“Scorched, but not completely destroyed.” He set his finger against a circle someone had drawn on the map. “We’re here, near the Canadian border.”
“Can we get across into Canada?”
“The border is pretty open and wild. As long as we stay off the roads and away from bridges we should be all right.”
Her eyes widened as realization set in. “There’s a town just a few miles away! We can get to a phone—”
“Six miles to the north, Mattie. It will be a tough hike to say the least. But if we hustle we can make it before dark.”
“We can do it.”
“We haven’t eaten. We don’t have gear or clothing.”
“Cutter, I can do it.” Newfound determination hardened her voice. “I’ll do anything to stop this nightmare. I’ll do even more to prove I’m innocent.”
Staring into her pretty eyes, he didn’t have the heart to tell her that she might never get the chance.
MATTIE WAS NO STRANGER to physical exhaustion. In the past forty-eight hours she had become intimately familiar with its every facet. But the trek to Silver Lake, a small ski town in the Canadian province of Alberta, took her beyond exhaustion to a whole new level of misery. Several times, she considered giving up. Just lying down in the snow and letting hypothermia take her to a place where she didn’t have to hurt. Only the hope of clearing her name and getting her life back kept her going.
And Sean Cutter.
For the first time since their ordeal had begun, he talked to her. Not as a federal agent, but person to person. He encouraged her. He held her hand when she needed it. He egged her on when all she wanted to do was collapse. He carried her when she finally dropped.
They reached Silver Lake at dusk. It was like stepping into a Bavarian wonderland. Christmas lights adorned ornate streetlamps. Yellow light slanted through the mullioned windows of the storefronts, cafes and shops along the main street.
Mattie took it all in with a weary sense of awe. “I can’t believe we made it,” she said as they stepped onto the cobblestone sidewalk.
Cutter shot her a smile, touched her shoulder. “You did good, Mattie.”
“I want to take a bath. I want to eat a six-course meal and sleep for a week.”
“I’ll settle for a bed and clean sheets.”
“Speaking of.” She pointed to a Tudor style bed and breakfast just off the main street.
“Let’s hope they have a vacancy,” he said.
It did not elude Mattie that Cutter kept looking over his shoulder or that his eyes continuously scanned the cars moving along the street and the tourists walking the sidewalks. She knew there was a possibility that The Jaguar or some of his men had followed them here. But she was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that she didn’t have the energy to care.
The clerk greeted them with a halfhearted smile when they entered the bed and breakfast. “Welcome to the Chateau Maurier.”
Mattie arched a brow when Cutter spoke to him in fluent French. “What did he say?” she asked.
Cutter grimaced. “They have one room. One bed.”
It gave her pause, but only for a moment. “One of us can sleep on the floor.”
He turned back to the clerk. “We’ll take it.”
Cutter paid with cash, and a few minutes later they were opening the door of an A-frame cabin. Once they were inside the first thing Mattie noticed was the warmth. A fire crackled merrily in a beautiful stone hearth. The smell of cloves and sage filled the air. A bowl of ripe fruit sat on the small table. Through the bedroom door, she saw a tall bed piled high with frilly pillows.
“I don’t know whether to eat or shower or sleep first,” she said.
Cutter smiled, but Mattie sensed an underlying tension she didn’t quite understand. Crossing to the table, he picked up two oranges, passed one to her and began to peel the other. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll go round us up something a little more substantial to eat.”
“I’ll have two of everything,” she quipped. “Something rich and French and—” She cut the words short when he just stood there saying nothing. Suddenly it dawned on her that they were not here for relaxation. She was his prisoner. An assignment. He was going to take her back so she could begin her prison sentence. Reality crashed down with all the weight of a boulder.
“Are you going to cuff me to the bed while you’re gone?” she asked.
“I was going to tell you to lock the door and not let anyone in.”
Uneasiness washed over her. She glanced toward the window. The door. “You think The Jaguar is here?”
“I think he’s a determined and ruthless son of a bitch. It’s only a matter of time before he finds us.”
Mattie knew Cutter wasn’t going to sit around and let that happen. He didn’t say the words, but she knew he had to call his superiors at whatever agency he worked for. He was going to tell them he had her in custody. Then they were going to come for her.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He gave her a hard look as he opened the door. “Lock the door behind me and don’t let anyone in.”
Mattie watched him disappear into the night, then closed the door and set the dead bolt. She should have been relieved to be safe and warm and alive. But there was a knot in her gut the size of Montana. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point in the past two days Sean Cutter had become more friend than persecutor. It hurt to know he was going to turn her over to the authorities. Mattie wasn’t sure what she’d been hoping for, but it wasn’t that.
Attributing her melancholy mood to exhaustion, she headed toward the bathroom, shed the poncho and flipped on the light. The image of herself in the mirror caused her to gasp. Her clothes were torn and dirty. Soot streaked her face. Her hair looked as if some big bird had nested in it. She couldn’t help it; she laughed out loud. It was either that or cry.
She turned on the shower, stepped beneath the spray and let the hot water beat down on her. Putting her face in her hands, she sobbed and tried desperately not to think about spending the rest of her life in prison.
CUTTER PICKED UP clothes at a local boutique and two cell phones at a small electronics store. He found a sandwich shop one block over and stopped in for sandwiches and soft drinks.
On his way back he kept an eye on the streets and sidewalks, but no one seemed unduly interested in him. To make sure he wasn’t followed, he circled the block twice and cut through an alley before heading to the bed and breakfast.
He unlocked the door and was immediately aware of the sound of the shower. As he set the food on the table, he tried hard not to think about Mattie, but his efforts were in vain. In his mind’s eye he saw water sluicing over milky flesh. He saw soap bubbles clinging to secret curves. He saw her head thrown back in ecstasy as he drove into her…
“Smells wonderful.”
Cutter never blushed. But standing there, semierect and indulging in thoughts he had no business indulging in, heat crept into his cheeks.
“Are you all right?” Concern darkened her eyes as she crossed the room to him.
The fluffy white robe was two sizes too big, but at that moment Cutter thought he’d never seen a more beautiful woman. Her wet hair was slicked back, revealing her high cheekbones and porcelain skin. Her brows were thin and very dark, offsetting her big, pretty eyes. Her hands were red and chapped from the cold, but her bones were fine. Even her feet were sexy.
“I’m fine,” he growled, but he broke a sweat beneath his flannel shirt.
Before he could turn away, she reached out and pressed her fingertips to his forehead. “My God,” she said, “You’re perspiring. I think you may have a fever.”
He had a fever all right. But the heat running through his veins had nothing to do with being sick. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Turning away from her, he started for the bathroom.
“Cutter?”
He stopped, but didn’t face her. “What is it?”
“We haven’t talked a
bout what’s going to happen next.”
He felt a hard tug of regret. He knew all too well what he had to do. What he had been putting off. He had to contact Martin Wolfe and tell him he had Mattie Logan in custody. Within hours two agents would arrive to transport her to prison. Hell, he should have contacted Martin Wolfe the instant he arrived in town. He should have her cuffed and shackled for when the agents arrived to transport her to prison…
Instead he was sharing a meal with her and fantasizing about all the things he wanted to do to her….
“I’m dead on my feet,” he said. “We’ll talk after I get cleaned up. After we eat.”
Not wanting to see the hurt on her face, he turned and started for the shower.
CUTTER FELT ALMOST HUMAN after he’d washed off the grime and cold. His ribs were severely bruised, but none of the wounds appeared to be infected. Wrapping himself in a navy-blue robe, he left the bathroom. Mattie had set out the sandwiches and cut up several pieces of fruit. She was sitting at the table with her face in her hands looking bone weary.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he said. “You could have eaten.”
“My parents raised me to have good manners.” She shot him a smile that was more sad than wry. “But then, I don’t think anyone cares about good manners in prison, do they?”
Cutter didn’t know what to say. He sank into a chair and reached for his sandwich. “Eat,” he said.
Neither of them spoke as they delved into their food. But it wasn’t a comfortable silence. There was a tension between them that hadn’t been there before.
“Cutter, after everything we’ve been through, the least you can do is tell me what’s going to happen next,” she said after a moment.
“I’ve got to check in. File a report.”
“And then?”
“Our being in Canada will complicate things a little, but the agency has a lot of pull when it comes to cutting through jurisdictional red tape.” He sighed. “Once that’s taken care of, a couple of U.S. Marshals will pick you up here and you’ll be transported to a secure location. You’ll be asked to give a statement that will go on record. From there you’ll be taken to a federal prison.”
“I didn’t do it,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go to prison.”
“Mattie, I told you I’d look into your case.”
“Daniel Savage is a smart man. He was care ful. My defense attorney was good. She and her army of investigators couldn’t find anything to save me. What makes you think you can?”
“I’m better.”
“You’re not going to risk your career for the likes of me. You don’t know me. You don’t care about—”
“I care,” he said.
“If you cared you would not turn me in.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is if you want it to be.”
Cutter set down his sandwich and gave her a hard look. “Doing the right thing and doing what I want are not one and the same.”
“What is it you want, Cutter?” Throwing down her napkin, she rose abruptly. “Justice? The truth?”
“I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“Yeah? Well here’s a newsflash for you—you’re not. I’m innocent and you’re doing your utmost to send me to prison. What can possibly be right about that?”
“I can’t bend the rules because they don’t suit you,” he said. “Damn it, I have to go about this the right way. There’s protocol. I’ll need proof before I can help you.”
“Don’t tell me about protocol or proof or right and wrong. My life is destroyed. If you take me back none of that is going to save me.”
Angry now, Cutter flung down his napkin and surged to his feet. “A little trust on your part would go a long way right now.”
“Trusting the wrong person is how I got into this mess in the first place,” she returned.
“I’m nothing like Savage,” he said.
“No, you’re just a little more up-front about wanting to ruin my life.”
“Damn it, Mattie, I care.”
“Care about what?” she said. “Protocol?”
He looked into her eyes. “You,” he said, and started toward her.
Chapter Eleven
Mattie stared at Cutter. The draw she felt to him was like a powerful magnet, pulling her with undeniable force.
“It’s the truth.” Cutter stopped a scant foot away from her. So close she could smell the soap from his shower. “You don’t spend two days with someone fighting for your life and not know what they’re made of.”
“Thank you for saying that,” she said after a moment.
“Try to be patient,” he said. “Trust me. Can you do that?”
She studied him for a long time. Such a hardened face. But his eyes did not lie. “Okay.”
“Sit back down and eat.”
Feeling more relaxed, she returned to her chair and sat. But her mind was spinning. Did he truly care about her? Or would he forget about her once she was locked away.
Trust me.
Oh, how she wanted to put her trust in him. But Mattie had been badly burned by Daniel Savage. She knew Cutter was nothing like him. Still, the one thing the two men did share was an agenda. Cutter’s was to take her in.
It was the one thing she could not allow.
They ate without speaking. When Mattie finished, she rose and walked to the window and looked out at the snowy landscape beyond. She chose her next words carefully. “The Jaguar can clear me, Cutter.”
“We have to catch him first.”
“I agree.” She turned, watched his eyes narrow. “The best, maybe the only way to catch him is staring you right in the face. For some reason you’re not seeing it.”
“Don’t go there, Mattie.”
“Use me as bait.”
“No,” he said flatly.
“You know it will work.”
“I know it’s a bad idea.”
“Bad for whom?”
“For you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Don’t you see? All of us win. You get your man. I get cleared. And we nab this bastard once and for all.”
His jaw flexed. “If he gets his hands on you, he’ll kill you.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“I’m not.”
“It’s my decision.”
“The hell it is,” he said. “Damn it, Mattie, you have no idea what that son of a bitch is capable of.”
“I think I do.”
A rough sound that was supposed to be a laugh ground from his throat. “You don’t have a clue.”
“I know that I’d rather face death than life in prison for something I didn’t do!”
Cutter jumped to his feet. When Mattie turned away, he grabbed her arm, and with his other hand he ripped open his shirt. Buttons flew and bounced on the floor. He worked the shirt from his body and flung it onto the back of a chair. Then he turned his back to her.
She gasped at the sight of the angry red scars crisscrossing his back. It was as if his flesh had been melted, removed and then dribbled back on like hot wax. It struck her that even when she’d treated his bullet wound, he’d never allowed her to see his back. Now she knew why, and her heart shattered.
“My God,” she heard herself say. “Cutter…”
“This is what he’s capable of,” he said in a low voice. “Take a good long look before you decide you want to use yourself as bait.”
Mattie put her hand over her mouth in shock. She knew the physical wounds on this man’s back had long since healed. But how could someone ever recover from such a terrible ordeal? Cutter had suffered agonies she couldn’t imagine. What kind of monster could do some thing like this? The knowledge that this had been intentionally done by another human being outraged her, sickened her.
“The Jaguar did that to you?” she asked.
“Took him fourteen hours, but he got the job done.” Cutter turned to her, his face an unread able mask. “Take m
y word for it. You don’t want to cross him.”
Her mind was reeling. She’d always suspected there was something personal between Cutter and The Jaguar. Now she knew what that something was, and it horrified her. “I’m sorry,” she heard herself say.
“Don’t be.” Bending he snatched his shirt from the floor. “Those scars keep me focused. They help me do my job.”
She didn’t know what to say. She remembered the nightmare he’d wakened from and wondered what agonies were locked inside his head.
He started to put on the shirt. Before Mattie realized she was going to move she was out of the chair and going to him. She didn’t know what she was going to do once she reached him. All she knew was that this man had suffered horribly. The need to take away his pain, to give him what little comfort she could superceded the need for caution, the need to protect herself.
He jolted when she put her hand on his shoulder. Surprise and caution and another emotion she couldn’t quite read filled his eyes when he turned to her.
“He hurt you,” she said.
“I screwed up. The Jaguar upheld his reputation.”
“Cutter, he’s a monster.”
“My point exactly.” He made another attempt to pull on the shirt. When she stopped him, he shot her a questioning look. “Mattie…”
“You don’t have to hide them from me.”
“They’re…grotesque.”
“They’re not,” she whispered. “They’re part of you.”
“A part of me you don’t want to know.”
“Maybe I do. Maybe I want to know all of you.”
His gaze searched hers with an intensity that had her heart racing. “We both know this can’t go anywhere.”
She could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Caution flickered in his eyes when she raised her hand and touched his cheek.
“Don’t,” he said, but the word was little more than a puff of breath on his lips.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not a strong enough man to stop you.”
“Or maybe deep inside you know I’m not what they say I am,” she said, and raised her mouth to his.
CUTTER HAD KNOWN this moment would come. He’d known it was inevitable. As a federal agent he knew he should resist. But as a man, powerfully attracted to her, he suddenly didn’t care about right or wrong or repercussions.