“Be a good girl and climb in first. I’ll climb in right behind you.” Maddie didn’t move until he gave her a gentle push. “And then we’ll be just as snug as two bugs in a rug,” he added with another one of those husky chuckles that unnerved her. “Which is an appropriate way to be if you’re sleeping with a famous entomologist, I would think.”
“I wouldn’t give up my day job,” Maddie scoffed. “A comedian you aren’t.” She slid under the covers and scooted as far to the opposite side of the bed as humanly possible. It didn’t work. He scooted right in behind her. A piece of paper couldn’t have been wedged between them. Okay, you can do this, Maddie told herself. Like the man said, we’re both two mature adults. We’re both exhausted. And there’s no reason why we shouldn’t get a little sleep.
Not that Maddie intended to fall asleep. After all, she was handcuffed to a total stranger who had her sexual motor running faster than a turbo-charged Indy race car! But she would get some rest. Rest was important if she wanted to survive the next three days. Yes, she would just lie there in the darkness awake, still as a mouse, and pretend she was asleep. Maybe then he would stop all the snuggly-buggly crapola that was driving her out of her usually focused mind.
But God, he did feel good pressed up against her, she admitted with a mental moan. In fact, they were a perfect fit. She would never have pictured Hawk as a cuddler kind of guy. But lying there in the darkness in that intimate spooning position, suddenly made the whole point of cuddling crystal clear to Maddie. Until she felt an unmistakable bulge pressing against her backside.
“Okay, soldier. That better be a hand grenade in your pocket,” Maddie warned, hoping the nervousness she felt wasn’t evident in her voice.
The second he moved away, Maddie let out a deep sigh of relief. Or was it regret? Whatever! Maddie was simply too exhausted to sort it all out. Unable to suppress a yawn, she mumbled, “It’s going to be a long three days.”
“Hopefully, long enough,” he said with a yawn of his own.
Maddie didn’t dare ask, “Long enough for what?”
She had a feeling she already knew the answer.
5
THE SOUND OF THE BEDROOM door closing launched Maddie into a sitting position. Thankfully her iron bracelet and her bed-buddy were now both gone.
“God, what a night,” she groaned, glaring at Brad’s beside clock. It was only 6:00 a.m., but he had been up and on the move for at least an hour while she kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Amazingly she had managed to stay awake most of the night, long after the sound of Brad’s even breathing told her he was out for the count; a fact that upset her whether Maddie wanted to admit it or not.
Yes, her, she mused. Dr. Madeline Morgan, the woman who only had time for her career, had actually been a bit disappointed that the handsome hunk who had taken her prisoner hadn’t been a little more persistent about his boastful house-playing threat.
And what would you have done if he had tried to get a little frisky? her pesky libido wanted to know.
Refusing to even ponder that question in her sleep-deprived state, Maddie scrambled from the bed and made a mad dash for the bathroom. The reflection she saw in the mirror a few seconds later, however, sent her fist to her mouth to stifle a scream.
Her hair, which had never fully recovered from the helicopter wind storm, looked as if she had contemplated dreadlocks but left the task only halfway completed. An ugly purple bruise the size of a quarter had popped out above her right eyebrow. And worse yet, the skin now seemed to be missing on the very tip of her nose. Praying her bloodshot eyes were only distorting her image, Maddie leaned closer to the mirror, then reached up and tweaked the bright red spot. An instant stab of pain told her bloodshot or not, her eyes still had perfect 20/20 vision.
“If this isn’t a day for heavy makeup, I don’t know what would be,” Maddie grumbled aloud, then remembered all she had with her were the clothes on her back.
Wonderful, she thought, frowning at her horrid reflection. No wonder she had awakened to an empty bed. The way she looked, she suspected Mr. Air Force was probably in the other room now, still hyperventilating over the shock of waking up next to Medusa, snake hair and all! Of course, the minute she thought of Brad, Maddie hurried back to the door to click the lock safely into place. And it wasn’t until she turned back around that she noticed the items he had offered her the night before were now sitting in a neat little bundle on the closed toilet seat.
Atop the bundle was a note.
Maddie walked over and picked it up. Shower and get cleaned up. By the time you’re dressed, I should be back with breakfast. Baker is back at his guard post in case you get any bright ideas about trying to escape again.
“Cute, real cute,” Maddie said aloud.
Yeah, he was a real riot, that Hawk.
She tossed the note into the wastebasket beside the sink, shed her rumpled clothing and pulled back the shower curtain that was still damp from the shower Brad had taken earlier. Stepping under the hot spray, she winced slightly when the water found the tender places from the manhandling she had suffered the day before. Too bad her arms and legs weren’t the only things bruised. She hated to admit it, but her ego was a little bruised, too, from the manhandling that hadn’t taken place the night before. And that’s what had her so puzzled.
Maddie couldn’t explain it, but in less than twenty-four hours she felt as if her entire life had done a gigantic flip-flop. Even finding a Deva Skipper seemed unimportant at the moment, although that could easily be explained thanks to Mary Beth and the media. Now, just holding on to her job had to be her main priority.
But what about all of the fantasizing? The funny feeling she got in the pit of her stomach every time she looked at Hawk? Not to mention the sudden concern over her appearance, which had never mattered one way or another to Maddie before.
Those weren’t her normal concerns.
Which was why, Maddie decided, she had to pull herself together and she had to do it fast. Captain Brad Hawkins was a luxury she simply couldn’t afford. Not if she intended to remain in control of her emotions and in control of her life. So, she simply wouldn’t give in to any further fantasies. Nor would she allow herself to obsess over her ratty hair and whether or not she had a big red wound on the tip of her nose. What she would do was start acting like the woman she really was. A competent woman. A focused woman. A confident woman. A woman with a kick-ass attitude, who knew what she wanted out of life and what she had to do to get it.
“Will the real Maddie Morgan please step forward?” Maddie said aloud, and stepped from the shower a woman renewed.
Thirty minutes later, however, she certainly didn’t look like the real Maddie Morgan. Her standard military issue fatigue pants were so large around the waist they fit like hip-huggers, and the T-shirt was so small it strained across her ample bosom like something you would wear to a wet T-shirt contest. Not that it mattered whether the T-shirt was wet or not. Since she’d rinsed out her bra and her undies along with the rest of her clothes that were now hanging discreetly behind the shower curtain, there was nothing to encumber the two distinct protrusions winking back at Maddie as she stared at herself in the mirror.
So much for getting back to my old self, Maddie thought. If anything, she looked exactly like Mary Beth.
Maddie
