Page 10 of Bad Rio

“Don’t go smelling my hair ... or my ... anything.”

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “In this place, we’re sorta up close and personal. Can’t really help it. Hungry?” Once again, he held out a blueberry muffin. While it looked tempting, she had a more immediate need.

“Actually, I, uh, need to answer nature’s call.”

“Gotta pee?”

She frowned. “Yes.” Did the man have any social graces at all?

“Put on your pants and shoes. I’ll take you outside. You’ll go in the trees.”

She sighed. Indoor plumbing, it seemed, was only a dream, a luxury. “Great.” Just what she wanted to do,go in the trees.

The air outside was even colder than she’d imagined. Drifting snowflakes landed on her sweatshirt, on her nose. The ground was more than lightly dusted. A good four inches crunched under her loafers. Her toes already felt like ice cubes. The shivering began instantly.

In the light of day, she noticed the shack had been built in the middle of a dense copse of trees, making it unrecognizable from only yards away. If one didn’t know where it was, the hut would be nearly impossible to find. At least that was comforting.

Rio led her some thirty yards away, pointed at a thatch of underbrush, and strode off. As quickly as possible, Becca did her business and hurried back to him. All she wanted now was to climb into bed again and warm up. From the activity, the wound on her leg ached. She limped the last few steps through the snow.

Back inside, and behind her, Rio barred the door. As Becca resumed her place on the bed, the sound of the heavy wooden latch swinging down held the bang of finality. She clutched her coffee. In a very real sense, she was trapped in the middle of a frozen forest, inside this small room with an unknown entity. She eyed him nervously.

Before facing her, he shrugged out of his coat again and placed the gun back on the table. His fingers went to the hem of his t-shirt and he pulled it over his head.

Becca gasped. Now half naked, he was even more intimidating. His shoulders, pectorals, and abdominal muscles were developed and sculpted. A thin line snaked over his belly, a scar. Heat and power emanated off him in waves.

He returned her gaze. His expression held no humor, no emotion. His blue eyes pinned her. “Scared?”

Chapter Four

“Of course I’m scared,” Becca snapped at Rio. Her brown eyes blazed. “I don’t know you, who you are, what you’ll do. I’m trapped here. Any sane woman would be frightened out of her wits.”

Suddenly Rio felt his temper rise. “If you’re frightened of me, you’ve got your villains mixed up.” He pointed to the door. “It’s those assholes out there you’d better worry about. Think I was kidding when I told you at least half of their kidnap victims are killed before the money is paid? If they feel like making a point, or getting revenge for some wrong imagined, they’ll gut you. They’ll cut your head off and hang your mutilated body from a highway overpass. It’s a warning to others—don’t mess with the cartel.” With angry movements, he rummaged in his canvas bag until he found a new t-shirt and pulled it over his head.

Most of the time the people Rio was tasked to protect were terrified, but they could at least think somewhat rationally. They knew their best chance would be to cooperate with him, not figurehewas the enemy. He cast Becca a dark glance.

Lord save him from shallow, illogical females.

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