Title: Rescuing Callie

Author: Sunni

Category: Adult Het. It is set in the ATF/AU which was created by MOG to whom I

bow and  offer praise and thanks for letting me play there.

Pairing: Chris/OFC

Archive: yes

Disclaimer: The show Magnificent Seven and those wonderful characters
are not mine....nor will they ever be. It's only in my fantasy's do I get to play with them.

<sigh> You all know who they belong to and I will never make any money off of them.

Rescuing Callie

Chris was enjoying time off, camping and hiking in the Montana
wilderness. He had just started to relax, as much as he could, when
his cell phone rang, breaking into his solitude. Swearing under his
breath, he dug it out of his backpack, muttering dire threats at
whoever was idiotic enough to disturb him.
"Larabee"

"Chris, it's Orin Travis, we have a situation and I need you to
intercede now."

Chris made a face, and reminded the former judge that he was at least
a two-day hike away from a road heading to civilization.

"I know that, and you are the only one who can help," the Judge
informed him. "Callie Reardon, Senator Reardon's only daughter, was
kidnapped and our information shows that they are holding her
somewhere near where you are."

"Who's holding her, Judge?"

"A terrorist group called the `Dark Order."
Chris swore, Victor Chialton led the Dark Order group. The team had
been trying for months to get something on him. But he always seemed
to be a step ahead of them.

DA Travis continued, "Here are the coordinates to the cabin she is being held…"

XXXXXXXXX

"I'm not dead."
The observation squeaked through the parched ache in Callie's throat
as she woke up. She tried to reach up to massage the bruised tissue
at her neck, but several of wide gray duct tape bound her wrists to
the arms of warped hardwood chair. Like a condemned woman strapped
for a primitive electrocution, her wrists and ankles had been taped
to the arms and legs of chairs. She had no fear of being
electrocuted, though. The ramshackle, one-room cabin where she'd
spent the night hadn't seen electricity or running water for years –
if ever.

She breathe in deeply and winced at the burning in her chest.
Combined with the rapid pounding inside her head, her achy body felt
as though a Mack truck had hit her.

"Good morning, Miss Reardon."

Callie's senses snapped to full alert at the crisply articulated greeting.

Her kidnapper lounged across the room from her in a battered recliner,

one leg draped carelessly over the arm of the chair.

"Where are we? What time is it?" She squinted though the shadows,
trying to bring his face into focus. Who are you?

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Victor Chialton, the man who
will determine if you are to live or die." "I will contact your
Father when the time is right and he will pay me what I want to get
you back…if not, then you will disappear."

Callie sank back into her chair, unable to ward off the chill that
assailed her. Every bruise and scrape on her arms cried out, a tiny
voice reminding her who she was and what she was suppose to be.
Senator Gerald Reardon's little girl. She was simply a pawn in this
madman's game. Not Callie. Not a woman. Not even a human being.

A pawn.

The first sting of tears polled in her eyes. She turned her chin into
her shoulder, not wanting to give Chialton the satisfaction of seeing
her succumb to fear.

When she heard his footsteps on the dry, warped floor, she quickly
blinked and tried to erase any signs of crying. With the tip of his
finger he touched the point of her chin and traced a line around the
curve of her jaw. She cringed at the provocative touch. Violence
encased in butter-soft leather was still violence. Her chest rose and
fell in quick, panicked breaths.

"Is something not to your liking?" he asked.

Standing this close she could smell musk and sweat. He'd been
living outdoors for a few days, apparently away from any resembling
soap and water. She gritted her teeth against the smell, and tried
not to squirm beneath his scrutiny.

Callie searched for a comeback that would make him remove his
hand and gaze and smell, but not trigger his anger. Since she
couldn't ask for her freedom, she decided to try for the next best
thing. Escape. But she had no chance at that unless she could get
free from the chair. The full discomfort of her bladder suddenly
felt like a blessing.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

He took his hand away and gestured around the cabin. "Do you see a
bathroom?"

"I'm not proud, I can go behind a bush outside."

"Not too proud?" He laughed, a mocking, derisive sound. "I never
thought I would hear that from a Reardon. Very well. I will take you."
He pulled a long, sharp knife from his belt and slipped it between
the bottom of her left wrist and the chair. With just the slightest
shift in position, he could slice her veins wide open. Callie held
her breath, she wasn't free yet.

But he flicked the blade neatly though the tape, releasing her arm.
As she flexed her fingers to bring circulation back into her hand, he
snatched the loose end of tape stuck to the top of her arm and ripped
it off, taking hair and skin with it.

"Ow!" she screamed, instinctively dragging her arm into her chest
to protect herself from further pain. Purplish red welts immediately
showed on the top of her wrist.

"I'm sorry," he mocked. "Did I hurt you?"

He then repeated the same sadistic release on her other arm. He
leather boots protected her ankles from a similar fate, however, so
she was able to stand without too much difficulty. Walking out the
door ahead of him proved a greater challenge however. She lurched to
the door and stumbled down unto the gravel outside. Once outside she
could see that the dilapidated cabin had once been a pioneer's
homestead or a miner's shack. An area around the house had been
cleared of the brush and undergrowth that covered any path or road
that might indicate the way off of the small rise.

Callie rubbed her hands up and down her arms, adjusting to the damp
morning chill, then made an easy decision. Anyplace was better then
here! When she got the chance, she would simple take off. It couldn't
be more then twenty yards to the woods; she could easily lose
Chialton once there. Then she would figure out how to find her way
out to civilization.

He motioned her toward a shoulder-high stand of scrub pine. She
glanced at him before turning her back on him…"Do you mind?" she asked,

unhooking her belt.

"Yes. I know what you are thinking. I will not take my eyes off of you."

The blood rushed from her head down to her feet. Callie wondered if
her shock at the accuracy of his guess reflected on her face. So much
for escape. Holding onto the little dignity he'd left her, she dropped her

jeans and took care of business, feeling the blush of embarrassment flood

heat into her cheeks. But while she zipped her jeans, a new opportunity

presented itself. The pocket of his coat chirped with a telltale ring. A cell

phone! And if it was ringing, they must be nearer to civilization then she

thought. Callie slowed her movements and took great care to snap her jeans

and fasten her belt all the while watching Chialton. The instant he turned

his face into the phone, Callie took off running. She dashed though the bushes

and clambered up and over a pile of rock before she heard the rapid fire of

bullets behind her. Either he was a lousy shot, or he wasn't really aiming for her.

Somehow she doubted it was the former.

"Stop her!"

Chialton's command made no sense to her. But she'd hit the low brush now and

hurdled a shrub, closing on the tree line. More shots jarred her eardrums. The

bullets hit the earth beside her feet causing Callie to stumble before regaining

her balance. She pulled off short as another man, taller then Chialton emerged

from the woods, holding a gun pointed directly at her. Callie heard her own

startled breath rasp in her lungs. She changed directions, splitting the difference

 between the two men and ran the way she ran in high-school track. She pulled

away from her pursuers, hearing the static of bullets, coming close but

miraculously missing her. She could see the big trees now, rushing closer.

She put her hands up in front of her face and shoved her way though a stand of
baby pines….smack into the hard unyielding chest of a third man,
dressed all in black…..

"Ms. Reardon?"

His deep, raspy voice didn't have an accent as Chialton. He was
clearly American. Standing so close, she had nowhere else to look but
at the controlled flex and give of his broad chest beneath his jacket
and wool turtleneck. He smelled different then Chialton too. Clean.
Leathery. She tipped her chin and looked up at him. "Who are you?"

"Relax, ma'am. I'm here to rescue you."

He had her full attention now.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head.

"Let's go," he ordered turning toward the high ground and obviously expecting

her to follow. When he glanced back however, she was standing where he

had left her.

Sighing he returned to where she stood.

"I thought….I'm sorry…it's just you're dressed like the others…do
you have any ID?"

Chris allowed himself one choice succinct curse.

He dropped his face down to her level and articulated each word so
she would understand. "We are twenty yards from Victor Chialton and
his hired help. Do as I say right now, or you won't get the opportunity to ask

another question."

She puffed up like a wounded debutante who was about to run off and
tell Daddy what the mean old man had dared to say to her. Chris
stared her down. His menacing silence brooked no argument. After a
charge moment, her shoulder drooped and her chin fell to a subdued
angle.

Finally, she'd do as he said.

She followed his lead and crouched behind him when he moved to the
edge of the rocks and knelt down to spy though the brush and locate
the two other patrol guards he had spotted earlier.

But the silence was too precious to last. He felt a tap on her
shoulder before her warm breath whispered into his ear. "What about
my Father? Does he know I am here? Did he send you to rescue me?"

Chris looked over his shoulder and stared at her in disbelief.
"There is a time to run, a time to fight and a time to shut up."

He held her gaze until he was sure she understood which time this
was. Though he was learning pretty quickly not to trust her silence,
he couldn't afford to waste any more time. He had to get them out of
there. NOW.

He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and held his gun
with both hands in front of him. He stilled his breathing and
concentrated on the sounds of the night around him. The darkness
would be their ally but he had to time their dash across the open
terrain with the sweeping currents of cloud cover. The moon would be
hidden for only a few seconds, but that would be all the time they…
The snap of a twig jarred him. He pushed Callie back against the
rock, shielding her body with his, automatically covering her mouth
with his hand.

A guard walked by them apparently searching for Callie. Chris
considered taking him out; he could do it in a matter of seconds. But
he couldn't trust Callie to follow his orders without an argument.
When the sound of the guard's footsteps faded, Chris eyed the sky
and counted off his own internal clock. The time to move was now, or
they would never reach the old mining road in time. The plan he had
made with the team was for him to reach the rendezvous point and
radio his contact to pick them up. If he couldn't reach the site in
time, he would proceed to plan B.

"This is the time to run."

Gambling their lives on her cooperation, he released her and scooted
to the farthest end of the rocks. "Stay right behind me." She was already

clinging to the back of his jacket when he turned and gave his next command.

"Don't fall down."

Ignoring the furious look on her face, he took her hand and sprang to his feet.

Keeping low he sprinted for the trees, drawing Callie along with him. After

only a few steps she extended her legs to match his stride and Chris quickly

realized that he had no need to compensate for her speed, she very nearly

outdistanced him! They had barely reached the cover of the trees when

they were spotted.

Three shots fired, followed by shouts back and forth in Chialton's native language.

Once inside the tree line, Chris shifted direction and headed up
the mountain. He felt the jerk of Callie's arm at his sudden change
of course. But within moments she fell into step beside him again. He
found the path he had marked earlier. It led to a boarded up mine
shaft. The slope got steeper by several degrees and Chris leaned
forward in order to take the climb without breaking his pace.

"Where are we going?" Callie's breathy query broke the silence just
as he released her hand to leap across a three-foot-wide crevasse
that split the path.

He paused and turned, waiting for her to make the same jump. Instead she

balked on the other side. Her chest rose and fell, breathing deeply, in time

with his own strained breath.

Chris swore as she planted her hands on her hips and demanded a
response. "I asked where you are taking me."

He had no time to explain the plan to her, yet he spared her an answer

before turning his attention to the zigzagging climb to the top of the crest.

"Away from Chialton."

They were at least ten minutes away from the rendezvous; he had to cut time

somewhere. He hit the trail at a faster pace and heard her make the leap behind him.

Good, she was moving.

"That wasn't much of an answer."

"Don't talk, save your breath."

A heaver tread in the underbrush below caught their attention. Chialton's men

had found the trail.

"Is that…"

"Move it."

He went back to grab her hand and pull her along at his speed. They
doubled back on a hairpin turn and she slipped on some loose gravel.
She went down hard on her knees and left hand but, with his help, was
able to regain her footing. A tear in her jeans indicated that she had probably

cut her knee, but they had no time to stop and play doctor.

"Hang in there, Ms. Reardon."

He wasn't a big one for offering encouragement, but he needed her to
keep up. The brightness of the moon was working against them. It's
iridescent light creating deceptive shadows that assailed them from
all directions, playing havoc with Chris's internal compass. But he
knew the mineshaft should be close….almost straight above them.
There! Changing his strategy, Chris pulled out night-vision goggles
and slipped them on. He went to the steep sheer slope that went
straight up to the top of the plateau. Looking up, he saw that a few
small trees managed to cling to the rocks. And traces of abandoned
birds' nests indicated tiny ledges and crannies. About twenty feet to
the top. The drop off below them was another hundred feet or so. But
with Chialton's men closing in, he decided they had no choice.

Callie tugged at his jacket, pointing toward the men coming up the path.

"Hello, Mr. Spaceman. Bad guys coming."

Chris wrapped his hands around her slender waist and lifted her off the path.

"What are you doing?"

He set her toes on a four-inch ledge, and she automatically grabbed hold of the

tree root in front of her face so she wouldn't all.

"Climb."

With his greenish night vision though the goggles showing him the way,

Chris guided Callie's hands to the sturdiest grips and slowed his pace to make

the climb beside her. He changed his grip to her shoulder to keep her from

moving when Chialton and his men ran past directly under their feet. Chialton

was shouting orders at his men in his native tongue as they continued up the

winding path that would take them farther away from Callie and Chris. They

would reach the top at about the same time, but Chris would be closer to the road,

leaving him with a slight advantage.

He urged Callie to continue climbing.

"Do you know what they were saying?" she asked.

Damn but this woman loved to talk.

"Chialton doesn't want you dead."

"That's nice."

"He does, however, want me dead."

"Not so nice, hmmmmmm?"

A third of the way from the top she slipped when the root she grabbed
came off in her hand. Chris was able to grab her by the wrist to keep
her from falling. She cried out in pain, but quickly turned her face into

her upraised arm to muffle the sound.

Chris bided his time while she hugged the rock, alternately wanting
to hurry her along and to ask what he had done to hurt her.

"Callie?"

Silence. Maybe by now she was too weak and frightened to answer.

After a moment she wrapped her fingers around a more secure grip
and pulled herself to the next ledge. When the reached the end of the
steep shortcut, he hoisted himself up and over to the top of the
plateau. He was winded but reached out to pull Callie up beside him.

She rolled over the top edge and curled into a ball, her energy
totally spent. Her breathing came in shallow gasps that echoed in the
night air. He needed to quiet her down, Chialton and his men would be
nearby. But when he knelt behind her and touched her shoulder, she
winced. Then she pulled her hands into her waist and curled up even
tighter, making it impossible to assess her condition.

She clearly needed time to rest before she could go any further. He listened

for the sound of Chialton's men and decided he could give her a minute.

"Stay here."

A nearby break in the trees hid the entrance to the boarded up mine shaft.

Chris pried off the board at the button, tossing it aside. He reached in and

pulled out a black nylon duffle bag he had hidden in there. Then he pulled out

his knife to loosen the nails of the next board. He was pulling loose the third

board when he heard a soft voice at his shoulder.

"Are we going in there?"

Chris rose to his feet and turned, unable to believe that Callie had come up

from behind him undetected. Not an easy feat for a man trained in covert

experience to do…the irony that this talkative amateur being able to do it

wasn't lost on him.

She huddled in her thin blue, short sleeve sweater, looking cold and exhausted.

That distracting urge to protect tickled into his thoughts again.

Chris pushed aside his impulse to swallow her up in his arms and warm
her with his own body heat. He didn't time to deal with the hostage's needs

right now. He had to get her to freedom and time was running out.

"No." He reached out and took her by the arm, more gently this time,
and led her up the rise to the top of the shaft. "Decoy."

"So Chialton will think we've gone in there?"

She crouched behind the rocks where he pointed.

"I hope. Stay here."

He slid back down the slope to grab his bag and cover their trail. When he

returned, he held out his hand to help her to her feet. She studied his hand

with the same trepidation she might use if he'd stuck a gun in her face.
"It's not much further."

Distance wise, he spoke the truth. But he couldn't promise that Chialton and

his men would make it an easy trip.

Her shoulders lifted with a determine sigh and she reached up to fold
her hand into his. The ground was flatter up here. Still rocky and
dotted with trees, it provided less cover, but they were able to
travel faster. Chris broke into a loping run and once again, Callie
kept pace with him. When they reached the road, they ducked behind a
pile of decaying tree trunks that had burned and fallen to the ground
in a recent forest fire. Callie leaned back against the wood and
seemed to concentrate on her breathing while Chris pulled a two-way
radio from his pack and called in.

"The hawk has his prey. Repeat. The hawk has his prey. Over"

A blip of static answered, then cleared.

"Understood. Hawk's nest on the move. Out."

"I don't think I like being referred to as prey." She was still
breathing in quick shallow breaths, but her voice sounded
stronger. "Chialton's a smart man, you know. That's not much of a
code for him to break."

"He's going to have us in his line of sight any minute now, he
doesn't need to eavesdrop."

Preparing for that certainly, Chris pulled out his gun checked the
clip and reloaded it. In the light from the moon he saw those
quicksilver eyes of hers pool up like sauces.

But was it the gun or Chialton's' imminent arrival that frightened her?

"Is there something I should do?" She whispered.

"Shh."

"Of course. Always with the shush thing."

Thankfully, she settled beside him and did her brooding in silence.
No doubt thinking of the next line of questions she wanted to ask.

Chris squeezed his eyes shut. Fatigue was starting to tell in the
protest of his muscles as he knelt behind the cover of the trees. But
his senses were working just fine. He fine-tuned his ears and
listened for the crunch of footsteps in the underbrush.
He heard the order to spread out and widen the search first.
Chialton hadn't taken long to discover his ruse, and was closing in
fast. Chris opened his eyes to check his watch. Their ten-minute wait
was now twelve. "Where are you?" He breathed the urgent wish between
clenched teeth.

Right on cue, the roar of a four-wheel drive engine echoed though
the rocks of the plateau. But Chialton heard it too.

A black pickup topped the crest and bounced down the mining road
toward their position.

"There he is." Callie popped up and pointed at the truck.

"GET DOWN!" He palmed the top of her head and pushed her down to the
ground just as the first bullets hit.

The rapid fire of semiautomatic weapons flashed like fireworks in the
darkness. Chris braced his elbow on one of the fallen trees, took aim
and fired at each burst of light. He hit his mark. The flash fire of one weapon

sank to the ground, but the others kept firing. The squeal of breaks behind

him gave him a small measure of reassurance. "Larabee, get in!"

Chris grabbed his bag, pulled Callie up by the arm and pushed her
toward the open door of the truck.

"Go! Go! Go!" he ordered.

The driver stomped on the accelerator. Callie had climbed in,
headfirst. Chris flattened his hand on her butt, pushed her across
the seat and tossed his bag in. The wheels spun on the gravel and
dirt, giving him time to get his feet on the running board before it
sped away. Clinging to the open door with his left hand, Chris turned
and fired at their pursuers.

A spray of gunfire hit the truck.

Bing. Bang. Thunk.

The truck lurched and Chris fell inside. They had hit the back window,

shattering it.

"Gun it!"

Callie sat in the middle of the bench seat, bushing broken glass from
her shoulders.

"You hit?" he asked, keeping his eye on the side-view mirror calculating

the distance before they'd be out of range of Chialton's weapons.

"No."

The truck continued to pick up speed.

"Chris"

Callie's fingers dug into his thigh.

"Chris!"

"What?"

He pried her grip from his leg, and then looked to see why she had cried

out his name.

The driver was slumped forward. A tiny hole leaking bright red blood from

the back of his head. He was dead.

Callie was horrified – she was crunched in the front seat of a truck between

a mad man and a dead man.

And the dead man was driving.

Chris leaned across her and grabbed him by the shoulder. When he pulled him

back, the body's limp fingers released from the steering wheel.

"His foot's still on the gas pedal. Grab the wheel."

Grab the wheel?

It wasn't that she didn't understand what he wanted her to do; she just

wasn't sure she had the desire to do it.

"Callie!"

Fine. Nothing like an order in that low-pitched growl to make her
kick it into gear.

She wedged her shoulder between the dead man and the steering wheel
and took hold. Chris leaned his body down across her lap and reached
under the dashboard. The engine whirred in protest and the truck
immediately dropped speed.

"What are you doing down there?"

He grabbed her left ankle and placed it on the accelerator.

"Drive."

For a few minutes she simple acted on instinct, pressing down on the
accelerator and trying to gauge the curves in the road ahead of her
from her vantage point. With Chris pinning her legs she couldn't push
herself up any higher. And with Mr. Dead man's weight on her
shoulder, she was stooped beside the wheel, looking between it and
the dash to guide them over the dark road. Suddenly realizing that
she was driving down an unfamiliar mountain road at a high rate of
speed, Callie moved her foot to hit the brake, and slow them down,
but Chris moved it back to the gas pedal.

"Don't stop."

"But…."

"Drive."

He then reached across her and opened the driver's side door.

"Oh No! You can't do that!"

But he already had. He sat up, latched onto her arm to hold her in
place, and shoved the dead man out the door.

The body hit the ground with a horrible thud and Callie couldn't
help but look into the mirror, just in time to see the body roll onto
the side of the road.

"I can not believe you just did that!"

"Callie!"

All at once his hands were covering hers on the wheel. He cranked it
a quarter turn to the left, crushing her fingers with his grip.

Boulders, that had probably been there for untold millennia rushed
up at them with frightening speed. She stomped on the brakes, but
with gravel and speed working against them they had few options.
Chris wrapped his arms around her, turning so his body shielded her
from the impact. The truck spun out of control and slammed with a
deafening crunch into the rocks.

Chris's body lurched forward, and then crushed her against the seat.

And then all was still.

Callie slumped within the cocoon of Chris's body until she could hear

something other then the drumming of her own heart.

His weight on her chest didn't stir. "Larabee?"

She flattened her hands at the front of his chest and pushed to get some

space between them. She felt the reassuring tattoo of his heartbeat beneath

her hand, but needed to see his face to find out if he was injured. He was a

bigger man then she expected. She felt his solid muscles as she ran her hands

over his chest and body. She took a deep breath and, putting her weight into it,

managed to push him onto the seat next to her.

His eyes were closed.

Paniced, she touched her fingers to his parted lips. His regular breathing

warmed her fingertips but did little to reassure her. "Chris?"

She climbed on her knees in the seat to get to eye level with him.
Then, cupping his face with her hands, shook him gently. "Chris?
C'mon big guy. Wake up."

The rasp of his beard growth tickled her palms, sending inappropriate shivers of

awareness though her. Great, she thought, while my body is reacting to him, he

seems totally oblivious to mine! She sat back, wondering if Chialton had heard

the crash and how far away he was.

Her pulse quickened with renewed urgency. This big brute was her only ticket

off this mountain, he had to be okay.

"Chris." She called his name right into his ear and gave him a
light slap on the cheek. "Damnit, will you.."

Faster then the panic that was rising in her, his eyes popped open.

He snatched her by the wrists and twisted her flat on her back in the seat

with his larger body trapping her there.

Callie's breath whooshed out in a startled gasp. She stared up into
eyes that were dark green and filled with deadly intent.

"Chris?"

His eyes narrowed as his gaze traced the shape of her face, lingered on her

neck, then seem to fix on the small jut of her breasts. To her horror, she felt

 the tips tighten into little pebbled beads beneath the intensity of that look.

Pinned beneath his crushing weight, she felt more exposed then when she

wore a bikini at the beach.

"Um…are you ok"

His eyes darted back up to her mouth, drawn to the movement there.

And then he blinked.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, then groaned aloud.
He released one of her wrists and touched the back of his skull. The
succinct curse he released told her just how much it hurt.

"I took a blow to the head and things when fuzzy for a moment. I'll
be alright."

"That's nice…uhhhhhh, you're hurting me, you know."

As quickly as he had pinned her to the seat, he released her and
scooted to the far end of the cab. It was almost embarrassing to see
how fast he moved away from her.

Callie sat up slowly, rubbing her sore wrists and nursing wounded pride.

"Did I do that?!"

The ugly purple welts were suddenly visible in the moons glow and Chris

stared at them horrified, thinking he had inflicted them on her.

She found the energy to summon a smile, "No." He'd saved her life.

Her smile faded with the memory of Victor Chialton and what he had
done to her.

"It's from the tape they used to tie me up. Chialton thought
inflicting a little pain would teach me my place."

Chris said nothing, but she could feel the atmosphere in the truck
change. Agent Larabee had returned and he wasn't pleased to hear of
her mistreatment.

"Let's get you home." He tried to get out, but the door was jammed.

Callie obeyed his silent command and climbed out the open door on her
side ahead of him. Pulling his bag out of the truck behind him, Chris
opened it to retrieve a folded piece of paper and flashlight. When he
knelt down and unfolded it, she saw that it was a map.

"Can't we just drive out of here?" she begged.

Chris pointed to the large pool of liquid leaking from the engine and
shook his head. Radiator is gone, even if we could get it started, it
wouldn't go far. He folded up the map and stuffed it back into his bag.

"Great."

"Let's go." He slung the bag over his shoulder and headed up into the
woods to the east.

"What's your plan now?"

"Call in. We're safe for now. We'll set up another meet for tomorrow."

She spread her arms out wide and called his attention to the trees,
rocks and nothingness around them.

"Exactly where do you think we are going to spend the night?"

"If my map is right, there should be an old prospector's cabin about
two miles on the other side of that ridge. You up for a hike?"

"Do I have any choice?"

He was already walking. "No."

"You really like those one-word sentences, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Yes?" She repeated under her breath. Was that a joke – or merely a
stated fact?

Callie shook her head and pushed her weary body into step behind his.
She still had another two miles to figure out Chris Larabee.

"So, what goes on inside that head of yours?" Callie asked

Lost in his thoughts, her soft voice startled him. Lord but this woman liked

to talk! And he still had nothing to say to her. So he ignored her and kept

on walking.

Her frustrated sigh reached his ears just seconds before, "You give a new

meaning to the cliché, `strong, silent type,' you know that?"

Chris continued to walk.

"So do you do this much? You know, run around, shooting your gun…
rescuing damsels in distress…?"

Now how did he respond to that?

Maybe he should say something about her grit. Her class-act determination.

She hadn't complained about her injuries, though she had to be in pain.

Not once. Instead he commanded, "come on, the cabin is just up ahead."

When they reached the cabin, Chris entered first and scanned for
signs of unwanted tenants and wildlife. Luckily the cabin was unoccupied

and seemed secure. The temperature was dropping rapidly outside as the

night deepen into midnight and Callie didn't have a long sleeve shirt on.

He heard her boots on the boards that passed for the front porch and turned

toward her. "It looks sound enough. None of the windows are broken.

There isn't any furniture, but we can make do on the floor."

She pushed past him and inspected the small place herself.

"As long as the roof doesn't leak and I can warm myself up, I'll be happy."

Chris closed the door and dropped his bag to the floor. She had
already crossed to the fireplace and dropped to her knees to brush
away the cobwebs and crumbling bits of plaster and charred wood.

"We can't build a fire."

The shock on her face made him feel like he had just informed her
that there was no Santa.

"No fire?"

"Chialton could spot the smoke."

She didn't reply, just sat there, looking small and defenseless.
Chris busied himself with covering the window with his spare shirt,

lighting a lantern before pulling out two granola bars and a water bottle

out of his bag.

"Here, eat this before we go to sleep."

"Thanks."

When she turned his way toward the light, he swore. The dark imprint

of a man's hand discolored the right side of her face, the marks standing

out on her creamy skin like a crude attempt at finger painting. She took a

step back, startled by his curse. "What's wrong?"

"He did more then hurt your wrists, the son of a bitch." He fished
some aspirin out of his bag and handed it to her before pulling out
alcohol swabs and antibiotic ointment. Then he spread a tarp on the
floor and told her to sit down so he could doctor her injuries. He
could sense her fatigue because her arguments didn't last for long.
Finally she crossed her legs like a ballerina and folded to the floor
to sit, pretzel-style, on the tarp.

Chris brought the lantern over closer to illuminate his work.

Starting with her face, he cleaned her face. She had such fair skin.
As he pushed aside the golden red hair that fell in waves down past
her shoulders, he found a thick bruise across her neck. He recognized
the mark. She'd been choked into unconsciousness.

Damn Chialton, he raged. Taking a deep breath, he continued to tend

to her wounds. Then he turned away to clean up and put away his supplies.

When he turned back to her, he could see that she was half-asleep.

Sighing, he laid down, pulling her down to lie beside him and they

both drifted off to sleep.

XXXXX

`Wake up, Reardon."

Chris shook Callie by the shoulder and watched her curl up into a
ball in response. He felt less like a heel for waking her so early
when he heard her mutter, "Go away."

Great, she was mule-headed from the get go. Too bad, they still had
a day and a half hike ahead of them and there was no telling just how
close Chialton and his goons were. He couldn't afford any distractions

he told himself. He needed to concentrate on guarding against a dangerous

terrorist whose hostage he had stolen from under his nose. He had almost

forgot everything last night when Callie had moved in her sleep and he had

awaken to find her strong legs entangled in his. She'd stretched herself like

a cat and snuggled closer to him, using his body as both a bed and a blanket.

Her hair smelled like baby shampoo. He'd expected a more expensive type of

smell. But the sweetness of her scent, the unexpected reality of the woman

herself had all snuck around his defenses. He'd pressed his lips to the crown

of her glorious fire-gold hair before realizing what he was doing. It had taken

all his will power to bring his body under control. He wasn't going to let it

slip again. He was going to deliver her home, safe and sound.

He bent down and pulled his jacket away from Callie. "Wake up princess,

there is no limo outside waiting to take you home. You have to rise and

shine all by yourself."

Reluctantly, Callie pushed herself to a sitting position. "I see you got an `A'

in rudeness at spy training school." She pushed her hair out of her eyes and

tried to stretch some of the stiffness out of her neck and back.

"Is it even morning yet?"

He had already packed up the bag and reached for her hand to pull her upright.

"I radioed my people this morning."

She squinted toward the window, interrupting before he could finish

detailing their situation. "This isn't morning. I've seen morning.

It's a lot brighter then this."

The frosty puff of her breath reminded him that she wasn't wearing a jacket

and so he wrapped his around her shoulders, helping her to stuff her arms

in the sleeves and zipping it up for her. "Remind me to introduce you to

my friend Ezra, you two have a lot in common. Now, let's go"

"Go where?:

"We have a day's hike ahead of us."

Her slender body shivered inside his jacket. The cuffs hung past her
fingertips and the hem hit below her thighs. When she tipped her face
up to him, the soft early light touched her translucent skin. Chris
caught his breath at the vision before him. She looked so young and
fragile. So tempting. So vulnerable.
Fissions of lust reacted before he could control them. His blood
thickened in his veins. His skin heated as his lips parted for a
breath of air, for the chance to taste hers.

She dispelled that idea with the next words out of her mouth.

"So what incredible journey are you taking me on to day, Larabee?"

Her sarcasm kept him from forgetting his duty, kept him from
bending over and claiming those lips for his own. He slung his
duffle over his should and anchored it, so his gun hand was free.

"Taking you home. We need to move though and get to the top of this

mountain in order for a chopper to be able to reach us. And we need to

get moving before Chialton has the advantage of daylight to track us."

"Oh goody."

Following the gesture he made with his hand, she started out the door.

But instead of going out it, she turned. Surprise, surprise, the woman

had something she wanted to say.

"Thank you for being so kind to me last night."

Whatever she was hoping for from him, "Can we go now?" Was not it!

Her mouth dropped open to speak, but no words came. Taking advantage
of her rare silence, Chris took her by the elbow and guided her out into

the frigid mountain air.

What had happened to the nice guy from last night, the one who tended
her wounds and then held her so tenderly? Agent Larabee had returned
in full force this morning and Callie knew she liked the other one better.

She trudged along in his footsteps, placing one aching foot in front of the

other. She'd lost all sense of direction except one…up.
He seemed undaunted, setting the pace of a drill sergeant and had

explained his plan as thoroughly as a monk who'd taken a vow of silence.

Her slick-soled boots weren't made for mountaineering and she'd
slipped more then once on the smooth granite that formed their path.
The bottoms of her toes were starting to go numb. And a blister the
size of Texas itself had rubbed onto her right heel.

As the golden rays of the sun cut though the chilly morning air, Callie tried

once again to get the nicer Chris Larabee to come out and talk to her.

"Are we there yet?" she asked. Even if he didn't laugh at the old joke, maybe

he would be annoyed enough to stop and yell at her.

No answer.

Her foot hit a loose rock that rolled, making her heel smack the ground.

Callie gritted her teeth against the pain as the blister on her heel broke open

and her sock rubbed like sandpaper on the raw skin. She sank to one knee,

debating whether to scream her head off in frustration or throw a rock at

his big head.

Deciding she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of either,
\she grabbed the trunk of a sapling and pulled herself up and forward. Stepping

gingerly with her right foot, she concentrated on what she did best to avoid

thinking about the pain.

"Where did you buy that wool sweater?" she asked. "You've got that
whole black on black thing going, which is a little passé, but it
works on you. Saks, I'm guessing, they have a great men's department."

In her eyes, what made the sweater so wonderful was the way it
clung to all the bulges and hollows of his shoulders and arms like a
second skin. The design of the flat knit emphasized how his back
tapered to his trim waist. She'd been trailing that back for several
miles now, and had memorized how his black jeans fit him snug, but
not tight, cupping his rear with loving familiarity before expanding
to cover the flexing strength of his thighs. As her gaze lingered on
the masculine grace of his movements she suddenly felt flushed. Hot.

"Damn." She muttered out loud, feeling betrayed by her body's
reaction. She wanted to stay mad at Chris. She absolutely did not
want to be attracted to him. Trying to shake off the disquieting
thoughts, she returned to the easy distraction of her chatter,

"I take that back. A man like you wouldn't be caught dead in a department

store. That sweater's either Land's End or Eddie Bauer. Am I right?"

To her surprise, he stopped and turned. She braced herself for a scathing

comment or, in the very least, to be `shushed'.

But he didn't even act like he had heard a word she'd said. Taking
her hand he led her down a washed out ravine saying, "We'll cross
here." His strong, sure grip gave her the balance she needed to dodge
scrub pines and broken rocks. When they turned to resume their climb
he released her. "Even though we are exposed, we'll leave less of a  trail."

His simple statement went a long way in lightening Callie's mood.
Anxious not to let him return to his brooding silence she tugged at
the hem of that well studied sweater and stopped him. "There, was it
really that painful to have a normal conversation with me?"

A slight smile graced his face as he replied, "I'll talk when I have
something to say."

His low-pitched promise thrilled Callie and she smiled. Tilting her
face toward the sun, enjoying the warmth bathing her skin. It had
been days since she felt like smiling. "I feel better now, thanks."

When she looked up at Chris she was washed in an entirely different type

of heat. She had gotten admiring looks from men before, but no wink or

smile could compare to the intensity of the fire blazing in his eyes. But in an

instant, the blaze was gone…leaving Callie to wonder if she had imagined it.

Suddenly self-conscious she pulled her lip balm out and rubbed a thin coat

on her lips. Then she looked up at him and inquired, `shall we go?"

But Chris made no move. His eyes narrowed as he questioned, "I say a
few words and you feel better?"

"Funny how that works, isn't it?" Then, assuming that their course was up,

as always, Callie started the climb on her own. "C'mon, Larabee. I've got a

hot shower and hairdryer waiting for me at home."

"You're limping."

"No I'm not."

He clamped his fingers around her waist and tugged her to a standstill. "Sit."

"The sun is getting higher, we have to get moving."

He knelt in front of her, his left hand running up and down her leg,

squeezing at her ankle, her calf, her knee, her thigh..

Callie quickly touched his shoulder to stop his search. "It's just a blister."

"Why didn't you tell me –" Chris raised his head and their faces almost touched.

Callie froze. The warmth of his hands – at her thigh and wrist-rekindled

the fiery awareness of his tenderness and unquestionable power. What she

denied with the logical part of her brain was blazing into an overload of sensation.

He was so solid, hard and warm beneath her fingers. This close she could see

tiny lines of life crinkling beside his eyes. She wondered if laughter had formed

any of those creases. She breathed in and savored his clean, simple scent. He

wore no cologne or aftershave. When she exhaled, Chris's breath mingled with

hers and she swallowed hard. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to know

if his lips would be firm, or pliant. Hard and straight, or would they soften

when he kissed. Would he claim her, take her….or would he ask her to be

an equal partner in his embrace?

She felt herself falling. Falling into those incredible unique eyes
that seemed to change from green to gray to brown with his moods.

Eyes full of untold secrets. Dark, sexy and…

"We'll stop here."

Like diving into a mountain lake, Chris words brought her back to earth as

he sat her down. His words held a double meaning in her head, STOP drooling

on me. STOP being such a pain in the butt. The cold from the granite beneath her

seeped though her jeans, bringing her to her senses. She had practically thrown

herself at him. That whole kissing fantasy had gotten way out of hand. She

lectured herself, he is only here to do a job – get her home, that's it. Period.

"Sorry." Her breathy apology sounding inadequate. "I know, there's a time to run,

a time to hide, and a time to shut up. Apparently I am having a hard time keeping

those three straight."

Again he failed to get the joke.

Chris shrugged off his bag and dropped it on the ground beside her. "We made

good time today, we'll stay here tonight and then meet the `copter tomorrow.

There is a first aid kit in my bag. Fix up your blister while I check around. He

pulled his gun from its holster and popped out the clip, checked the bullets then

slipped it back in. "I'll be back in five minutes."

Callie nodded and then watched him stroll off with his long strides. He

shimmied up and over a rocky outcropping and disappeared from sight.

"That eager to get away from me, are you?" She sighed. She was tired of

trying to figure out Chris's moods and her reactions. She best concentrate

on something more productive. Like getting home alive. With that thought

she reached for the first aid kit in Chris's bag.


Chris made a quick trip around the perimeter of the clearing, waiting for the

tension in him to go away. Maybe it was the gentle scent of Callie's hair that

had him off-kilter. Or the hungry look in her eyes that had made him want to

kiss her a few minutes ago. No, devour her would be the better description of

the sudden heated urge that had consumed him. He'd wanted to taste each tiny

freckle on her. He checked his watch. He had just over 10 hours left to guard her.

He could last those 10 hours without giving in to the primitive urges of his body.

He would deliver her safely to her father, then go home, take a long cold shower

and sleep for two days. Yeah…he could make it.

Finding nothing to alarm him he started back to Callie, not holstering his gun but

holding it at his side. The five minutes of privacy he'd given her were up and

he wanted to get her out of sight. Then he could worry about how to survive

another night in her company without losing her mind.

Suddenly he found something that should have been there.

Half a footprint in the snow.

He held himself completely still, moving only his eyes, analyzing and

identifying the directions, size and age of the clue. His breathing was

controlled, silent.

"Callie" he mouthed, despairing that he might already be too late. Adrenaline

freed him from analysis to action and he took off at a dead run for where he

had left her, cursing himself for leaving her alone in the first place. Suddenly,

in front of him with her bright auburn hair shining in the sunlight was Callie.

"Reardon!"

Shouting was risky, if Chialton and his men had merely passed though,
he would be calling them back.

With a dramatic grunt she threw his bag at him and started in, "I know, I know.

I was longer then five minutes, but I thought you were coming back for me. And

what do you have in that bag…it weighs a ton. Are we making camp soon, my

feet are killing me…"

Damn that woman. She made more noise then anyone else he had ever
known. He reached her just as she opened her mouth again and clamped his

hand over it, rolling her with him onto the ground, ending with her under him.

"Not a word." Keeping her still, keeping her silent. "Understand?"

When she nodded, her eyes wide, he released her. She immediately
whispered, "What's going on?"

"Damnit Callie!"

And then he saw them. They came out of the tree line on either side of the

washout below them. He recognized Chialton. There were three more men with

him, carrying semiautomatic weapons and charging up the mountain at him.

"Larabee, get off me.."

He grasped her chin and turned it toward the men. Her body flinched into his

and he knew she saw them too.

"Now what do we do?"

Chris propped himself up on his elbows and used a millisecond to weigh his

options. Shoot or run? Not a big decision…they were out in the open.

Simple decision.

He rolled to his feet and dragged her up with him.

"Run!"

He shoved her toward the trees as, in one fluid motion, he aimed his gun at

Chialton's men and fired. Chialton's men were in the open as well. Easy

targets without cover. When one went down, Chialton shouted an order.

The others dived for cover, removing themselves from Chris's line of vision.

Having bought Callie a few precious seconds, he turned to follow her, snagging

up his bag along the way.

God, that woman could run. Something like pride, or maybe admiration gave

Chris a fleeting feeling of triumph. He pursued the flash of copper-gold hair

where it disappeared into the trees. A hail of bullets pummeled the ground at

Chris's as he hit the tree line. Why hadn't they fired before? Callie. They

wanted their hostage back in one piece. He, on the other hand, was expendable.

Branches slapped at his face and body as he raced toward Callie at full speed.

He knew they needed more time, more distance before stopping and establishing

a defensive position. His knees protested the punishing run after two hours of

steady climbing. His lungs burned as he deepened his breathing, trying to

compensate for the thinner air of this altitude. Just as easy as running and breathing,

he popped the spent clip out of his gun and tossed it. Without breaking his stride,

he slipped a new magazine from his pocket and shoved it in. Shift. Load. Turn. Fire.

"Chris –"

The clip of Callie's plea struck him right in the gut. They had her. Chris shifted

direction and ran straight for the clearing. Straight for the sound of Callie's voice.

One man had her. Sort of.

Chris almost grinned as he slowed to a walk and regained his breath. The

terrorist had cinched his arm around Callie's throat and was half dragging,

half caring her with him, making it impossible to keep his gun pointed at

her head. She was kicking, elbowing and punching her captor, refusing to surrender.

"Callie?"

Her beautiful eyes, darkened by fear, looked up and saw him. And flooded

with hope.

"Get back." The terrorist shouted in English as he trained his gun on
Chris. Then he pointed the gun back at Callie, unsure which target
provided a better defense.

His confusion would work to Chris advantage and, pushing aside his fears

for Callie's safety, he let a deadly calm fill him with renewed strength.

Yesterday he had taken her by stealth.

Today it would be by force.

He never even broke his stride. In fact, he lengthened every step. He couldn't

shoot, he might hit Callie. So he holstered his weapon.

"Get your hands off of her." Chris's low-voiced command bounced off
the rock walls.

"Get back!" Her captor retreated, taking Callie with him.

Chris just kept advancing; his eyes pinned on his opponent.

"Chris?"

For a single heartbeat of time, he slipped his gaze to hers and simply said,

"Fight him."

He saw a flash of white teeth and then heard a squeal of mortal pain.
She'd bitten her captor's hand. He released her and Callie ducked.
Before the man could hit her, Chris rammed him. Fist first. Knuckles to

forehead. The man crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

"Let's go."

Callie was already on her feet when Chris took her hand. They headed
down, away from the snow and the plateau. Chris turned off the main
path and jumped down a five-foot drop toward the western slope. They
needed to find a place to hide until time to meet the helicopter the next day.

He turned to help her down only to find her climbing down on her own.

Suddenly she slipped and sailed backward.

"Chris!"

"Hell."

It happened to fast for him to brace himself. As she flew past, he snagged

her beneath the arms and jerked her toward his chest. When she hit, his foot

slipped. He held onto the ledge for a precarious moment, but the weight of

two adults and gravity was just too much.

"Chris!!"

Her arms snaked around his neck. Chris turned his left shoulder into the rock

 and locked his right arm around her waist as the slid and bounced down the

 unforgiving wall of dirt and granite. He absorbed each jolt into muscle and bone,

shielding her from the brunt of their fall. As the ground rushed up to meet them,

he tried to turn. But it was too late. His feet hit the slick earth and flew out from

under him. They smacked into the cushion of dead grass and leaves and rolled

 together down the bank. A tangle of deadwood caught them and saved them from

a drenching in the ice-cold stream.

Chris lay there, stunned. Breathless. Body aching, eyes squeezed shut against the

swirling world of trees and sunlight above him.

"Chris?"

A tender caress stroked across his cheek. A quarry.

Chris gathered control of his spinning world and focused on that touch. As oxygen

returned to his lungs, he became aware of other touches. Long legs tangled with his,

his thigh wedge in a crevice of soft heat. A delicate weight sprawled across his chest,

punctuated by two small mounds pressing into him. A slender hand cupped his jaw

with strong, yet delicate fingers running concern along his cheekbone, hairline and

the arc of his ear.

"Chris?"

In the time it took him to open his eyes, he'd rolled over, pinning her on the bed

of leaves beneath him.

"Nothing's simple with you, is it?" he accused.

Her eyes expanded, darkened. He watched the play of surprise, relief, and

something akin to desperation dance across her face. Her hands swept down his

collar and balled in the front of his sweater. "I don't understand what you mean, I.."

"Shut up." The frustrated order came out on a husky whisper as he struggled

to regain his control.

She moistened her lips in a nervous gesture, and his gaze dropped to the

unconsciously erotic glimpse of her sweet tongue. Suddenly, Chris's entire

body was parched. Starved for just one taste of her.

Easing his weight onto his elbows, Chris lowered his mouth to hers. He

 lingered there a moment, simply touching her lips. He absorbed her taste,

her scent, her surprise. When she opened her mouth – to protest, no doubt – he

angled his head and sampled her unintentional offering. His tongue entered,

only to be met halfway by hers and they started an age-old duel.

Callie's pulse raced at the triumphant pleasure of his mouth claiming hers.

The sheer size, the mystery, the magic of Chris surrounded her and pulled her

 into a spell that robbed her of all thought. He stole the need from her and made

 it his own. Her breasts flattened against the thundering beat of his heart as he

held her close. His hands roamed her back, her sides, her bottom, making her feel

feminine and hot to the touch. Heartened by his strength, Callie held him closer,

wanting more. Needing this to be more then just reassurance or shared relief.

All too soon, he pulled away, leaving her heart hammering in her chest and her

lungs laboring for air. Her mind struggled to make sense of what was happening to her.

Chris, however, seemed to be suffering side effects at all from the kiss. He

bent down and retrieved his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. She had to

know what he was thinking, if he was thinking of anything at all.

"You were just trying to shut me up, huh?"

"No."

The possibilities behind that single word triggered the tingling all over again.

She pressed her lips together in an effort to control the sensation as she watched

him walk away. Sighing, she hurried to catch up with him as he stood beside

the steam a short distance away.

"How's your foot?"

Chris's question startled her, she had forgotten all about her blister, until he

brought it back to her attention.

"It hurts some, but I don't need crutches yet."

"You got another mile in you?"

Was that a challenge she heard? "I might. What do I get if I do?"

Chris grinned down at her. "A place to sleep and a ride home tomorrow morning."

A surge of renewed energy went though Callie.

"Lead on, Mon Captain" and she fell into step behind him as he walked
along the stream.

They had been walking for what seemed like hours when Chris finally came

to a stop. Callie was so tired that she didn't even notice he had stopped until

she ran into him. She caught his sweater in an attempt to keep from falling and

he looked down at her with concern.

"There is a small cave just ahead, do you see it? I am going to check it out

and then, if it's safe, we'll spend the night there."

Chris then headed up to the cave's entrance and paused a moment to shine his

flashlight in. Looking back to check on her, he nodded then disappeared into

the cave. He reappeared before she had time to get nervous and motioned her to

come, offering her a hand to climb up.

"It's small, but it will be fine for one night and it gets us out of
the elements." He told her, leading her inside.

He had already spread the tarp on the floor and had the flashlight set on end like

a lamp. Sitting her down, he removed her boots, massaging each foot and ankle as

he did. Then he dug in his bag and presented her with another granola bar.

"Sorry it's not more, but tomorrow you'll be home in time for breakfast."

Callie settled back against his chest and munched on the bar.

"This is fine, it's the company, not the food, that counts." She told him.

They were quiet for a while, eating their dinner and sharing the water bottle.

Callie thought back to his kiss, wondering what it had meant. She was
determined to break through his reserve, but she wasn't sure how. So
she resorted to the thing she did best…

" So what do you do in real life when you aren't rescuing damsels in distress?"

"I'm a ATF agent."

"Where?"

"Denver."

"I live in Denver too. Wow! Just think we could have passed each other before,

or sat next to each other at a movie, or _"

Chris couldn't stand it any longer and tipped her face up toward his. Growling,

"hush." He angled his head down and captured her mouth once again in his. The

kiss started slow, soft but soon heated up with a hunger that made fires in her blood

She turned into the kiss and pressed hard against his strong body, clinging to his

broad shoulders as the kiss deepened and became slow and hungry, devouring her

soft mouth. Her submissive moan made him wild. He pulled back to look at her as

he removed his weapon.

"Tonight is just you and me…I am not on the job."

He waited to see if she understood what he was saying and almost shouted

with relief when she reached a hand to him.

He positioned her down on the tarp as his hands roamed her body. He caressed

her out of her clothes, his mouth ardent and expert in a way she'd never experienced

before. She tried to return the favor, but before she could get Chris's shirt came off,

he had her twisting under him in a veritable orgy of pleasure, her gasps audible as

each pleasure was eclipsed by a new one.

She wouldn't have believed that a man like him would be so patient. He acted

like he had all the time in the world, laughing softly at her obvious desire, but

not satisfying it. His mouth worked its way lazily down her body to her breasts

while she trembled in the wake of new and mysterious pleasures. She seemed to

hang in midair as his mouth hovered over the hard peak of her breast. Then,

tenderly, his mouth worked its way completely over it and began to suckle her.

Callie cried out in surprised ecstasy.

Her response delighted him. Her ardent clinging and soft cries of pleasure,

her trembling made him feel more like a man then ever before. He groaned

harshly against her breast as a wave of hot pleasure swept over him. He wrestled

the rest of his clothes off before lowering himself down to cover her body feeling

the heat and eagerness of it. He heard her faint gasp and felt the ripple of her soft

body as she moved to accommodate him.

"Chris.." she whispered, her nails gripping his upper arms.

His mouth closed over her mouth as he eased down. "Don't be afraid, I
won't hurt you"He whispered into her ear.

That wasn't what she was thinking….she had no fear at all. She gasped again

as he moved lazily and a violent spasm of pleasure shook her entire body. Her

slender hips arched, he body trying to incite him to repeat that lazy movement

of his body, to give her that ecstasy again.

His soft, possessive eyes met hers. "Is this what you want me to do?" he

whispered, smiling as he moved and she tensed again, trembling.

For the first time in her life, Callie could get any words out, but Chris didn't

seem to need to hear them anyway. He shifted their positions and the next time

 he moved, she closed he eyes on a shuddering moan of exquisite pleasure. She

had never dreamed that a woman could feel such..!

He heard her voice then, barely audible, pleading with him, sobbing at his throat.

Chris was very nearly at the end of his endurance, but from the sound of Callie,

he needn't be patient any longer. He caught her mouth firmly under his and moved

deliberately, roughly, quickly, feeling her body take up the rhythm and echo it. He

could feel her going up the spiral with him, he could hear the pleasure in her choked

sobs, feel it in her clinging hands and arching body, in the grip of her long, elegant

legs as the curled around his and tightened in spasms.
It was more then he could ever hope for. She fell with him into the white-hot

heat of ecstasy, throbbed with him, as reality became nothing more than a

glimpse of light somewhere in the distance. Chris felt his body stiffen even

as hers convulsed under the pressure of him. It was like being buried in warm,

soft velvet….

"No!" she cried out as the pleasure fell away from her just as she'd grasped it.

"No, no..!"

"What is it?" he asked huskily at her ear, his body shivering a little in the

aftermath as he propped his self above her. "Did I hurt you?"

"It didn't last," she sobbed, clinging. "I couldn't…make it last…!"

Chris understood at once. His mouth moved softly over her damp eyes, across her

wet cheek and down to her parted lips where her breath came in husky little jerks.

"Pleasure like that would be lethal in long doses," he whispered into her lips. He

bit at her lower lip gently and then rubbed his mouth over it in soft little caresses.

Callie moved experimentally and felt the intimate pressure of him of him. Her eyes

lifted to his, a little shy. His thumb brushed her lower lip while he searched her

eyes in a silence so profound she could hear their accelerated heartbeats.

Her fingers smoothed over the hard muscles in his upper arms. His body, despite a

few scars and depressions, was absolutely beautiful. He brushed her auburn hair

out of her face and smiled down at her. They were still intimately joined, and her

eyes searched his lean face with wonder. He smiled, and then moved again with

deliberate sensuality, watching her lift toward him helplessly. He bent and put his

mouth tenderly over hers, shifting onto his side with both lean hands on her hips

as one long, powerful leg slid between both of hers. He felt her shiver as the

pleasure began all over again. His last sane thought as she pressed into his body

was that he hoped he had the stamina to survive what they were going to do to

each other this time…

The chirping of his cell phone brought Chris back to earth the next morning.

Keeping Callie snuggled against his side with one arm; he brought the phone

up to his ear with the other.

"What."

"Hey Cowboy, ready to get rescued?"

Chris laughed softly, "how far out are you?"

Vin replied, "bout ten minutes – by the way. Chialton and his goons were

picked up last night on the other side of the mountain.

"That's great news."

"See ya in a few then."

"Right."

Chris disconnected and then turned his attention to the lady in his arms.
He kissed her softly, starting at her neck and working around to her mouth.

Callie sighed, stretched and smiled up at her blond hair lover.

"Do we have to wake up?"

"Fraid so…iffen you want some breakfast and that hot shower."

Her lilting laugh filled his ears, "I decided I want a bath, don't suppose

you want to scrub my back?"

"I think we can arrange that, but only if you get your rear in gear..."

Callie got her rear in gear…


~ Finis ~