Free A Little Surprise for the Boss (Mills & Boon Desire) by Elizabeth Lane Page B

tents in the camp—one for each of the clients, one to be shared by Eli and George, and another that had been packed for Buck and Arnie. But since Arnie wasn’t here, she’d be sharing that one with Buck.
    There was nothing to be concerned about, she told herself. They were both exhausted and would probably drop off as soon as they crawled into their sleeping bags. And judging from the glances Abdul was giving her, sharing a tent with Buck would be safer than sleeping alone. The less fuss she made over the situation the better.
    Eli had picked up his guitar and was strumming the opening chords of an old Hank Williams song. He had a Hank Williams voice to go with it, and this canyon, with the river whispering and the fire glowing, was the perfect setting for the old-time music. Now, while the men were listening, would be a good time to visit the latrine, Terri thought. Screened by a canvas tarp on poles, the portable device had been set up at the end of a winding path through the willows.
    She had finished and was making her way back along the trail, guided by the glow of the campfire beyond the willows, when a dark shape blocked her path.
    “Ah, here you are, beautiful one.”
    Terri’s heart sank as she recognized Abdul. She willed herself not to sound nervous. “Yes, I was just on my way back to the fire. The latrine’s all yours. Here, I’ll step aside so you can get by.”
    She tried to move out of his way, but his hand flashed out to clamp her wrist. “I don’t have the patience for games,” he growled. “A thousand dollars for a night in my tent. If that’s not enough you can name your price. I’ve got the cash. Just wait till the others are asleep, then come to me.”
    Reining in her anger, Terri willed herself to stay calm and be firm. “No,” she said. “I’m not that kind of woman. Just let me go, and we’ll forget all about this.”
    “No, you say?” His grip tightened. “More money, then. Two thousand. Three thousand. Shall I keep going? Any woman can be bought for the right offer. All it takes is enough money to turn her into a whore. Five thousand.”
    “Let…me…go!” Terri twisted helplessly against the strong hand that clasped her wrist. “Let me go or I’ll scream!”
    “Let her go, Abdul. Now.” Buck’s low voice, thin and flat and dangerous, came out of the shadows behind the man. “Do it!” he snarled. “Nobody touches my woman!”
    The man dropped his hand, letting her go. “Forgive me, Mr. Morgan. I didn’t know she was your property.” His tone was edged with mockery. “I should have made the offer to you. Five thousand dollars cash for a night with her.”
    Buck pushed between Terri and his client. “For five cents, I’d beat you to a bloody pulp and throw you in the river,” he snapped. “Go back to the others. Behave yourself, and we’ll pretend this never happened. But tell your friends, if you or any of them so much as look at her—”
    He let the threat hang, turning to Terri as the man stalked back toward the fire. “Are you all right?” he asked her.
    Terri struggled to contain herself. Only now did she realize how scared—and how outraged—she’d been. When she tried to speak, the words emerged between hysterical giggles. “Heavens, what were you thinking, Buck? You could’ve made yourself five thousand dollars off me!” She dissolved into helpless spasms that bordered on sobs.
    “Stop it, Terri.” His strong hands gripped her shoulders. As she began to tremble, he pulled her close, holding her hard against his chest. “It’s all right, girl. I’m here and, so help me, I won’t let that bastard near you.”
    His clasp calmed her. For a moment Terri let him hold her. She felt safe and protected in his arms—but she knew better than to lower her guard. She was in far more danger with Buck than with the sheikh, because her heart was involved.
    She forced a careless laugh. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “It’s a good thing you showed up