Then you wasted your time.
But
Listen, darlin. Lets make this clear. Real clear. He leaned close, locked his gaze on those harem eyes, tried not to inhale her female scent. Whatever you want, the answer is no. No way in hell.
He slapped a coin on the bar, touched the brim of his leather hat, then strode across the silent room. He angled his shoulders and ducked through the open doorway, hoping she had the sense to do the same.
Because damned if hed go back and save her.
He paused, squinted in the blazing sunshine, then headed down the dirt road to where hed tied his horse. It didnt matter what she wanted. He knew better than to get involved with a woman like her, even for business. Hed have every renegade in Peru on his tail.
Determined to forget the woman in the bar, he strode past the crumbling huts, their thatched roofs and mud walls destroyed by warring senderistas and drug lords. His horse nickered, bobbed his head as he approached.
Hey, Rupper. He rubbed the geldings forehead and ears, grinned when the horse bumped him back. Rupe was a fifteen-hand Peruvian Paso, spirited and smart, five centuries of brio breeding evident in every step. And Logan hated to leave him behind on this trip. But he had a job to dosilver to hauland he needed his sure-footed llamas for that.
He flipped a coin to the Quechua kid whod begged to watch the horse. The boys white teeth flashed in a smile. Yuspagarachu. Thank you. He darted off barefoot down the rutted lane.
Logan tightened the horses cinch and checked his packs, made sure the dynamite and his AK-47 were undisturbed. He doubted anyone would have touched them. His reputation was deadly enough to keep most thieves away. But a man didnt stay alive in these mountains by letting his guard down.
His thoughts swerved back to the woman in the bar. He frowned, glanced up the empty road, and an uneasy feeling gnawed at his gut. What was she doing in the cantina for so long? Hed expected her to be out by now, heading safely down that road toward some town.
He shoved the worry aside. She wasnt his problem. He wouldnt let her be. He couldnt fail another woman like he had his wife.
And he couldnt afford to waste more time here. He glanced at the mountains looming above him, scanned the ancient
Inca terraces that ringed the distant peaks. The sunshine was deceptive. The seasonal rains would hit any time now, turning the trails to mud. Hed have to hustle to get that last load of silver over the mountains before the passes closed.
Scowling, he swung himself into the saddle, nudged the geldings flanks, and set off. The horse pranced sideways, tossed his head, oddly nervous in the quiet air, as if menace lurked in the abandoned huts.
And Logan felt just as restless. He scanned the deserted hovels, the faded graffiti on the crumbling rock walls. It was too quiet. Even the pigs and stray dogs were lying low. And that damned sense of danger, danger kept bludgeoning his nerves.
Then suddenly, a gunshot shattered the silence. Birds scattered and took to the sky. He jerked the rifle from his pack, wheeled his horse back toward the cantina and swore.
Hed been right. That woman was going to cause trouble.
Thank goodness shed brought a gun.
Dara Adams stood with her back to the cantina door, her heart careening against her rib cage, the blast from her pistol still thundering in her ears. She steadied the gun in her trembling hand, took another step toward the open door.
Stay back. Aléjense, she warned the three thugs whod tried to stop her. Her shot had missed them, just taken out some bottles behind the bar. But at least it had forced them back.
But not for long.
She lifted her chin to stare them down, but their mean eyes, fueled by pisco and whiskey, glittered back. There were three of them, one of her. And slung over their ponchos were the deadliest weapons shed ever seen.
They crept closer, fanning out this time, and her heart wobbled into her throat. I said get back, she said again, sharper now, determined not to let them see her fear.
God, she didnt need this. Her forehead pounded from the too-thin air. She was spooked about the man shed spotted following her for the past three weeks. And she was exhausted after trekking through endless villages, searching for the elusive Logan Burke.
And now that shed finally found him, she couldnt let him get away.
She moved closer to the door, getting ready to run. But one of the outlaws lunged. She leaped back, her pulse rocketing, and raised her pistol to fire. But he caught her wrist, twisted hard, and a sharp bolt of pain shot up her arm. She gasped and dropped the gun.
He jerked her close, and she shoved back, fighting to loosen his hold. But he was strong. He pulled her tighter against him and groped her breast.
Outraged, her fear for her safety growing, she struggled to knee him, gagging on the stench of unwashed flesh. But he twisted her arm higher, trapping her against him. The men behind them laughed.
And that made her even madder. She despised bullies like this, cowards who preyed on the weak. As the Roma princessroyal representative of the Gypsiesshed witnessed the hatred and discrimination her people endured. And she refused to let this bully win.