To Love & Protect Her. Margaret Watson
a quiet university professor shouldn’t be interested in a man like Griff.
The rebellious part of her, the part that wasn’t sure she liked being a university professor, yearned for the wildness of Griff’s life. The part of her that had loved traveling around the world, loved the adventure of life with her father, said Griff was exactly the kind of man she was interested in. But she ignored it. If she listened to that voice, it would be a betrayal of her father and everything he wanted for her.
“We have a long ride ahead of us.” Griff’s voice came out of the darkness again. “And you had a rough night. Why don’t you try to get some rest?”
“It’s hard to sleep in a car,” she said. “I always wake up with a stiff neck.”
“You can rest your head on my shoulder. That way I can check you frequently to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” He cleared his throat. “Go ahead and relax.”
“That would be uncomfortable for you.”
“I’ll survive.” There was a grimness to his voice she didn’t understand. “One of us might as well get some sleep.”
“I am a little tired,” she said, and she heard the weariness in her own voice.
“Then come on, Blue. Close your eyes.”
She curled up on the seat, adjusted her seat belt, and leaned against his shoulder. His muscles were tense and hard beneath her ear, and when she shifted around, she felt him tremble. But the rumble of the truck’s engine soothed her, and the warmth of Griff’s body surrounded her—she felt herself relaxing.
“Why did you call me Blue?” she asked, her voice sleepy.
“It’s an Australian nickname for someone with red hair.”
His voice washed over her, and she snuggled closer. She felt him tense again, and then his hand stroked over her hair. “Go to sleep, Willa.”
“Keep talking to me,” she said, tucking her hand under his arm. “Why do Australians call people with red hair ‘Blue’? That sounds kind of contrary.”
“That’s because Australians are contrary.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Blue is also what we call an argument. I guess people think that redheads are more likely to get into arguments.”
“I think that’s unfair. I’m very even tempered.”
“Is that right?” He stroked her hair again, and she wanted to arch into his touch. “I’ll remember you said that next time you’re giving me grief over my protecting you.”
She imagined that he touched her hair again, very lightly, and she thought his hand lingered on her head. She wanted to beg him not to stop, but she clamped her mouth firmly shut. It was the blow to the head, she told herself. It was making her want things she knew she couldn’t have. It made her yearn for what couldn’t be.
Silence filled the car again. “Don’t stop talking,” she said, and her voice was drowsy with sleep. “I love to listen to you. Your accent is so musical.”
“I don’t have an accent, mate,” he said, exaggerating his drawl. “It’s you Yanks who talk funny.”
She smiled and allowed herself to drift to the place between sleep and wakefulness. “Tell me about your sister. I like her so much.”
“She’s something, our Matilda is.” Willa heard the love mixed with resignation in his voice. “She’s a handful. It took me and all four of my brothers to keep an eye on her.”
“I bet she loved that.”
“She’s a lot like you, Willa. She was sure she could take care of herself, too.”
“I know her well enough to know that she can.” She was too tired to rise to his bait. “Can you tell me about Australia?”
He hesitated, then he began speaking in a low, soothing voice, describing the beauty of his country. As she drifted off to sleep, she realized that he was deliberately lulling her, but she didn’t care. Her head still hurt, and she was exhausted. And although she was driving through the night to an unknown destination with a man she didn’t know all that well, she felt amazingly content.
She was with Griff, and that was all that mattered.
Two
“Wake up, Willa.”
The voice intruded on her dreams, and she closed her eyes more firmly and tried to hang on as the dream faded into the mist. She was dreaming about Griff, and his hand was drawing a long, lazy line down her back. She didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want the dream to end.
“Come on, Willa, it’s time to wake up.”
It was Griff’s voice, and his hand was touching her shoulder. Slowly she opened her eyes. She was lying on his lap, and his brown eyes were looking down at her, concern in their warm depths.
She scrambled to sit up. “Griff?” She pushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at him. “What are you doing here? And where are we?”
“We’re in El Paso—” he began.
“El Paso!” she gasped. “What are we doing in El Paso?”
He hesitated. “Don’t you remember what happened last night?”
Last night. Suddenly all the events of the night before came flooding back. “I had forgotten,” she whispered.
“How’s your head?”
She touched the lump on her left temple. “It hurts,” she said. “But I’m sure I’ll survive.”
He worked his jaw. “I’ll take care of it when we get to the cabin. I thought we’d stop in here first and get some groceries and other things we’ll need.”
She looked out the window of the truck and saw that they were in the parking lot of a store that advertised one-stop shopping. “All right.”
Before she could get out of the car, Griff laid his hand on her arm. Her skin heated and her heart raced, but Griff didn’t seem to notice a thing.
“I’m not going to say anything in the store,” he said. “We don’t want anyone remembering the bloke with the funny accent.”
Willa felt herself pale as she looked at him. “Do you think the kidnappers could have followed us from College Station?”
“No one followed us. I’m sure of that. But we don’t want to take any chances, so I’m keeping my mouth shut.”
He drew his hand away, and Willa felt bereft. She wanted to reach for him, but instead curled her fingers into her palm. She’d better get hold of herself. She was going to be spending a lot of time with Griff.
They went through the store quickly, loading their shopping cart with food and a couple of changes of clothes for each of them. Willa grabbed toiletries, as well as a handful of books to read.
In a half hour they were back in the truck. Griff’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he didn’t look at Willa. “I have to call Ryan and get directions to the cabin,” he said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Are you having second thoughts?” she asked. “I didn’t even think to ask if you could spare the time to stay with me.”
“My time isn’t a problem,” he said, his voice short. “I want to be sure you understand that we’re going to be alone together, possibly for a while. Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?”
She was too aware of Griff, sitting so close to her in the car. Surrounded by his male scent, his leather jacket still wrapped around her shoulders, her senses were overwhelmed with him. The air around them pulsated with tension. Spending time alone with Griff would be dangerous.
“I’m