Texas Wildcat Page 8

  He gave Sam a measuring look. “She is your wife?”

  “No.”

  “Ahh, then your slave?”

  “Now look here—” Kelly objected heatedly.

  “Shut up, Kelly.”

  “That is more like it,” the sheik praised, directing all his attention to Sam. “The color of her hair matches her temper. If she is not your wife, then I will make you an offer, Mr. Tyler,” he continued, ignoring Kelly completely, as if she didn’t exist. “I have one of the finest racing camel herds on the Rub al Khali. I will give you ten of my best camels for her.”

  Kelly gasped, jerking free of Sam’s arm and positioning herself between both men. “Now you listen to me, you damn chauvinist—”

  Sam growled an epithet and yanked open the truck door. “Dammit,” he hissed, “get in that truck and get back to the camp! Now.”

  She gave Sam a shaken look, chilled by his sudden change. His face was stony, his eyes nearly black as he slammed the door. Kelly glared one last time at the sheik, both pleased and terrified that the Bedouin’s face was livid with rage. Without a word, she started up the truck and drove off, leaving the two men to face one another.

  Sam turned slowly to the sheik. Fear clashed with anger inside him. Kelly had done more damage than she could ever realize. The Bedouin was trembling. No woman could speak to a man, according to their customs, like she had, and get away without punishment. And Sam had been to these parts enough times to realize her gaffe was going to create problems. “Look,” he ground out, “she is not for sale at any price. She is Coots’s daughter. She is my woman.”

  Hassad’s eyes became slits as he regarded the American. “You are in my country,” he reminded him in a steely voice. “Our women are not allowed into such areas as this. If you take the responsibility of bringing that devil with red hair here, then she must behave properly or be punished.”

  “There will be no punishment. You want that well capped? What if we leave? What will your government think of your actions? It wouldn’t look good if trouble over a woman is the cause of this well not being put out.”

  Hassad drew himself erect, his black eyes blazing with the awful light of righteous anger. “She has insulted me. The law forbids me to allow her to go unpunished.”

  “I’ll punish her myself,” Sam gritted out. At that instant, he wanted to wrap his hands around Kelly’s slender white throat and throttle her.

  “I will extract my own form of justice,” Hassad snarled.

  Sam tensed. “Don’t threaten me.”

  The sheik appraised him. “It was a woman who insulted me, not you. She will answer to me. You and I have no quarrel.”

  Sam reached out, his fingers sinking deeply into the sheik’s forearm. “Now look,” he rasped, “drop the idea of punishing her. She is my property and I’ll deal with her in my own way. Understand?”

  Hassad jerked his arm away. “I understand perfectly.” He spun around and walked toward his jeep. The entire episode was unresolved.

  “Damn!” Tyler cursed, walking in the direction of the camp. He had been worried about guerrilla activity before. Now Kelly had managed to stir up the local sheik and bruise his ego. Clenching and unclenching his dirty fists, he trudged toward the quarters to confront her.

  He found her in the kitchen shack, preparing coffee. She turned toward him when he entered. Her eyes were ablaze with anger. Wearily, he pulled the white construction hat off his head and dropped it on the makeshift table between them. Her gaze clashed with his.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing out there?” she demanded hotly. “You had no business—”

  “Calm down, Kelly.”

  She set the coffeepot down on the plywood surface with a loud bang. “Calm down? When that bastard made me out to be nothing more than a piece of meat to be sold! Come off it, Sam! How can he say such things?”

  He put up his hand. Damn, she was a hellion when she got her back up. “Because we’re in his country,” he roared back. “Now sit down here and talk with me. I don’t want to start a screaming match.” His blue eyes met her glare. “Come on,” he coaxed, “sit down here with me. This is far more serious than you realize.”

  Her shoulders slumped and suddenly she was exhausted. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’m sorry I started screaming at you. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “If I had been in your shoes, I’d probably have decked him,” Sam confided.

  Kelly sat down dejectedly. “I was minding my own business, Sam. Can’t I even give water to our men without seeming to be a liberated female to these Bedouins?”

  He rubbed his face tiredly. “No. But it doesn’t matter.” He gripped her hand. “Look, you insulted Hassad in the worst possible manner. Women never talk directly to their men over here, much less curse at them. He’s angry and he wants revenge.”

  “What kind of revenge?” she asked slowly, her heart beginning to pound.

  Sam released her hand. “Hell, I don’t know. I told him if he didn’t leave you alone, we’d leave his damn gas well uncapped and go home.”

  She blinked. “You would?”

  “Absolutely. Coots made it clear to the government officials that you were to be treated as a member of our team or else. Above all, Kelly, you’re going to have to watch what you say. I know it isn’t fair, but who said everything in life was fair?”

  His words sobered her. “You’re right…Thank God you came when you did. I was so frightened. He meant business…” Her voice became inaudible.

  “The incident may blow over, providing you make yourself scarce.” He allowed himself a small grin. “And as long as you don’t mind being known as my woman around the site.”

  She gazed into his eyes, feeling incredibly happy at his nearness. “I don’t mind at all,” she reassured him fervently. Shakily, she buried her face in her hands. “Everything’s so alien, Sam,” she said in a muffled voice. “It’s horrible! The heat’s bad enough but the Bedouins’ attitude toward women is…is…

  In one motion, Sam was on his feet and around the table, pulling her into his arms. His large hands spanned her slender waist and he drew her against him. “Come here,” he ordered huskily. “It’ll be all right. You’re just tired and it’s been one hell of a long day.”

  Kelly shuddered, finding solace against him. She was wildly aware of his maleness, of his hand on her waist, drawing her daringly to his hips. Her pulse throbbed, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of incredible longing. She slid her hands across his massive chest, encircling his neck with her arms. He groaned and his grip tightened convulsively around her straining body.

  “Kelly…” he whispered. She was so spirited, so willing, so feminine. Capturing her chin with his callused hand, he tilted her head up to meet his descending mouth. He grazed her lips, glorying in the pliancy of her flesh beneath his own. He felt her shudder and pressed his mouth more insistently on hers. Her lips parted at his demand. He heard her moan softly as he deepened his exploration of her honied depths. Her breathing became chaotic; her nipples hardened beneath the material of her coveralls. Slowly, he left her willing lips and stared darkly into her open eyes.

  He hadn’t meant to kiss her. But it had seemed so right. So…he groped for explanations but none would come. His body throbbed with hunger for her. His gaze dropped back to her mouth, now wet and pouty from his kiss. He felt instant regret. He hadn’t meant to hurt her with the bruising kiss but they had come together like fire and oil, igniting yearnings he had never experienced before. He gently traced the outline of her jaw.

  “You’re one hell of a woman,” he murmured gruffly, his voice unsteady.

  Kelly inhaled deeply. She was trembling to the core of her being. There was no longer any doubt in her mind or heart that she was Sam Tyler’s woman. That one kiss had been savage but it had claimed her heart, body and soul for him. Weakly, she leaned against his arms. “I could say similar things about you,” she added breathlessly. Her whole body craved further con
tact with Sam. She lifted her auburn lashes, meeting his azure gaze. “Oh, Sam…” she whispered faintly. Her body sang in triumph. She saw the beginning of a tender smile on his mouth as he leaned down.

  This time, his kiss was infinitely gentle, searching, cajoling her to participate in their mutual discovery of one another. She drank deeply of his mouth. Their tongues entwined, stroking and teasing one another. It was a kiss celebrating the joy they found in one another, a joy that had been a long time in coming, but was all the more potent for the wait.

  Sam drew away, drinking in her flushed features. Her green eyes were seductive looking, her lips parted. He reluctantly put her at arm’s length, a thoughtful smile pulling at one corner of his mouth.

  His fingers tightened momentarily around her torso. It would be easy to slide his hands up her ribcage and caress those small, erect breasts….

  He ignored his selfish desire. One look at her blissful features and he knew that she was his. It was a matter of time and patience, he told himself severely. A woman like Kelly Blanchard would not allow herself to be pushed into anything. His blue eyes were rueful. “I think I’d better let you sit down before you fall down.”

  Kelly mutely agreed, her knees feeling like jelly. She couldn’t trust her voice.

  “Did you put any coffee in that percolator while you were rummaging around in here?” he asked, breaking the spell that bound them.

  “No.” Her voice was wispy. She saw Sam smile down at her.

  “You okay?” he murmured, helping her to a chair.

  “Give me five minutes and I’ll let you know.”

  “You look beautiful to me,” he teased, reaching over and picking up the coffeepot.

  A tender smile played across her lips as she watched him make coffee. The heat was stifling in the trailer, but she was unaware of it. All her attention was centered on the man working quietly in the crowded space. Despite his large hands, he made even delicate work look easy. He proceeded to discuss the digging of the three huge earthen pits that would soon be lined with plastic and filled with the nearby well water.

  Minutes later Kelly held the cup of coffee between her hands, sipping the hot liquid.

  “As soon as we get those pits filled, we’ll find out how well the pipe will stand up,” he went on, sitting down across from her. “I intend to gradually increase the pressure of the water flowing through those pipes to the monitors.”

  Kelly tried to focus on the business at hand. She ran the fingers of one hand through her hair in a nervous gesture. She was behaving like a love-starved woman. Well, wasn’t she? How many years ago had Todd stopped loving her? I’ve got to get hold of myself, she thought, feeling panic. Could any man have made her feel this way? Or only Sam Tyler?

  * * *

  By ten p.m. they began clearing the debris away from the base of the destroyed rig. Kelly joined Sam, watching as a sixty-foot-long crane with a huge hook assembly on one end was attached to an Athey wagon. It was then pushed along the scorched desert floor toward the blazing fire storm. Coots Matthews was directing the whole operation with hand signals.

  Sam had jury-rigged three unmanned monitors so that thousands of gallons of water spewed out in a fog pattern upon the fire. The water cooled the area from twenty-five hundred degrees to five hundred degrees, allowing the Athey wagons close enough to pick up the debris. The heat was intense near the gas well. The hissing of steam mingled with the roar of the gas being released from the bowels of the earth. Kelly stood near a flatbed, arms folded against her breast as she watched Sam climb up on one bulldozer.

  The athey wagon, a miniature bulldozer without a cab, was unmanned and it took the brunt of heat from the blowout. Worriedly, Kelly watched as Sam urged the operator of the bulldozer closer and closer to the fire. The roar of the holocaust forced everyone to wear earplugs. She was amazed at the multitude of hand signals the team members flashed back and forth to one another to coordinate the gigantic effort.

  The effects of jet lag and the stress of the day were taking their toll on Kelly. Finally, after watching the operation for more than an hour, she turned in. The shacks had little more in the way of bedding than cotton mats on which to sleep. She had been assigned a small room in the rear where the air conditioner was positioned. Sam would take no argument from her, telling her she needed the coolest room because she was not used to the extreme temperature. Reluctantly, Kelly agreed. The low-watt bulb in the bathroom provided enough light for her to wash. The water was tepid as she scrubbed herself clean.

  Feeling almost human, she slipped into a light cotton nightgown of pale pink and padded softly to her room. Kelly stared at the door. Should she leave it ajar so that the coolness of the air conditioning would continue to spread throughout the entire area? Sam had told her in no uncertain terms to lock the door. Still, she felt guilty. She didn’t want to rob the men of what little coolness was available. Images of their sweaty, strained faces danced before her tired eyes. To hell with it, she decided wearily, I’m leaving it open.

  Curling up on the thick mat, Kelly quickly fell into a deep slumber. Outside the small window the yellow and orange glow created an eerie light. But even the light and the freight-train roar of the blowout didn’t prevent Kelly from falling asleep.

  Seven

  Shadowy figures crept like ghosts through the quiet shack. Needle in hand, one of them stole into the last bedroom. Deftly, he slid the hypo into the sleeping woman’s thigh. A brief moan came from her as she roused incoherently from sleep, her hand moving instinctively to her leg. He crouched down on his haunches, waiting…watching. A smile edged his lips. It was too late for her to help herself. Within thirty seconds the white-skinned woman with the fiery red hair would slide into a heavily drugged state. Satisfied, he stood, turned and motioned to his accomplices to join him. Within moments they had wrapped her unconscious body in a dark wool burnoose and slid a large burlap bag over her head and shoulders. At a quick nod from the leader, one of the men hoisted her easily upon his thickly muscled shoulder, and they hurried out of the shack.

  * * *

  Sam wearily entered the porta-camp, throwing his dirty hard hat on the table. Boots, Coots and Colly followed closely behind. It was almost three a.m. and exhaustion showed on every man’s face. Sam glanced down the hall toward the sleeping quarters. He frowned. Why the hell was Kelly’s door open? Cursing under his breath, he walked toward it. Damn her. He had told her to lock it. Moving quietly, he gripped the doorknob and pushed it back just enough to check on her. His eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. Scowling, he stared down at the empty pallet in the corner.

  “Kelly?” he called, stepping inside. His heart began a slow pound as he approached the sleeping mat. Kneeling down, he touched it, his throat constricting. It was cool to his hand. Glancing around, he stood up. Maybe she was in another room…. Quickly, he checked the other two.

  “Boots, Coots,” Sam called, returning to the dining room area.

  Boots wearily raised his blond head. “Yeah?”

  Sam’s eyes were dark with fear. “Kelly. She isn’t here.”

  Coots looked up scowling. “What are you talking about?”

  Fear ate at Sam. “Maybe she’s in the other shack. I’m going over to check.”

  He came back after five minutes, his face hardened. “She’s gone,” Sam said.

  Boots looked at his partner. “This smells,” he growled, rising.

  “It’s the sheik,” Sam hissed.

  “What are you talking about?” Boots demanded, his face betraying his agitation.

  “Kelly had a run-in with Sheik Hassad earlier today. He wanted to punish her for showing him disrespect. I told him to keep his hands off her, that Kelly was my woman.” Sam angrily ran his fingers through his damp hair. “Damn it, anyway!”

  Coots’s mouth turned into a grim line. “We’d better move fast on this one. White slavery is damned profitable over here.” He cast a look over at Sam. “I wonder if Hassad wants Kelly for himself or i
f he’s gonna sell her outright.”

  Tyler released a string of oaths. “Where’s his camp? I’ll take a truck out there right now.”

  Boots gripped Sam’s arm. “He’s stupider than I thought. He was told earlier she was Coots’s daughter. Is he out of his mind?”

  Sam jerked one of the metal suitcases from beneath the bench, quickly unlocking it with the proper combination. Inside were holsters and .357 magnum pistols. Grabbing one, he buckled it around his waist. “Coots, I think you’d better come with me since Kelly is supposed to be your daughter.”

  “You going to confront him now?” Boots asked.

  Sam’s eyes flashed with anger and fear. “Hell yes. If he’s thinking of shipping Kelly out of the country, I don’t want to give him a head start.” He jerked a look over at Coots. “You coming?”

  “Yeah, you bet. Hand me that other pistol,” he ordered.

  “What about this well?” Boots asked.

  Sam turned at the door. “You tell the government, if we don’t get their cooperation in this matter, we’ll let it burn until doomsday.”

  Boots agreed. “Look, I’ll grab the head honcho right now and find out where Hassad’s camp is located. I’ll continue to coordinate from this end. Take one of the portable radios. That way, we’ll be in contact.”

  Sam nodded, picking up the radio he normally carried in his belt. “Good idea,” he agreed.

  * * *

  Kelly moaned, and a shaft of pain shot through her head. She rolled listlessly onto her back. Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton balls and her throat was dry for lack of water. Her eyelids felt as if a hundred tons of weight had been placed upon them. She forced them open. Where was she? Sounds, different sounds from the ones at the blowout, drifted into her consciousness. The soft whinny of nearby horses mingled with the muted bleating of goats or sheep. Pain forced her to lie still. Groaning, Kelly held her head and curled up into a fetal position.