Mackenzie's Pleasure by Linda Howard Read Free Book Online Page A

she noticed through a sort of haze; his scent was a
    mixture of clean, fresh sweat and musky maleness, exertion and tension heating it to an aroma as
    heady as that of the finest whiskey. Mackenzie. He'd said his name was Mackenzie, whispered it
    to her when he crouched to identify himself.
    Oh, God, he was so warm, and she was still cold. The gritty stone floor beneath her bare
    feet seemed to be wafting cold waves of air up her legs. His shirt was so big it dwarfed her,
    hanging almost to her knees, but still she was naked beneath it. Her entire body was shaking.
    They stood motionless in the silent darkness of the empty room for an eternity,
    listening to the gunfire as it tapered off in the distance, listening to the shouts and curses as
    they, too, diminished, listened for so long that Barrie drifted into alight doze, leaning
    against him with her head resting on his back. He was like a rock, unmoving, his patience
    beyond anything she had ever imagined. There were no nervous little adjustments of position, no
    hint that his muscles got tired. The slow, even rhythm of his breathing was the only
    movement she could discern, and resting against him as she was, the sensation was like being
    on a raft in a pool, gently rising, falling—
    She woke when he reached back and lightly shook her. "They think we got away," he
    whispered. "Don't move or make any sound while I check things out."
    Obediently she straightened away from him, though she almost cried at the loss of his
    body heat. He switched on a flashlight that gave off only a slender beam; black tape had
    been placed across most of the lens. He flicked the light around the room, revealing that it
    was empty except for some old boxes piled along one wall. Cobwebs festooned all of the
    comers, and the floor was covered with a thick layer of dust. She could make out a single
    window in the far wall, but he was careful not to let the thin beam of light get close to it
    and possibly betray their presence. The room seemed to have been unused for a very long
    time.
    He leaned close and put his mouth against her ear. His warm breath washed across her
    flesh with every word. "We have to get out of this building. My men have made it look as if
    we escaped, but we probably won't be able to hook up with them again until tomorrow night.
    We need someplace safe to wait. What do you know about the interior layout?"
    She shook her head and followed his example, lifting herself on tiptoe to put her lips to
    his ear. "Nothing," she whispered. "I was blindfolded when they brought me here."
    He gave a brief nod and straightened away from her. Once again Barrie felt bereft,
    abandoned, without his physical nearness. She knew it was just a temporary weakness, this
    urge to cling to him and the security he represented, but she needed him now with an urgency
    that was close to pain in its intensity. She wanted nothing more than to press close to him again,
    to feel the animal heat that told her she wasn't alone; she wanted to be in touch with the
    steely strength that stood between her and those bastards who had kidnapped her.
    Temporary or not, Barrie hated this neediness on her part; it reminded her too sharply of
    the way she had clung to her father when her mother and brother had died. Granted, she
    had been just a child then, and the closeness that had developed between her and her father
    had, for the most part, been good. But she had seen how stifling it could be, too, and quietly, as
    was her way, she had begun placing increments of distance between them. Now this had
    happened, and her first instinct was to cling. Was she going to turn into a vine every time
    there was some trauma in her life? She didn't want to be like that, didn't want to be a
    weakling. This nightmare had shown her too vividly that all security, no matter how solid it
    seemed, had its weak points. Instead of depending on others, she would do better to develop her
    own strengths, strengths she knew were there but