The Reluctant Lark

  She shivered and nestled closer to him. “At least I didn’t play crack the whip with it,” she said tartly. She closed her eyes in rejection of that ghastly memory. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

  “Right. I’d rather move on to more important matters anyway. When are you going to marry me?”

  He was the most impossibly ruthless man she had ever run across, Sheena thought crossly. He was following up on her admission with his usual blunt determination, hoping to conquer all resistance in her present weakened state. Well, he had already gained all the victory he was going to that day. There was no way she was going to tell him that he had won hands down and that she would follow him barefoot around the world if he asked her to. She would save that for a time when he was not quite so satisfied with himself.

  Sheena pushed him away and sat up. She carefully dusted herself off before answering him. “I don’t recall that the situation has changed. Why should I suddenly decide to marry you just because I’ve discovered what a reckless idiot you can be? I should think that would be an exceptionally weighty argument against it.”

  He sat up, also brushing the dust from his clothes. He appeared not at all upset by her refusal as he stood up and pulled her to her feet. His expression was eminently satisfied, and his golden eyes held only a tender amusement as he took her hand in his and led her toward the chestnut mare at the bank. “You’re a stubborn antagonist, Sheena Reardon,” he said softly, his voice like warm velvet. “I won’t push you any more today, love. I’ve gained enough ground to more than satisfy me.”

  He mounted the chestnut swiftly and then reached down to swing her up in front of him. He gave her a lingering kiss on the nape of her neck that caused her heart to start thumping like a tom-tom. “But we both know that I’m winning, don’t we, love?” he whispered hoarsely. “The battle’s almost over.”

  Sheena turned to look at him over her shoulder. There was no triumph in his face at that moment, and she felt her throat tighten with tears at what she did see there. There was loving tenderness and joy and the glowing eagerness of a little boy who was about to receive the blue ribbon for a race well run. God, he was so dear! She heard Rand’s low chuckle beneath her ear as his arms tightened about her and he kicked the chestnut mare into a canter.

  Nine

  “You know, of course, that your shameless seduction of my person is not going to exempt you from a thorough tongue-lashing for running off,” Rand pronounced, his darting tongue teasing her ear and belying the sternness of his tone. “Besides the fact that you turned me into a raving maniac, you might consider what might have resulted if you’d had to dispose of our rattler friend on your own.”

  Sheena settled herself more securely on the chestnut mare, trying to ignore the teasing provocation of Rand’s exploring hands. He had displayed the exuberance of a naughty boy on the ride home to the ranch, and she hadn’t had the heart to quench his bounding good spirits. “Actually, I might have done quite well on my own,” she said loftily. “If you hadn’t come in just at that moment, I was planning on singing to it.”

  “Singing!”

  “Why not? If Indian cobras respond to music, why not American rattlesnakes?”

  “Sheena, my love, I find your throaty little voice utterly enchanting,” Rand said dryly. “But somehow I doubt that the rattlesnake would have been equally appreciative. I would suggest that next time you decide to go on a nature trek that you take a gun.”

  Sheena glanced down at the rifle lodged in the holster on the saddle. “Why didn’t you use your gun instead of taking such a terrible chance?” she asked.

  “I couldn’t risk the bullet passing through the snake and hitting you.” His hand had unbuttoned the middle two buttons of her shirt, and as he spoke one hand slipped inside to cup her bare breast in his hard palm.

  “Rand!” she protested, inhaling deeply. The sudden caress sent a flood of heat surging through her. “Will you stop that?”

  “Nope,” he murmured, biting at her earlobe teasingly. “I never realized that riding a horse could be such an erotic experience. I had my eye on a little Arabian mare to buy for you, but I think we may ride tandem all the time.” His thumb and forefinger were lazily kneading her nipple. “Did I tell you that I love the way your breasts just fit into my hands?”

  “No.” Sheena almost choked as she felt the familiar languid ache begin in her loins. “I don’t believe you did.” Then taking a deep breath, “Rand, I told you to stop that!”

  “Why?” he asked innocently. “It’s very obvious that you like it.” His thumb flicked at the button-hard nipple teasingly, and Sheena felt a shudder of desire run through her.

  “Rand, if you don’t stop that, I’ll get off and walk,” Sheena said with a firmness born of desperation. She could see right now that Rand’s penchant for casual fondling was going to pose myriad problems in their relationship. One of which being that she liked it far too much.

  “Oh, very well.” Rand sighed resignedly as he reluctantly removed his hand and buttoned her shirt. “It might be worth it at that to call your bluff,” he said wistfully. “The house is just over the rise, and you wouldn’t have very far to walk. It’s not even dark yet.”

  “How very gallant.” Sheena snorted indignantly. “It’s not difficult to see where your priorities lie, Rand Challon.”

  “I did warn you about my insatiable lust,” Rand murmured, as he massaged her jean-covered abdomen.

  It was a comparatively safe form of petting, and Sheena found it very soothing. She leaned back against Rand’s hard body and relaxed. “I’ve noticed that you do have tendencies in that direction. However, I think I’ve demonstrated that I can more than handle any demands you might make.”

  “Really?” Rand asked. “You think your recently acquired expertise qualifies you to that extent?”

  “Why not?” Sheena asked airily. “I haven’t observed any—Rand!”

  Rand’s hand had dipped suddenly beneath the waistband of her jeans and was resting on her soft bare belly, his thumb plunging erotically into her navel.

  Challon burst into whoops of laughter, rocking back and forth on the chestnut mare until she thought they would both fall off. When he had finally controlled his amusement to a degree, he removed his hand and gave her an affectionate hug.

  “Sorry, love,” he said, his voice still threaded with laughter. “I couldn’t resist it. I’ll be good.”

  Now he’d be good! It was a fairly safe promise, she thought, since they had topped the rise and the house was only a few minutes away.

  Abruptly she felt Rand’s body stiffening against her like a lion scenting danger, and she looked around at him curiously. In the violet twilight dimness, all the amusement had been wiped from his face, and his features had taken on a wary hardness.

  “What is it?” she asked, startled.

  “It seems we have visitors.”

  Sheena followed his narrowed gaze to the small dark green Datsun parked before the front porch of the house.

  “You’re not expecting anyone?” Sheena asked uneasily.

  Rand shook his head. “I left orders that we weren’t to be disturbed by anyone from Crescent Creek,” he said, kicking the chestnut into a canter.

  They reined up by the hitching rail in front of the house. Both the driver and the passenger doors of the green Datsun suddenly opened, and Sheena gasped, feeling almost dizzy with shock. There was no mistaking the square, powerful figure of Donal O’Shea and the lithe grace of Sean Reilly.

  “Uncle Donal!” she exclaimed, as the two men slammed the car doors and strode purposefully toward them.

  “Hello, Sheena, darlin’,” O’Shea greeted her with the same casual warmth as if he’d seen her just the day before. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Challon’s arms tightened around her involuntarily before he gained control of his reflexes. Then with utmost deliberation, he released her, dismounted swiftly, and lifted her from the horse to the ground.


  “I wasn’t expecting you so soon, O’Shea,” he said, tying the reins to the hitching rail. “You moved faster than I thought you would. I thought you might spend a bit of time exploring the Canadian possibility before you came here.”

  O’Shea shook his head, a gentle smile on his face. “I wouldn’t underestimate you to that extent, Mr. Challon,” he said softly. “You’re a clever man. You wouldn’t risk the lovely Miss Scott ruining your plans without moving at once to rectify the problem. I’ve had a man at Crescent Creek for the past two weeks. When you transferred all the personnel here to the main headquarters, it was a fairly simple assumption that you’d be bringing Sheena here.”

  “Uncle Donal, what are you doing here?” Sheena asked dazedly. The two Irishmen in their dark tweed business suits looked definitely out of place in the bucolic surroundings, she noticed absently, as they came to a halt a few yards from them.

  O’Shea shot her a surprised glance as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Why I’ve come to take you home, Sheena,” he said genially. “I understand that you’ve been ill, but you’re looking rosy as a child now. There’s no reason at all for you not to resume your engagements. You’ll be glad to know that the benefit concert is a complete sell-out.”

  “You didn’t cancel it?” Sheena asked, her eyes widening incredulously. She had completely forgotten about the benefit in the weeks following her abduction. Now she recalled that the New York benefit was scheduled in only three days time.

  O’Shea shook his head. “Of course not,” he said briskly. “I know you better than that, Sheena. I knew that if it was at all possible, you’d wish to honor your obligations.” He smiled. “You’ve never disappointed me before, love. Why should I mistrust you now?”

  “She’s not going back with you, O’Shea,” Rand’s steely voice cut through the air like a surgeon’s scalpel. “Not now, not ever.”

  “But of course she is,” O’Shea asserted. “You’re reputed to be a very persuasive man where women are concerned, Challon, but Sheena knows where her duty lies. She may have been easy for you to lure away from her responsibilities when she was tired and ill, but you’ll not find her so obliging now that Sean and I are here to support her.”

  “Support?” Rand asked. “That’s an odd term to use for the type of subtle coercion you’ve used on Sheena all these years. It amazes me that she’s never recognized your ‘support’ for what it is.”

  “My niece won’t be influenced by your slander, Challon,” O’Shea said gruffly. “She knows that I’ve always taken the greatest care of her. You’ve obviously mistaken her sweet, gentle nature for gullibility.”

  A smile of grim amusement curved Challon’s lips. “I’m afraid I can’t agree with your description of Sheena’s meek, gentle personality,” he said dryly. “Remind me to show you my bruises sometime. You know your niece even less than I thought.”

  “Stop it!” Sheena cried hoarsely, biting her lower lip in distress. “I won’t have the two of you arguing and waltzing verbally about me as if I weren’t even here. You’re both treating me as if I were some sort of mindless doll!”

  “Sorry, dove,” Rand drawled. “I’m afraid this isn’t the situation to exercise your newborn independence. Let me handle it.”

  There was a new element of wariness in O’Shea’s expression as he said smoothly, “I didn’t mean to upset you, darlin’. You know that I only want what’s best for you.”

  Reilly spoke for the first time, a gentle smile on his handsome face. “Donal has always had your interests at heart, Sheena. You know that.”

  “Yes, I know that,” Sheena said wearily. “I’m sorry I spoke rudely, Uncle Donal. It’s just that your arrival was such a surprise that I’m a bit upset.”

  “It’s perfectly understandable, love,” O’Shea said soothingly. “I should have realized that you were still under a strain. Naturally I would have included you in the conversation if I’d known that you wished it.” He grinned with appealing wryness and made a face. “I guess I’ve grown accustomed to trying to shelter you over the years.”

  Rand gave a snort of derision, and Sheena gave him a glance of extreme displeasure. His aggressive attitude wasn’t helping the situation. She was already so confused and upset by the subtle pressure that her uncle was exerting that she was almost in tears. He had been her whole family for too long to just repudiate outright as Rand wanted her to do. Couldn’t he understand how she was being torn between them?

  “I do understand, Uncle Donal,” she said. “It’s just that there’s been a change in the situation. We need to have a long discussion.”

  “To hell with discussions!” Rand said. “You’re not going with him.”

  Sheena’s lips thinned. “That’s up to me, Rand. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me handle my own affairs as I see fit.”

  “You know that I’m always willing to listen, Sheena,” O’Shea said earnestly. “Suppose you drive with us to Houston, and we’ll talk on the way.”

  Rand muttered an impatient curse. “No way. I’m not trusting you out of my sight, Sheena. For God’s sake, can’t you see that he’s manipulating you just as he’s always done!”

  “No, I can’t see that!” Sheena cried, her dark eyes brimming with tears. “You’ve never understood that Uncle Donal isn’t the villain that you think him. He’s my family, and I care very much for him. He deserves better than the way you’re treating him, damn it!”

  O’Shea stepped quickly forward and took her in his arms, patting her shoulder comfortingly. “Easy, lass, don’t get yourself all upset,” he crooned soothingly. “He doesn’t understand about us and what we’ve got to do. He wasn’t there when Rory died.” His large hand cupped her chin tenderly. “Remember how Rory held your hand until the very end, Sheena?”

  Sheena felt a tearing pain shoot through her, and the tears were now running freely down her face. “No, he wasn’t there,” she said brokenly, her eyes dazed. “Rand wasn’t there.”

  “You bastard!” Rand’s voice was filled with such menace that it pierced even Sheena’s misery. “My God, how the hell do you have the nerve to use her brother’s death to whip her into line? Doesn’t it even give you a twinge of guilt to use that particular weapon?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” O’Shea said coldly. “I don’t believe you do either, Mr. Challon.”

  Challon’s golden eyes narrowed dangerously. “But I do know, O’Shea,” he said, his voice like molten steel. “I hoped I could spare Sheena the knowledge of what you are. She’s had enough pain in her life without that cross to bear.” He shook his tawny head in disbelief. “But you won’t let her alone, will you? Rory’s death wasn’t enough. You want another sacrificial lamb to burn on the altar of your damn cause!”

  “Rand!” Sheena’s voice was a shocked gasp. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m sorry, dove,” he said quietly. “But it’s got to end. I can’t let him do this to you.”

  “You’re a madman,” O’Shea accused hoarsely, his square, powerful body oddly rigid. “Do you know what you’re implying?”

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m accusing you, O’Shea. You’re as guilty of Rory Reardon’s death as if you’d put a pistol to his head and pressed the trigger.”

  “Please, Rand, don’t go on with this. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sheena said huskily. “Uncle Donal loved Rory as if he were his own son.”

  “Perhaps he did,” Rand said. “But it didn’t stop him from sacrificing Rory when it came to a choice between his convictions and the boy’s life.” He smiled bitterly. “Tell me, O’Shea, did it increase your stature with your terrorist friends, when you handed them an eighteen-year-old martyr to use in their propaganda?”

  Sheena expected her uncle to explode with rage, but she was surprised to see that he, too, was coolly controlled, his gray eyes narrowed and calculating. “You’re intimating that I’m a member of the NCI?” he asked colorlessly. “That’s as foolish as your o
ther slander, Challon.”

  “You’ve been a member of the NCI for at least eight years, O’Shea,” Rand said flatly. “Possibly longer. Your coffeehouse in Ballycraigh was used as a meeting place and as a storage warehouse for arms before you sold it four years ago. It was a very valuable asset. I’m quite surprised that they allowed you to sell it. But then, Sheena was potentially an even greater weapon, wasn’t she?”

  “None of this is true, Rand!” Sheena cried desperately. “Even that government man said that Uncle Donal had been thoroughly investigated and that he had no connection with the NCI. Can’t you see how mistaken you are?”

  Challon gave her a pitying glance. “There’s no mistake, Sheena. Donal O’Shea’s cover was almost perfect. It had to be, or he wouldn’t have been of any use to them.”

  “Yet, you claim to possess knowledge, not even known to the authorities,” O’Shea scoffed. “May I ask how you came by such information?”

  “Money,” Rand said simply. “You’d be amazed at how much information unlimited funds can buy. The private detectives I had investigating Sheena and her associates were most thorough.” His gaze traveled to where Sean Reilly stood behind O’Shea. “For instance, there was the interesting tidbit regarding your charming associate. Reilly has been a member of the NCI since he was a kid of fourteen. He was setting off bombs in supermarkets by the time he was sixteen. It was something of a promotion for him to be selected as your assistant, wasn’t it, O’Shea? What was the plan? Was he eventually to take over as Sheena’s controller?”

  Sheena shook her head dazedly. What Rand was saying was completely unbelievable. There was no way that Uncle Donal could be the monster he was describing. Not the man who had shown her both strength and affection since she was a small child. There must be some horrible mistake.

  “No, it can’t be true,” she whispered.

  “Of course it’s not true,” O’Shea said adamantly, turning her face up to look directly into her eyes. His gray eyes were brilliant with unshed tears. “Believe me, Sheena, you and Rory were all the world to me. How could I do such a thing?”