Charon's Crossing

"Well?" Kathryn said. "What's it going to be?"

Matthew's eyes met hers.

"It would seem you have won this time," he said coldly.

Kathryn bit her lip to keep from cheering. As it was, she could hardly stand. Her legs had gone from feeling boneless to feeling gelatinous. If she didn't lean on something or sit down soon, she was going to end up in a heap.

"Thank you," she said politely.

A corner of his mouth tilted up in a little smile. It softened his face, made him look less dangerous and reminded her of just how good-looking he was.

"But it's not done with, Cat. Remember that."

The hand in her pocket motioned towards the door.

"Go on, get out."

"I'm going."

"And don't come back, or—"

"Don't make threats you can't keep, Catherine."

"Don't you be stupid. Mis-... Matthew. I have this gun, remember? I'll use it next time, no questions asked."

His gaze dropped to her pocket again. His breath caught. Unless he'd missed his guess, she'd just made that defiant gesture with the wrong hand.

He jerked his head up, his eyes widening as he shot a look past her.

"Catherine, look out!"

It worked perfectly. She gasped, spun around...

He was on her in a heartbeat, his arms sweeping around her waist and hoisting her off the floor so that her back was pinned to the wall.

"Let me go," she panted, struggling against him, but he held her easily with one arm while he dug in first her left pocket, then her right, with his hand...

And came up empty.

She went still in his embrace as he lowered her to the floor.

"Ah, Catherine, Catherine." He cupped her face with one large hand, his fingers clasping her chin and tilting it up to his. "I know you have the morals of an alley cat and the conscience of a puff adder but really, I thought you were above petty lies."

"Damn you," she said, half-weeping with anger at having her bluff called, "damn you!"

"Saying you had a pistol when you did not... for shame, Cat. Have you no sense of honor?"

"Look, if you've come to steal—"

"Steal? From you?" He laughed. "What could you possibly have that I might still want?" His gaze dropped to her mouth. He thought of how warm she felt in his arms, of the press of her breasts against his chest and the racing beat of her heart. "On second thought," he whispered, his laughter gone, "there just might be something."

"No," she said, but it was useless.

His mouth dropped to hers, hard and hot. Kathryn tried to wrench her face from his but he was unrelenting, his arm tightening around her, his hand sweeping back from her face to twist in her hair.

"Bitch," he growled. "Heartless, scheming bitch..."

With a groan, he kissed her again. And again. His hands swept down her back and cupped her bottom. He lifted her onto her toes, urging her into the quick, hungry hardening of his body.