Run Wild (14 page)

“Okay,” she said slowly, moving in next to him and also touching the hood. She didn’t appear surprised, concerned, worried, or even curious about who owned the car, and he knew she had turned off the highway onto this road for a reason. And it wasn’t because she was lost.

There was no way he was buying her being out this far because she got turned around. If it wasn’t for the tracking bug Trent had Matilda drop in Natasha’s purse, which he guessed was what Natasha caught Matilda doing, he never would have found her. This was part of his territory. He hadn’t lied about that. But he seldom drove out this way unless he got a call or a complaint.

If it wasn’t for that tracking device, Natasha would be in serious trouble right now. The people who lived out this way weren’t exactly the kind to lend a helping hand to strangers. Folks in Acorn lived among the seclusion of the hills because they valued their privacy. Trent knew some of the farmers out here were borderline legal with the crops they grew. Unlike in his father’s day when the law was cut and dried, today a farmer might be able to legally grow marijuana. Trent left the farmers alone unless there was trouble. Putting spikes down on a road, though, definitely constituted someone with something to hide.

Trent glanced around, unable to shake the sensation that they were being watched. It might be whoever was inside. But he’d had the same sensation while driving around the curves in the hills. Trent didn’t bank on skin crawling, or tingles up the spine, as indication from a more higher-developed part of his brain that something was about to happen the way some investigators did. He relied on hard facts and his gut.

Trent started around his Suburban, watching Natasha as she stared hard at the cabin.

“There’s definitely someone inside.” Natasha cleared the distance between them, speaking under her breath, barely moving her lips. Their arms brushed against each other when she stopped next to him and didn’t move.

“Let’s go find out who,” he said, and put his hand on the middle of her back, then guided her alongside him toward the rickety structure.

It didn’t have a porch as much as someone had built an awning-type overhang against the front of the cabin, which protruded a good five feet out from the rustic-looking log walls. The door to the place looked solid, possibly newer than the rest of the structure. Trent noticed not only were the windows dirty, but also the glass had aged, which would have made them difficult to see out of even if the panes had been scrubbed clean.

He wondered how long this cabin had been here. It possibly dated back to the gold-mining days during which time many took up camp in the Trinity Alps determined to strike it rich panning for gold. These hills led into the mountains, and there were a lot of creeks that ran down them, which at one time were known for bedding gold.

Trent rapped against the door, knocking firmly, although, with his gloves on, the sound was somewhat muffled. He left Natasha standing behind him as he stepped to the side of the door and peered in the window. Something crashed inside and Natasha shrieked.

Trent reached for her just as Natasha reached under his bulky coat for her gun.

“Stay close,” he muttered, although he wanted to order her back to his Suburban. If he thought it would do any good he would have. “We’ve got probable cause to enter without a warrant now,” he told her.

“Bounty hunters don’t need warrants,” she said, whispering, and was right on his heels when he turned the doorknob.

It wasn’t locked. “You aren’t a bounty hunter,” he reminded her, also whispering, and turning the doorknob.

Neither of them said anything else when he pushed open the door and stepped into the dark cabin. It wasn’t any warmer inside. At first glance he guessed the fireplace hadn’t been used in ages. Possibly it was useless, with a dilapidated chimney. A quick survey of the one-room structure and he could tell someone had been staying here.

Trent walked around the small cabin, his gun pulled and pointed down in front of him. Natasha moved in alongside him, her gun in both hands as she searched the room. She walked to the far wall and pushed at something with her boot; then, squatting, she nudged at it with her gun.

“Sleeping bag and food wrappers,” she announced, looking over her shoulder at him. “Lovely accommodations,” she added, wrinkling her nose. “Do you know who owns this place?”

“No, but I’ll find out.” He stood over her, noticing she wasn’t touching anything with her bare hands. “There might be a pair of spare gloves in the glove box.”

Natasha stood and when she looked at him they were once again standing close. “Now you tell me.”

The way she puckered her lips made him want to kiss her. He looked away first, keeping his mind on his job. “There isn’t anywhere in here to hide.”

“I thought there was someone in here, too.”

She moved to the back side of the cabin at the same time he did. Anyone staying in this place was definitely here out of necessity. He couldn’t imagine anyone staying here by choice. It was one hell of a hiding place, though. If Natasha hadn’t been on this road it never would have crossed his mind to drive through these hills looking for King. There were at least a couple dozen remote locations closer to Trinity Ranch.

And he’d explored all of them. Trent could have kicked himself for not expanding his search sooner.

“Look.” Natasha pointed with her gun. “I think this is a trapdoor of sorts.”

She nudged at part of the back wall and Trent moved closer. Then bending down in front of her, he ran his finger along the back wall. Someone had cut out a portion of the wall, in the shape of a small door, then put the part of the wall they’d cut out back with hinges. He pushed against the part that had been put back, and it fell to the ground outside.

Natasha jumped. “That’s what we heard,” she said, sounding excited as she bent over next to him, then started crawling forward.

“Let me go first.” But when he touched her, his hand landed on her rear end since she was already crawling outside through the hole in the cabin wall. Instinctively his hand curved around her soft bottom. For a moment every inch of him was hard as he fought back the urge not to let his fingers slide between her legs.

God, this woman was hot. She was also feisty, daring, and definitely not panicking considering their circumstances. Not many women would crawl through a hole in a wall when they had no idea who might be waiting for them on the other side.

She turned the moment she was outside and pulled her legs through. “Whoever was in here probably ran up this back hill. We would have seen them otherwise.”

Before he could crawl through after her, Natasha was bounding up the hill. Trent cursed under his breath, not taking time to put the wall back as he sheathed his gun and took off after her.

*   *   *

Natasha agreed it was a good idea to put a level of trust in each other and work together. It put one hell of a burden on her, though. Trent Oakley was by far the sexiest man she’d ever met. She’d damn near frozen while crawling through the cabin wall. Her body still sizzled from when he’d touched her ass. In spite of telling herself it was a reflex and that he hadn’t cupped her rear end on purpose, Natasha still felt the pressure between her legs as she reached the top of the hill. He had held her in a tight grip back in the Suburban. She imagined he might even be capable of holding her down. Not many men could. Natasha liked the rough-and-ready type. None of the men she’d gone out with in the past, though, had truly been able to force her to submit. During foreplay, if things got rough, which she loved, she was always able to outmatch the man she was with. Half the time that turned them on, in which case she was done. The other half of the time, her date got bent out of shape because she was stronger and more adept than he was, and still, they were done.

Now, with Trent, she caught herself holding back. She easily could have freed herself when he threatened to handcuff her. It might have caused a bit of a commotion, however, and they hadn’t parked so they could fuck. They had come here to see if her father was here. Trent didn’t know that. Or at least she hoped he thought they were simply after whoever trashed her tires.

Did her ability to hold her own turn him on? Or did it create a need inside him to pressure her to submit? She wasn’t sure why but the thought of Trent completely overpowering her sexually got her so wet she stumbled on the hill.

“Damn it,” she cursed under her breath and quickly rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Stay focused,” she ordered herself. It would have been nice to have those gloves he had mentioned were in the Suburban.

Natasha continued up the hill, falling to her hands and knees once again when another thought hit her. If they found her father, if he was hiding out here, it would imply one hell of a large amount of guilt. Regardless of how he’d sworn to presume innocence, Trent would haul him in. She would have helped Trent find him.

“Crap,” she hissed, and damn near flew over a fallen log half-buried in the ground.

Trent’s coat protected her from more than just the elements. It prevented small protruding sticks from ripping at her skin when she climbed over the log, which was more like a fallen tree.

Natasha stared at a piece of fabric tangled in branches on the other side of the log. Someone else had tripped over the log. They hadn’t been as lucky. It had torn their shirt.

“Natasha!” Trent was right behind her.

She shoved the torn piece of material in her coat pocket. Trent leapt onto the fallen log behind her and jumped to the ground next to her.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, slightly out of breath. “Although I didn’t take that log as gracefully as you just did.”

Trent braced himself on the uneven ground. With the extreme tilt in the earth as the hill grew steeper, they were almost eye to eye.

Natasha caught herself admiring how well the great outdoors appealed to him. His plaid flannel button-down revealed enough chest hair to almost make her drool. His shirt was tucked into his jeans, which showed off a hard, flat waist. And the way those well-worn jeans hugged his muscular legs almost made her forget why they were out there.

Almost. If her father were hiding out here, she had to throw the sheriff off his scent and come out here later, alone. Natasha needed to talk to her dad before Trent got his hands on him.

“I’m fine,” she repeated, forcing herself to look away. She scanned the hill for any signs of life other than the two of them. “Let’s see what we can see at the top.”

“Alright, but I’ll lead.” Trent held up his gloved hand as if he expected her to argue. “You don’t know the kind of people who live out here and I do. If they don’t recognize me, they would know my name if I call it out. Gives us less of a chance of getting shot.”

She nodded, willing not to argue since he’d just filled her with hope. Maybe the sheriff didn’t believe they were chasing her father. He possibly thought whoever was out here was simply another drifter, or that this land was part of a bigger piece of property and whoever owned it just happened to want to camp out in that dilapidated cabin. Maybe they were trailing a criminal wanted for another crime.

Natasha really didn’t care as long as Trent didn’t have his thoughts on her father. Besides, following him up the remainder of the hill gave her one hell of an ass shot. Thankfully, he moved fast. Natasha raced up the hill after him.

The need to burn off energy hit her hard. Adrenaline pumped through her body. Her breasts were swollen and her nipples were hyper-sensitive, growing even more so every time she moved and they brushed against her bra. She took on the hill, fighting it and the demons growing inside her, making her acutely aware of how close Trent was as she continued hiking to the top.

Trent was eventually right next to her, pointing out broken branches, or a partial footprint in the soft dirt that suggested whoever they were chasing had taken this same path.

“Shit,” Trent grumbled when they finally stood at the top of the hill and stared at the endless hills and valleys spread out in front of them.

The mountain range was barely visible on the cloudy, gray horizon. Patches of fog had settled in a the valleys below them, and she and Trent stood staring down at it now.

Continuing on would be ridiculous. Natasha squinted through thick sections of trees, stared at large boulders in the ground on the other side of the hill. She saw no easy way to continue hiking. Someone had come this way minutes ahead of them, and disappeared. Whoever had been in that cabin apparently knew this land fairly well. Maybe she hadn’t seen her father at the gas station after all. Maybe they were chasing some back-hills person, who for whatever reason was camping out in that old cabin … and had put spikes in the road so no one would drive out this way.

That’s when she spotted him. Already down the hill in front of them, a man in a plaid shirt wearing what appeared to be a down-lined winter vest was moving through the trees alongside the bottom of the next hill. It almost appeared he was trying to do a wide circle, track his way back to watch the cabin, and spy on her and Trent until they left. Then he might return to his cabin, although Natasha seriously doubted Trent would leave this place alone. Whoever was running had to know their hiding place had been compromised.

She stared hard at the man. He was well over six foot. His long legs made quick distance over the rough terrain he was traveling. There was no hiding or mistaking the King men. All of them were giants. And all of them were muscular, incredibly handsome men, including her father.