Читать книгу To Tame a Bride - Susan Fox, Susan Fox P. - Страница 9

CHAPTER THREE

LINC SAW THE TERROR in her eyes. He could also see that she was in shock. Madison St. John might be vain and obsessed with her looks, but she wasn’t stupid. She had at least enough common sense to know they couldn’t carry everything out of the mountains with them. Her fixation on her luggage was a denial of what lay ahead for them both: a long and probably dangerous hike through the wilderness. And certainly the worst hardship imaginable for a pampered little aristocrat like her.

He felt the weight of the valium bottle in his pocket. If she couldn’t cope with life’s little jiggles without sedation, she’d never get through this. Instinct warned him not to coddle her. If he did, she’d go to pieces. If he could tap into her legendary temper and distract her, they’d both be better off.

He released her. He ignored the way she rubbed the wrist he’d touched, almost as if she was trying to soothe away pain. There shouldn’t have been any pain for her to soothe.

He hesitated a moment more to study her pale face. She wasn’t looking at him now; she was staring to the left of the suitcase into the grass. Her slim, perfectly manicured fingers still circled her wrist, but the soothing motion she made was an absent one. Clearly, her mind was on other things—and from the stark look of vulnerability about her—she was about to fall apart.

Linc glanced into the suitcase. He spied a small, neatly folded stack of frilly panties and grabbed them. They were the first things he sent sailing into the grass, making sure they landed in the exact spot her eyes were focused on. A flimsy scrap of bra followed before he got down to business with the contents of her suitcase and silently counted the seconds.

Two...three...

“How dare you?”

She’d used that low cat growl again. He pretended to ignore her as he lifted out a sky-blue satin robe and stripped the tie belt from its loops. He discarded the robe beside the suitcase, but tossed the belt toward the duffel bag. He added two rolls of thick white socks to the satin belt, and a stack of packaged panty hose. Next, a fold of netting got his attention and he pulled it out. It was a bag, probably for dirty clothes, and it was a good size. He gripped the netting in his hands and gave it a stout yank to test its strength before he tossed it to the pile on top of the duffel bag.

Madison looked on, appalled at his rough treatment of her belongings. It was clear that he only meant to select a few odds and ends from her suitcase before he forced her to leave everything else behind. She clutched the wad of panties and bra to herself. My God she couldn’t go anywhere without clean underwear! The fact that he’d thrown her most intimate apparel into the grass with bugs and chiggers infuriated her.

Wary of him because he was so rough with her things, Madison cautiously reached for the satin robe and bundled her underwear in it. She retrieved the net bag from the top of his duffel and stuffed the rolled robe into it.

Linc got out her shoebag next and rummaged through it, selecting the athletic shoes she’d had packed. He tossed them in her direction and they fell to the ground at her feet.

“Put those on and take the laces out of the boots you’re wearing.”

Madison stared down at the shoes, then at the lightweight boots. “These are hiking boots,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady while she defied the order. She’d accidentally glimpsed the dense wall of trees on the other side of the high meadow. The sensation of wilderness creeping closer was strong again. Arguing with Linc was the only thing she could think of to distract herself from mindless terror.

“Fakes,” he said bluntly. “The leather’s like paper compared to the other pair.”

Madison stared down at the white athletic shoes, her thoughts racing. The very fact that he’d ordered her to switch her faux hiking boots for sturdy athletic shoes suggested that he anticipated an ordeal far more lengthy and arduous than a short hike in the woods. And he was right about the boots. The leather was flimsy compared to the Nikes.

“Change the damned shoes, Princess. We’ve only got so much daylight.”

The terse order brought her eyes to his face, but he wasn’t looking at her. He grabbed the things he’d discarded and crammed them back into her suitcase before he closed the lid and pressed down on the latches. Then he unzipped her garment bag to paw through the carefully pressed clothing in there. He added another belt to the pile, then two crisply pressed pairs of jeans and two cotton blouses.

Madison quickly grabbed the jeans and blouses and packed them into the net bag. Thank goodness she wouldn’t have to fight with him about extra clothes. At least she’d have something clean to wear later.

Later.

How much later? How many hours would it take to walk back to civilization?

Her next thought—that she might not get to Aspen in time to catch her mother—set off an explosion of panic.

“How long will it take to get to Aspen?”

Linc looked at her then, his mouth shifting into a sarcastic slant as he harshly surveyed her from head to foot. “The way you’re movin’, about a month.” He swiftly zipped the garment bag and shoved it toward the suitcase before he stood.

Madison couldn’t seem to move as the implication of not getting to Aspen in time began to impact her. If she embarrassed her mother with her new husband by not showing up, she’d never hear from Roz again. She’d forever lose the chance to be close to her. Roz would never know she’d outgrown her homeliness. She’d never know a moment’s sorrow for giving up on her only child and abandoning her.

“Get busy, sweetheart.”

The order snapped her out of her thoughts. The way he’d said the word “sweetheart” was no endearment. She-hated the male condescension in his low drawl. And she loathed the pet name, “Princess”.

Her gaze narrowed with sudden inspiration.

“Right away...Ace,” she answered, the stiff stretch of lips she gave him hinting at an acid smile. She had the satisfaction of seeing a glint of reaction in his dark eyes, and let her lips stretch a fraction wider to signal how much she savored the little dig.

Feeling she’d avenged herself in some small way, she stepped over to sit on her large suitcase to change her shoes. By the time she’d worked the laces from the hiking boots, Line had packed everything but her net bag of clothing into his duffel bag.

Having second thoughts about the hiking boots—she hated being limited to one pair of shoes—she slipped them into the net bag.

And then Linc was walking away from her toward the trees on the other side of the meadow, his long stride rapidly putting distance between them.

In her rush to gather her purse and the net bag to catch up with him, Madison almost missed getting the small case that held her cosmetics and toiletries. She slung her purse strap over one shoulder, the cord of the net bag over the other, then picked up the small case to hurry after Linc.

She’d gone half a dozen steps before she managed to trip on a thick tuft of meadow grass and fall flat.

Line set a pace he knew was brutal for Madison. He wasn’t doing it to be cruel, but to hurry her along so fast that she’d pay more attention to keeping up with him than on the predicament they were in.

And he knew enough about her poison-pill personality to guess that her little “Ace” dig was the prelude to a major tirade on the subject of the crash. She had the potential to harangue him every step of the way if he gave her an opportunity.

He assumed the fastest course out of the mountains was to keep walking downhill. They needed to find a stream and a safe place to camp before dark. Once the sun dropped behind the western peaks they’d lose the light. Her Highness wouldn’t take that well at all.

At least they’d be able to start a fire. He had matches and a lighter, but they’d need water. They could miss a few meals, but they could only go so long without water. Finding a stream might also mean that they could catch some fish and solve the problem of food.

He glanced over his shoulder at Madison. She was still carrying that damned little suitcase. She’d crisscrossed her purse strap and the cord from the net bag over her chest to free her hands, but she carried the little suitcase as if it contained a bottle of nitroglycerin.

Maybe it did. It held enough cosmetics and grooming items to rival a makeup counter, as well as a small drugstore of over-the-counter medications. He’d seen women’s toiletries and personal care collections before, but Maddie’s put them all to shame. Who had time to use everything she carried with her?

And for what? Madison St. John was a natural beauty. She should have been able to wash her face, comb her hair and walk out of her mansion looking like a million bucks. Instead, she painted over her natural good looks as if she were trying to smuggle a troll out of the house.

He hadn’t made a fuss about her bringing the small case because he’d recognized that at least a few of the things in her collection might come in handy if they couldn’t find their way to civilization soon. He hoped for a ranger’s station, a private cabin or a hunting lodge with a telephone, but the chance of that was slim at best. He couldn’t guess at how many square miles of wilderness lay around them. Finding anyone else in so vast a place by accident would be impossible.