Uncharted

by Adriana Anders

  “Warn me if you need to pee.” Her voice vibrated from her chest into his.

  An unexpected laugh shook him—a dying donkey sound—and their bodies moved in tandem, hers half covering him, like a blanket.

  “Wait…” He raised one arm just enough to slip it up and over her soft back. “Naked,” he sighed before sinking into dreams of cold, chilly fog and warm, wet female.

  ***

  Leo cracked her eyes open and immediately shut them again, not ready to face the pounding in her skull or the danger surrounding them or, more than anything, the fact that she was lying on a man she barely knew without a stitch of fabric between them.

  A tug of the sleeping bag revealed what appeared to be daylight. Crap. Had they spent the entire night here, out in the open, on the lake’s shore?

  Somewhere close by, a dog whined.

  She swallowed over a thick, swollen throat and the movement pressed parts of her closer to the person she was currently snuggled up to. Naked.

  There was no dignified way to get out of this, but maybe if she put out a foot and an arm and inched to one side, taking some of her weight off his…

  He groaned, shifted beneath her, and lifted his hips, proving that at least one part of him was awake.

  Whoa.

  “You conscious? If so, I need you to tell me, ’cause this is kinda…” Hot wasn’t the right word for the situation, but it was what her brain supplied her with. It took a second before she came up with “Inappropriate.”

  Another long, low sound emerged from him, this one more of a rough hum. Good. At least he was still alive.

  Yeah, well, the hard-on had sort of told her that.

  Now time to get off it before this developed into something completely different. Warmth curled in her belly. She ignored it.

  “Okay, Elias. Can you open your eyes? You awake?” She craned her head from the sleeping bag, strained to lift up and get a good look at his face, then glanced out at their overbright surroundings before letting the bag fall shut again, careful not to jar his side.

  Yep. They’d slept here all night, their naked bodies sandwiched together. It was a terrible spot to have spent the night in, out in the open like this, the sun just coming up in the east, its rays heating the insulated nest she’d created for them.

  At least he looked better, though. The parts of his skin she could see were pink instead of gray. That had to be a good sign.

  “Can’t stay here.” Her heavy head dropped back to his chest, in direct opposition to her urging. “Have to move.” She didn’t want to. She wanted to stay here and sink back into the blissful heat, the musky smell, the languid pleasure of skin against skin.

  One arm slid up and over her, not tight, but warm and comfortable. This shouldn’t feel as good as it did. Not only was this not the time or the place, it really wasn’t the person.

  Her libido apparently didn’t agree. If it had its way, she’d make her slow way down—

  No. She reared back, dislodging that possessive arm and letting in enough cold and sunlight to make him open one of his eyes. The iris lazily focused on her, and the pupil, she was relieved to see, was reactive. It went pinprick small against the glare. “What the hell are you made of, woman?” He grimaced. “Barely human.”

  “I’m not the one running around carrying me everywhere.” She started to lean back and dropped again when the movement put all the focus on her nipples, rasping through chest hair. It made her pulse frantic, her insides heavy with desire.

  He coughed out an approximation of a laugh, and she felt a twang of something beyond embarrassment or discomfort or even the attraction simmering in the infinitesimal space between them.

  It was warm and squiggly and way more uncomfortable than lust. It contained more feelings than she was used to. Like lust squared.

  Without another thought to her nudity, she threw off the cover and rolled from him—right back into the sharp, cold, gravelly nightmare of the lake shore. “Shit!”

  “You okay?”

  “What are these stupid rocks?” she said, much angrier than the pain in her shins warranted.

  He grunted. “I’m not sure.”

  “What kinda tour guide are you?”

  He let out another low laugh. “Got an extra toothbrush in my bag. Does that help?”

  “Five stars.” She didn’t watch him stretch and then jolt when the pain hit his side, didn’t want to see the thick curves of his chest or the curled hair that had set off that ache in her nipples. “But honestly, look at this place,” she blustered, struggling to stand, naked and turned on and really, really unhappy about the situation. “When I asked for rustic,” she said, with a good dose of forced humor. “I figured there’d at least be walls, you know?” He smiled, the white of his teeth stark against his dark beard. It sent a liquid rush to her belly—and lower. “The yeti’s a nice touch, though.” She reached into the pack and pulled out the first item of clothing she found—a long-sleeved thermal T-shirt. “With that pelt, you’re like a…hipster Paul Bunyan or something. Hipster barbarian. Barbarians of Instagram.” If anything, the cotton highlighted the two sharp points of her breasts. She forged ahead, intent on distracting him—or her, mostly—from this unfortunate want. “You look like Jason Momoa and Tom Hardy had a baby and…” His puzzled expression made her stop. “You don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

  He shook his head, bringing her focus down to his mouth. In the dawn light, with sleep still marking his features, it didn’t look hard at all. It looked soft and pliable.

  What am I doing getting sidetracked by the sexy yeti? She drove her attention up to his eyes and forced a good dose of iron into her next words. “Can you move?”

  He lifted the bag and looked down at himself. “Need a minute.”

  It took her a beat to understand what he meant. Then, of course, her eyes shot down before her brain had caught up with it. After that, her eyes raced up to meet his—which was another mistake. The man was freaking gorgeous. She knew that, could see it in the perfection of his body parts, the symmetry of his features. The unruly hair and beard barely hid what was underneath. She recalled the pictures of him from before. The ones showing a man being sought for all those murders. His face had seemed too perfect back then, his smile too golden, eyes too limpid. Too good to be true.

  This truth, though, of a smooth stone gone rough was so much more appealing. His beauty plucked a chord deep inside her—the answering call of a person who’d become less, not more, polished by life. Sanded down not to a smooth center but a pitted, jagged, broken core that very few people ever saw. If any.

  “How old are you?” she asked without realizing she’d even opened her mouth to speak.

  “Thirty-nine.” He raised his head and lowered it, as if in pain.

  “You okay?”

  The sound he made wasn’t even close to a laugh. “Alive, aren’t I?”

  “Any frostbite or anything?”

  He concentrated for a few seconds—probably wriggling fingers and toes. “Think I’m good.” A pause, during which he avoided her gaze. “Thanks to you.”

  “What kind of man doesn’t tell his partner when he gets shot?” She huffed, pulling on a second dry layer from his pack. “You were wounded and you carried me.” Shaking her head, she threw him a dirty look. “Jackass.”

  He was so quiet, she almost didn’t hear him say, “Partner?”

  “What?”

  Ready for a confrontation, she turned to meet his eyes, only to find that there wasn’t an iota of aggression there. “This you breaking my balls, Leo?”

  She snorted. “That’s right.” The fleece she pulled on was too big and it smelled like him. Ignoring the goose bumps, she threw one his way.

  “Good.” He smiled, catching her in his spell before the shirt landed on his head. When he lifted it off, tho
ugh, he didn’t look quite so happy. In fact, if she had to pinpoint exactly how he looked, she’d say guilty as hell.

  Which didn’t bode well for this partnership thing.

  Chapter 19

  Winded, Elias lay back with a frustrated sigh. “Could you uh…could you help me with this?” He lifted the shirt as far as he could manage. “Can’t quite get it up.”

  “I’d beg to differ.” Leo’s hand flew to her mouth, cutting off a laugh.

  Meanwhile, half the blood in Elias’s body flooded his cheeks while the other half returned to the subject of her mirth. Unconsciously, his eyes raked their way up and down her newly clothed body.

  Looking awkward, she cleared her throat. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

  “No. No, it was called for.” He smiled and watched her. Her skin was a radiant umber in the sunlight, her eyes on him so warm he forgot, for a shell-shocked second or two, how much danger they were in. “Absolutely called for,” he repeated roughly, ensnared by the sight of her top teeth biting into her lush lower lip.

  Bo came up and nudged him with the top of her head, snapping him out of Leo’s spell and reminding him that distractions like this were lethal.

  Her eyes narrowed at him. “You’re flirting and you can’t even stand up.”

  “Wasn’t flirting,” he mumbled.

  “Right.” She rolled her eyes at his efforts to get up. “Stop that. You’ll hurt yourself. First…” She grabbed the canteen, then sat behind him and helped him get into a leaning position, right in the V of her legs. “Water.”

  She put the canteen to his lips and dammit, he tried grabbing the stupid thing, but he would’ve lost it if she hadn’t also been holding on. “Body’s not working yet.”

  “Okay.” She leaned, dug around in his damp coat pockets, and pulled out a couple of protein bars. “Eat.”

  He ate the first in two large bites and scarfed down the second bar.

  “All right.” She scooted away, taking her heat with her. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  He grunted and tried to put the shirt on again. Though every cell of his being understood the urgent need to get up and out of the bag, he couldn’t do it, could barely turn onto his side and watch her head into the sparse pine cover.

  He gave up and shut his eyes.

  He’d almost died back there. Twice. Hadn’t even felt the damn gunshot wound, with all the adrenaline pouring through him. But between that and the shock of the water, he’d be dead if she hadn’t gotten him to safety.

  With his eyes closed, he listened for signs of pursuit—not that he’d hear with the noise the ice was currently making.

  They had to move. If he couldn’t, she’d have to go without him.

  With a deep inhale, he pushed up to sitting and worked the shirt over his head.

  He shoved the sleeping bag aside and took a second to examine the long, ugly gash the bullet had put in his hide. He’d need to disinfect that and bandage it before taking off. Another nudge of the covers revealed his penis, only half-hard now that she’d gone.

  “Least you’re doing okay.” He shook his head, disgusted at himself.

  “Who?”

  Quickly, he covered up again. “Shit, you move quietly.”

  She smiled vaguely and eyed the tight thermal stretched across his chest. “You got it on.”

  “Yeah.” He lifted his chin. “Think you could, uh, grab me something for the bottom half?”

  She got him his things and busied herself putting his pack back together while he struggled into pants.

  “Where’s your bag?”

  “My bag?” She spun in a circle. “Oh, crap.”

  “Not much in it. See our boots there. Your coat.” He lifted his chin toward his bag. “Mine. With my pack, we’ll be okay.”

  “Thanks to your overpreparedness.”

  “If the…” He supported himself on one hand and made it to standing. “…gear’s necessary for survival, then it’s not overprepared, is it?” He reached for his coat, found it wet, and spread it out onto the stones. “Just prepared.”

  She snuffled. “Guess you’re right.”

  “I am.” He grimaced at the sun peeking over the mountains. “Getting to be that time.”

  Her eyes flicked up his body before making their way down again—as if seeing him for the very first time. Which, in a way, was the case, now that daylight had chased the shadows away. “To move, you mean?”

  At his nod, she cocked her head. “Where are we headed exactly?”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Like I said, I want to talk to Campbell Turner.”

  That would be a problem. Rather than focus on it, he deflected. “How’s your head?”

  “Fine.”

  He didn’t believe that for a second. “Figured we’d get you some medical care first.”

  “I need to see Turner. I need to get to that virus before the Chronos people—” She stopped, mouth still open. “Hear that?”

  He shook his head and listened. The most obvious sound was the grind and pop and crash of ice breaking up, running water its undercurrent. He frowned, concentrating hard and then… “Shit.”

  Something thumped in the distance.

  “That’s a helo,” said Leo, looking truly frightened for the first time since he’d met her. “They’re here.”

  He’d hoped for more time. His eyes flew to Leo. “Go,” he said.

  The look she gave him was confused. “No.”

  “Go, Leo. I got this.” He bent from his waist but couldn’t quite reach his rifle.

  “Forget it.” She gathered the pack and started stuffing their remaining things into it, haphazardly mixing wet with dry. “I’m not—”

  “Come on, Leo. They’re close.” Another try, and though his side felt like it was tearing open, he managed to grab the weapon, pull back the slide, and focus on the sky. “I’ll hold ’em off. You leave. Now.”

  ***

  “What are you doing?” Leo took another wild look around. Their boots. Shit, his coat.

  “I’m staying. You run.” The Ruger Guide Gun he held was a bear shooter, best for taking down large beasts at fairly close range. It wouldn’t make a dent on their aircraft. They, however, could easily pick him off from the air.

  “Like hell.” She shook her head, heaving the heavy pack onto her back. “Not leaving you.”

  “They only want me.” He lifted his chin to indicate more items strewn around them on the rocks. “Damn breakup covered up the sound of their approach. Can’t…” He grimaced, as if his side hurt. “Go! Now! Take Bo. Get some distance. There’s a chance you’ll make it out alive.”

  “And what? You just…go with them? Let them kill you? Torture you till you give them Turner’s location?” His lips lifted in the strangest little half smile. “What am I missing, Elias?”

  “Get out of here.”

  “Make me.” She moved toward him, snapped up the blanket and bags, and shoved them at him.

  The thump of rotors thundered around them, echoing off the peaks across the lake.

  He opened his mouth and shut it, staring at her like he didn’t get her at all. In the next split second, something vulnerable softened his eyes.

  Taking advantage of the hesitation, she shoved the stuff into his open arms. “You don’t come now, we’re both toast.” Her “Come on!” was drowned out by the helicopter, whose shadow now stretched at the edge of her vision.

  Bo, who clearly didn’t like the sound of the aircraft any more than Leo did, scurried into the woods, hunched close to the ground. She barked once, as if to say, Come on, you silly bastards! Hide from the big scary thing!

  Whatever he said next couldn’t be heard above the sound of the helo, though she assumed it was something like Whatever, lady, because he followed her up the ro
cky lake’s edge, toward the woods. It wasn’t until they’d made shelter that she spotted her pack. It sat right beside the water, about twenty-five yards from where they stood, disgorging items like some kind of beached monster.

  If the team in the helicopter spotted the bag, they were dead.

  Without a second thought, she dropped the big pack and sprinted—barefoot and half-dressed—to the bag, which she picked up, shoving the loose items inside and hauling it up onto her shoulder with a cold, wet slap, while she raced back uphill.

  The rotors boomed now—above, in front, all around. The once-comforting sound suddenly screamed doom. She trained her eyes on the ground, focused everything she had on keeping upright and on the move.

  She barreled under the trees and into Elias, who caught her around the waist, spun her, and pressed her against a trunk, covering her body with his. Throwing her head back, she saw nothing but pine needles and then—shit, that was close—the ship flew directly overhead, close enough to make out the seams in the metal.

  Elias bent low, put his mouth against her ear, and yelled. “Almost gave me a heart attack.”

  The helicopter flew past, over the lake, and away. Still, he didn’t move. And she didn’t want him to.

  As she caught her breath, details emerged—like the hard press of his muscles and the rough scrape of bark, the heat of his deep exhalations. His neck was still bent, she realized, his face still pressed to her cheek. She should move. They should move.

  But, hell, she didn’t want to.

  By the time her pulse was back to something approaching normal, the aircraft was probably close to a mile away, hovering over the center of the lake. Running a rescue operation, she’d guess. Though killing the enemy wasn’t something she took pleasure in, it was hard to feel regret for the people who’d been caught out there last night.

  She turned and rose up on tiptoe, getting her mouth as close to his ear as possible. “Don’t do that again, okay, Elias?”

  “What?”

  “Try to take one for the team. We’re in this together now, got it? Survive together, get out together.” Her nose grazed his jaw and she pretended not to notice how good he smelled. “Go down together.”