Heart of the Wild Read online

  Still, this rock hard man would not get away with kidnapping John Douglas and Ava Moore's daughter. This beast, whoever he was, would pay. Who'd he think he was, Tarzan?

  Her feet went into immediate action, coming up hard below the man's waist. He made little more than a grunt and continued on his journey. An ordinary man would have doubled over from that precise blow.

  His breathing was labored now. Good, at least something affected him. She continued her assault, hoping to find a weaker spot and best him. It was possible to best a man of his strength, she remembered reading that somewhere, probably Reader's Digest. Funny how the mind seemed to escape into strange places at a time like this.

  The man readjusted her, and carried her onward. His big hands clasped her feet, as he gave her one good slap on her bottom and kept moving. She yelped in surprise.

  How dare he touch her bottom! But then, he might dare a lot of things, and she needed to prepare to fight him tooth and nail.

  Getting a grip on the situation, Kasie tried to grasp which direction he was taking her, but he seemed to be walking in circles, until she became totally confused. Obviously, he wanted to confuse her. He was a very smart man; she must never underestimate him.

  The only thing she was sure of was that he carried her away from the beach. The sting of the salty air disappearing told her that much. She heard the swish of passing cars. Could that be the coastal highway in the distance? Yes, he was at the highway now. She had to stay fully alert, and as helpful as possible in her own rescue. She would be rescued; it was only a matter of time. Her mother would have the FBI, the CIA and half the cops in California after him for this.

  "You can't get away with this, you idiot," she yelled as loud as she could. An intelligent man would know this.

  No response.

  He obviously wasn't intelligent.

  She grabbed for his hair and yanked, finding it velvety soft between her fingers, and much longer than she expected. He could be George Michaels from Rick's band; he had long hair. Only she doubted it would ever be that silky. And George certainly wasn't lean.

  Who could this character be, and what did he want? Her mind scrambled for answers.

  Kidnapped. She was being kidnapped! Insane! Things like this didn't happen in real life. In the movies maybe, but not in real life.

  Being practically shoved into a hard seat, and hearing the door shut behind her, told her she was now in a vehicle. However, this particular vehicle seemed different, somehow. The noise from the traffic sounded louder than it should, perhaps a convertible, or a jeep?

  Kasie waited, proud that she hadn't panicked. She sat very still, waiting until she heard him getting in on the other side, and starting the motor. It had to be a jeep; no convertible would sound so loud.

  Who did she know that owned a jeep? Who did she know that was built like a hard and lean block of steel? She racked her brain.

  She tried another angle. Who would want to kidnap her? Just because her father, John Douglas III, was one of the ten richest men in the country, and her mother, Ava Moore was a movie legend, made her a likely target. Naturally, she'd been warned many times by both her father's close friends and her mother's bodyguard that it could happen. But what were the odds?

  Who'd have the gall, knowing the wrath of her parents?

  Miles down the road, after complete silence, she heard a deep, rather condescending voice rumble with suppressed laughter.

  The tension in her body eased somewhat. So this was a big joke. Perhaps she should view it as such. She could take a joke as well as the next person, even though at the moment it didn't seem that funny.

  But his laughter sounded oddly familiar, and when he spoke, he confirmed her worst fears. She jumped in her seat with surprise, glad he couldn't see her stunned expression. She needed time to assimilate the situation, get herself under control.

  "Sorry, Kasie."

  "Amory? C-Chayton Amory?" Kasie stiffened and straightened. Control; that's what she needed. Lots of control.

  "Back to last names again, I see. I liked it better when you called me Chay." He smiled as he gently removed the cap, and glanced at her disheveled face and hair. His eyes moved slowly over her, thoroughly, as though he enjoyed embarrassing her, or looking at her. "Nice to see you, too, Kasie. It's been a while."

  "Not long enough!" she snapped. Dear God, her knees were shaking, but eight years ago, Chayton Amory had been a rather gangly young logging engineer. Today he was a Herculean.

  She unwound the long braid, so that it dangled down her back to her waist.

  "So, to what do I owe this intrusion? Or should I guess, it's dear old dad, isn't it? Naturally, why else would you be here?"

  "Guess you got me on that one," he agreed, casting her a mock frown. He watched her toss the dirty cap out the window, and chuckled again. "Sorry about that, Kasie, it's been under the seat since last winter, and I had to tie it, or you would have ripped it off, first thing. And yes, you're right. Your father wants to see you."

  "Really." She batted her eyes at him dramatically. "That's too bad, because I'm busy. I've got a wedding to go to tomorrow. Mine! But then, I'm sure he's heard. Everyone has, thanks to Mother." She glanced about, but didn't recognize her surroundings. The beach was still there, but they were already miles down the road from where he'd found her.

  "He's aware of it," came the brief reply, his eyes going back to the highway swiftly. Something in his voice had changed, but she couldn't be sure if it was sarcasm or bitterness.

  "If he wanted to talk, he should have come in person instead of sending his yes man. I would think he could at least attend my wedding in person, if he's at all interested. I suppose you are representing him? So why the dramatics? Why pull a kidnapping routine? Why scare me out of my wits?" Her voice rose to a scale even she didn't recognize.

  "The Kasie I knew didn't scare that easily."

  "I'm not that Kasie anymore."

  "I guess not. No dramatics, and certainly no routine, Kasie. But you're right, I am sort of kidnapping you."

  Kasie turned her body toward him, a big mistake! Her heart stopped, fluttered, and stopped again. Nothing had changed. He could still turn her upside down with one glance.

  God, how she wished he was old and ugly. How she wished her fingers didn't itch to run recklessly through his thick, black-brown hair that tapered neatly past his shoulders.

  Chayton Amory had stolen her heart eight years ago, and broken it. Raw pain stabbed her without warning. Memories best forgotten rushed into her head as she took in the same strong face, hawk-like nose, and stubborn set chin. Those expressive dark gray eyes looked stone cold at her--like gun metal.

  "Are we going to play guessing games all morning, or are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

  "It's pretty simple. He wants to talk to you."

  "Hasn't he heard of a phone?" She moved to put some distance between them, hugging the door, but the confines of the jeep were too close. As though distance would make any difference. The whole state of California wasn't big enough for the two of them.

  "Good question. One I'm sure you'll want to ask him when you see him."

  "I'll ask. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the little, star-struck tomboy you were going to marry eight years ago. And I don't intend seeing my father, now or later. Kidnapping is a federal offense, I hope you both realize. And going anywhere you don't want to go with someone you don't want to go with…is kidnapping."

  "I figured you'd see it that way." His voice held an edge, but the smile widened. "And I've noticed."

  He glanced at her again, this time his eyes speaking for him.

  Those damn bedroom eyes could melt a candle at two feet. Damn his magnetism. Chayton Amory looked as though he wanted to swallow her.

  "Look, don't make this anymore than what it is. He sent me to get you, that's all."

  "Make it more than it is?"

  "That's right, don't dramatize. You always did dramatize, Kasie. Maybe you go
t that from your mother. And I certainly wouldn't accuse you of being a tomboy, especially in that get-up."

  How could she know that a morning fishing expedition could turn into something like this? Kasie glanced at her clothes, rolled her eyes at her tattered jeans and fish-smeared sweatshirt, and continued to try to talk sense into the man.

  "Look, I'm not going with you anywhere. I've a previous engagement. Sorry. Now turn this--thing around and put me back on the beach like you found me, or you'll be sorry."

  "Sorry. Your plans will have to wait. He wants to see you before the wedding."

  "He wants to ruin my wedding?" She gasped, numbed by her own festering rage. "Oh--this is so like him. Still trying to control me, isn't he?"

  "Looks that way, doesn't it? Maybe you need to be controlled."

  "You always were a male chauvinist."

  He showed no signs of guilt or remorse. She cringed inwardly, seething.

  "You don't seriously think you're going to get away with this, do you?"

  "Afraid so." His smug confidence annoyed her further.

  Flabbergasted, Kasie buttoned her lip momentarily. For the time being, she would wait and see where this was leading. The more she antagonized him, the worse this could get. She clenched her jaw tightly, till it hurt, and bit back a retort. When Amory made up his mind to do something, there was no turning back.

  Oh, how she wished she had been sensible and stayed in bed this morning. She could be basking in a hot tub of fragrant water right now, waiting for the inevitable shopping spree her mother had planned. But then she never had been sensible, and she hated shopping. She preferred showers to long basks in the tub.

  Her eyes drifted over him, reluctantly, curiously. Damn him, he was even more gorgeous than she remembered. His strong, lean frame dominated the jeep. His black jeans hugged his hips as naturally as though he'd been born in them; his jacket was a crushable soft color of faded brown, and his shirt was an oxford cotton in mint green, one of her favorite colors. His hair blew in the wind, creating an uncivilized look. Half Native American, half Irish. He was beyond the word handsome; hard, dark and provocative.

  She wondered hysterically if she could jump from the vehicle and survive, but at this speed it would be suicide. Maybe she could step on the gas, and make him wreck the darn thing. Wild thoughts dashed through her head, but none were worth trying.

  After a long while of mentally wrestling with the situation, she sighed and sat back in the seat. She wasn't beat yet, but he'd definitely won the first round.

  Amory didn't stop driving till nightfall. He didn't waste idle conversation on her, either. The determined look on his face told her not to dally with him. He pulled over at a motel later that evening, eyed her, then pulled her along with him while he registered. After treating her to a simple supper of steak and eggs, he escorted her into one of the cabins.

  Once Amory had her safely inside the room, he peered down at her red, angry face with steel-edged determination.

  "This all stops, now. The joke has gone far enough. I am not amused!" She tapped her foot loudly. "If you take me home this instant, we'll let bygones be bygones."

  He glanced at her foot with amusement, a twinkle lighting his expressive eyes.

  "Another little habit you've picked up from your mother, I suppose? Huh, Kasie? Well, cool it, and you better start lowering that pretty little nose of yours a notch or two. Snobbery doesn't become you." He glanced about the room.

  "Snobbery? What did you expect, greetings and salutations? You should certainly know me better than that. I want explanations, Amory! My God, do you realize you've ruined the wedding rehearsal?" She choked as she spied the clock by the bed.

  The Bed!

  "Too bad." He turned away from her, to gaze about the modest confines of the room. "And you'll get your explanations in due time, from your father. So save that fast and furious temper for him."

  He wasn't going to listen to reason. He was being his usual calm and quiet self, obviously determined to go through with this ridiculous charade, she decided.

  She spotted the phone while his back was turned, and realized the management was only a call away. Surely they could help! He wouldn't get away with this. She'd show him. She could take care of herself. Without further consideration, she dived for the telephone. A big hand suddenly gripped her wrist like a handcuff, and twisted her about. Her wrist tingled from his touch.

  Tingled? Dammit! The contact was electrical. She didn't want to tingle. She didn't want to feel anything. Especially with Chayton Amory. She'd fallen prey to his charms once; she wouldn't do it again.

  "Good try, but useless."

  "Just where in the hell do you think you are taking me?"

  He smiled arrogantly. "Such language. You're losing your charm and good manners, too?"

  When she stared at him too long, he answered her. "To my cabin in the mountains. You really should stop cussing. It isn't becoming."

  "Becoming?" she screeched. "I wish I had something to throw at you. I'd show you becoming."

  Amory had stormed back into her life, unannounced and uninvited, making her tingle, and smiling smugly as though he knew it. How dare he!

  "You're still a son of a--"

  "Now that's the Kasie I know and love."

  Silence loomed as she clamped her mouth shut. Love? How could he use the word love around her?

  "You actually think you can get away with kidnapping me?"

  Had her voice gone up an octave?

  "Looks that way, doesn't it?" He seemed to enjoy her discomfiture.

  "And to think I almost married you!"

  His eyes narrowed on hers, and something stronger than fear shot through her. Awareness. Like lightening bolts, his eyes pinned her without touching her. She had pushed him too far.

  Hot, uninvited tears threatened to fall. Ineffective tears. "Why are you doing this?"

  "Tears, Kasie? I hadn't expected you to stoop to that. Let's don't play games. You're not crying, and I'm not buying. It's all up to you. Your father wants to see you. I'm taking you to him, that's all. Don't make it what it isn't."

  She searched his handsome face long and hard. The contact stunned her. Eight years ago she had fallen in love with this man, only to realize he was wooing her because of her father's wishes. She had overheard their conversation about how pleased her father was about their impending marriage, how he had practically planned every moment between them. Well, she didn't need his planning, and she didn't need Chayton Amory. She had managed for eight years without either of them, and wanted to continue. Besides, she wouldn't marry a man that didn't love her. Now he was back, to ruin another wedding.

  "That's not all, and you know it. You're intentionally ruining my wedding. Why?" She cried. "Is this some 'get even' trick?"

  "This isn't personal," he said with a smile, and then turned away from her. For a moment he was still, his back very straight.

  "Most people don't have you kidnapped to talk. Wouldn't a call have sufficed?"

  "I'm sure he has his reasons."

  "You haven't changed a bit, have you? Still a yes man for my father. No matter who it hurts, or what the circumstances."

  He turned to look at her, his expression serious. He searched her perplexed face as though looking for answers to unasked questions.

  "I'm not going to argue with you, Kasie."

  "My father wants to stop this wedding, doesn't he? Okay, so why?"

  "Everything should be explained in due time. In the meantime, I'm taking you to my cabin, to meet with him. I'm sorry about the way I had to do it, but it seemed the easiest way to get you away from there without a scene. Your mother would never have agreed to an untimely visit. It had to be done this way. I was sure you wouldn't come willingly if I merely stopped by and asked. Now do you understand?"

  Kasie cast him a disdainful glance, then after a brief silence she questioned him. "Do you know why he wants to stop my wedding?"

  There was no reply, only a look o
f assessment.

  "God, why can't you just open up and talk to me? You never could talk to me, could you? Okay, so who else lives in this cabin of yours?"

  "Just me, and, on occasion, Tanka. I'm sure you remember him, don't you? My half brother?"

  "Of course I remember Tanka."

  After a long silence she questioned him further. "He'll be there?"

  "I don't know. You know Tanka as well as I; he's never in one place too long. What difference does that make?"

  What difference? Staying in a secluded cabin, in the mountains, alone with Amory was suicide to her heart.