best to bring up body temperature the fastest. Yours was bordering on death.”

      After straining for a minute to keep from leaning into his chest, she gave up and let her cheek rest against the hard muscles of his smooth chest. “Well, then, I guess I should thank you for saving my life.”

      He chuckled. “Please, don’t strain yourself with your gratitude.”

      With nowhere else to put her hands, she rested them against