Free The Bronzed Hawk by Iris Johansen Page B

to fill a plate with beans from the iron pot hanging above the campfire. He filled a tin cup with coffee, picked up a spoon, and strolled leisurely over to where Kelly was sitting beneath the tree on the outskirts of the clearing.
    He handed her the plate, spoon, and coffee, then silently dropped down beside her on the chute. He leaned back against the tree and watched her as she hungrily started to eat. “Sorry I couldn’t get anything to you before,” he said quietly. “It was a bit dicey for a while, and I didn’t want to rock the boat by calling attention to you.”
    Kelly found that she was feeling much more understanding now that her hunger was being assuaged. The beans weren’t bad either, a little hot perhaps. “For a while I wasn’t certain if youwere going to join their merry little band. You’ve certainly all gotten to be great chums.” She took a swallow of coffee and made a face. It was as thick as syrup, and it was almost cold. It had smelled much better than it tasted.
    “It might not be such a bad life at that,” he said teasingly. “No pressures, plenty of freedom, and nothing to do but extort money from crazy, rich gringos.”
    “And did he extort money from this particular crazy, rich gringo?” she asked, as she finished the beans. She set the plate and spoon down.
    “We came to a mutual agreement,” he said, reaching over to wipe a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth with his fingers. “He’s taking my wallet, including all the cash and credit cards, and tomorrow he’s taking us to the outskirts of Matzalea, a small village about fifteen miles from here.”
    “But that’s wonderful!” she said excitedly. “How did you get him to agree to let us go?”
    He grinned. “We played cards for it,” he said. “You’re not the only one who likes an occasional wager, Goldilocks.”
    “But what did you have to bet?” she asked curiously, as she took the last swallow of that terrible coffee and put the cup on the ground beside the plate.
    O’Brien chuckled, his dark face alight with mischief. “You,” he said simply. “You’ll be flattered to know that he considered you a very valuable commodity, sweetheart.”
    “Me!” Kelly cried indignantly, her mouth agape. “You gambled over me?”
    “Yep.”
    “And what if you’d lost?” she asked, her jade eyes flaming. “Nick O’Brien, that’s the most unprincipled thing I’ve ever heard of!”
    “Relax, Kelly.” He reached out and tugged at a curl. “I knew that I wouldn’t lose. I cheated.”
    Her eyes widened. “That’s even worse! What if they’d caught you? There’s no telling what they’d have done to us.”
    He shook his head. “There was no chance of that. I knew exactly what I was doing. About four years ago I spent a few months in Las Vegas and—”
    “No,” Kelly interrupted, holding up her hand.
    “I don’t even want to hear it.” She sighed resignedly. “I should have known that Pedro Garcia wouldn’t stand a chance with Superman. But if you won the game, why was it a bit dicey?”
    He shrugged. “Pedro was a trifle reluctant to keep to the exact terms of the bet. He wanted you to share his bedroll tonight before he let us go tomorrow.”
    “And how did you convince him to reconsider?” Kelly asked slowly. She was just beginning to realize what a debt of gratitude she owed Nick. Despite his casual air, there were tiny lines of strain about his mouth, and for the first time since she had met him, she noticed that his brilliant vitality was slightly dimmed. While she had been sitting here beneath her tree fuming and mentally castigating him, he had been using all his skill and charisma to effect their release. It had obviously been a very difficult day for him.
    O’Brien closed his eyes wearily and leaned his dark head back against the trunk of the tree. “I merely told him that if he so much as laid a hand on you, I’d forcibly remove an exceptionally prized portion of his anatomy.”
    She