The man’s gaze flickered, as if taken aback by her language. But that surprise didn’t modulate his voice. “Move back into the room.”
Shay bit her lip, the delayed reaction of surprise beginning to pump up her heart rate. Advice from an article about self-defense popped into her thoughts. Never let an assailant take you to a secluded place. Her cabin was as secluded as it got.
Shay folded her arms across her chest, tucking her hands into the folds of her elbows so he couldn’t see that they were shaking. “This is my property and I haven’t invited you in. You’re trespassing.”
A smile spread beneath the shadow of his hat brim but it was nothing like friendly. “I wouldn’t be worried about my actions when yours are about to land you time in jail.”
Shay slowly lowered her arms as she felt surreptitiously for the cell phone she kept hooked in her waistband for easy access.
His smile vanished. “What are you doing?”
She stilled. “Trying to scratch an itch. You make me nervous.”
“Put your hands where I can see them and back up!” His voice had an edge that could cut stone. “Now!”
Though she was determined to hold her ground, when he produced a rifle and held it crosswise before him as if he might swing the butt of it at her head, Shay found herself propelled backward in spite of herself.
The man came through the door and slammed it shut with a kick of his boot.
Until this moment, she’d thought herself frightened. Now the sick wash of fear roiling up through her stomach gave her a sense of what true terror felt like.
A little hiccup of fear escaped as she bumped up against Prince, who had positioned himself behind her. What was the command for attack? Why didn’t she know it? Didn’t Prince realize what was happening? He hadn’t required any prodding to go after the trucker lurking in the woods the night before. She had to do something.
Her shoulders slumped forward, her arms tightening against her waist, as if her stomach hurt. Her voice was subdued when she spoke. “What do you want?”
All the fight seemed to go out of the woman before James. His gaze did a quick perimeter search of the room before it came back to her. She was standing with her eyes downcast.
He lowered his rifle. “I’m going to ask you a few questions. You better give me all the right answers. Do you understand me?”
The woman merely nodded. He took her by the chin and raised her face to his. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” It was a whisper of a reply. Terrified eyes gazed up at him, eyes as golden brown as the morning autumn forest he’d just stepped out of. He felt like a bully staring into them, but dammit, she deserved no pity. She had started this mess by kidnapping his dog.
He released her. “Is there anyone else here with you?”
She looked sideways, as if assessing her options, then shook her head.
“Good answer. It better be truthful. Are there other dogs on the premises?”
Suddenly, she pulled her hands from their tucked position and began yelling into her cell phone. “Help! Help! He’s got a gun!”
“Fuck!” He dropped his rifle and grabbed her from behind as she tried to get away. Bogart took this as his cue to once again join in the fray, and began jumping and barking in unbridled joy.
“Brouza Hund! Platz!” James’s drill-sergeant tone caused the dog to obey instantly. He moved several feet away from the pair and dropped into a submissive crouch. Too bad the woman in his arms wasn’t so easily mastered.
He had dropped a hand over her mouth to stop the shouting but she continued to kick and twist, rubbing her body against his in ways that made him register that she was young and in good shape, and smelled like the kind of fresh-brewed coffee he’d give his left nut to have a cup of right now.
For his peace of mind, and before she hurt herself, he overwhelmed her protest by scooping her up off the floor with an arm about her middle. “Settle down, dammit, or I’ll cuff your hands and feet. Do you understand?”
She stilled but didn’t respond. But of course, he realized, she couldn’t speak with his hand over her mouth. He lifted it.
She sank her teeth into the meaty edge of his hand. As he released her, she twisted and lifted her knee in a quick jab to his groin.
If he hadn’t been a police officer she might have caught him off guard, but he was accustomed to dealing with suspects. The bite hurt but her knee bounced harmlessly off the thigh he lifted to deflect her jab. He did lose his hat as she swung a slap in his direction before dancing away.
The hellcat palmed her phone and began jabbing numbers into it.
“Shit! Give me that!” He jerked the phone from her hand.
Shay stumbled back out of his reach but lifted her chin in triumph. “Too late! I’ve already called 911 once. You’d better leave. The police will be here any minute.”
“Dammit, lady! I am the police!”