Haley checked the horizon again and realized the gathering clouds were growing darker, the storm boiling toward them at a rapid pace.
“I have some string in the tent we could use.” Darby glanced anxiously in the general direction of where she’d set up her first camp.
Quentin nodded. “As much as I’d like to prove myself better than some jumped up Englishman, it might not be a bad thing to cheat a little. Can you fetch it?”
Haley could tell from the way Darby gnawed her lip that she didn’t want to go down to the tent on her own.
“How about I go?” Haley offered even though her thighs were burning from going up and down the hillside all day.
Darby nodded with relief.
Quentin looked up at the sky. “Be quick.”
Haley hurried off down the mountain. A wall of gray obscured the horizon, and she suspected she was going to get drenched on the return journey. She went inside the tent and started grabbing what was left of Darby’s belongings, including a notepad. A weird vibration started, and the sides of the tent buffeted hard in the wind. And it took a few seconds for Haley to realize that the rhythmic noise wasn’t the wind, it was a helicopter. Did she make a run for the trees? It sounded close, but she had no idea where the machine was.
She edged to the front of the tent and eased the zipper down enough to hide her from view.
Was this the rescue team or the terrorists tracking them down? She had no idea. She froze, curling herself into a small, rigid ball, the terror of her abduction, the knowledge that if the kidnappers reclaimed their lost prizes…she and Darby would have to endure daily horror. Quentin would be tortured, probably to death.
“Please, please, please.” She begged whatever deity watched over desperate women in these parts. Not that they’d helped Darby much. “I’ll do anything. I’ll be a better person. I’ll stop cursing so much, give up drinking and one-night stands, and go volunteer in a pet shelter.”
The beat of the rotors became louder and louder until the drumming hurt her ears and punched her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut like a kid hiding in a closet playing hide-and-go-seek. Then she made a decision.
* * *
Quentin had just finished chopping the main support branches for their makeshift shelter when he heard the beat of rotors.
“Shit.”
Darby looked up from where she was collecting leaves to spread over the roof of the structure.
“Help me get everything out of sight. Fast.”
He grabbed the cooler and threw in everything they’d used for dinner, slammed the lid closed and dragged it into the depths of the trees. Darby grabbed the camp chair and bedroll. Stumbled after him with huge, desperate eyes.
“Is it them?” Her voice was high and thin.
“I don’t know, but we can’t risk them finding us. Get over by those bushes and cover yourself with this blanket. Don’t. Move. No matter what happens.” He thrust Haley’s gray blanket at the young woman and she took it, fingers shaking so badly she almost dropped it.
That was what real terror looked like.
And he was feeling it too.
Where was Haley? Where was the chopper? Had they spotted her? Had she heard the noise and hidden before they got to her?
What if it was a rescue team?
What if it wasn’t?
Fuck.
He piled leaves and branches and dirt over the coolers hidden in the brush then lay next to Darby, covering them both with the heavy gray wool. He drew the handgun out of his waistband and put a bullet in the chamber, ready to shoot anyone who tried to take them back to that island.
He drew the knife and handed it to Darby. She gripped it tight, eyes round with fear but jaw determined as hell. She’d already killed one of her attackers. She might not get another chance, but at least she wouldn’t feel so completely defenseless.
“Do you think Haley is okay?” Her eyes frantically searched through the thin slit at the bottom of the blanket.
“I hope so,” he said fervently. He wanted to run down the side of the mountain after her, but what if he led the hostiles straight to them? And how could he leave Darby to face this danger alone? Even for Haley?
“You like her.”
He snorted. “Of course, I like her.”
“No,” she laughed, then swallowed nervously. “You really like her. I’ve seen you watching her.”
He gave her a look but didn’t reply. What was not to like? Haley was a smart, beautiful woman, although so was Darby. So were thousands of other women in the world, but he hadn’t looked at any of them twice since he’d met Abbie over a decade ago.
Suddenly the noise of the helicopter grew louder just as the rain began to fall in a deluge that soaked them to the skin in two seconds flat. At least it was warm rain and cooled his skin to a bearable temperature.
“Keep your head down and don’t move,” he ordered Darby as they anchored the blanket around them.
He watched through a narrow gap as a dark green helicopter rose up and into view, clearly searching the wide-open plain in sweeping movements.
Had someone noticed the signal? It seemed too fast for a response but what if… He scanned the aircraft for some sort of insignia, but there was nothing useful except a number he couldn’t make out at this distance. He tried to get a look at the pilot and crew, but the rain was too thick, a wall of gray leaching color and detail.
He wished like hell he could run out there waving his hands like a twenty-first-century Robinson Crusoe spotting a rescue ship, but if he got it wrong it wasn’t just him who’d suffer. It was Haley, and Darby. And he had no desire for his family’s last memory of him to be that of a prisoner kneeling obediently as his head was sawn from his shoulders.
Fuckers.
After what seemed like forever, the bird wheeled around and streaked across the island towards the beach. Thank god they’d pulled the boat way under the trees. He doubted they’d spot it in this rain.
He put a hand on Darby’s shoulder when she started to move. She flinched and then held still. The helicopter spent another thirty seconds working the coastline but not near where they’d set up their SOS signal.
Surely, if they’d come because of the SOS signal they would have headed there first?
Yeah, they would have.
These people had not come in response to their cry for help, which meant the chances of them being tangos just went up.
Rain ran in rivulets down his back, over his face, dripping off the ends of his hair. His beard itched like it housed fire ants.
To think, a few days ago, he’d been worried about presenting the keynote lecture. Now he was building shelters out of palm trees on a tropical island, hiding from armed militants and ready to defend himself and these women to the death.
His mouth went dry, concern for Haley eating at him. Finally, the chopper peeled away from the island and began heading south, back into the rain clouds.
He gave it thirty seconds before he threw the blanket off his head. “I need to go check on Haley. Stay here and stay out of sight.”
What if they’d found her and taken her?
Darby grabbed his sleeve. “What if they dropped someone off on the island? Please don’t leave me.”
His heart felt like it was being wrenched in two. He counted to ten. Centered himself. “I don’t think they landed, and there was no reason not to if they wanted to drop off a search party, but you’re right, we need to be careful. I’ll head down to the tent but scan every rise. I won’t be long, but it could take an hour or more to get there and back. You stay here, hidden. You know how to fire a gun?” he asked.
“I’m from Alaska.”
Right.
He offered her the pistol. “Swap you.”
She took it and handed him the knife.
“Please don’t shoot us when we come back. I’ll make sure I call out, or better yet, I’ll do an owl call and you do one back, okay?” Mimicry was the oldest bonding tool in the book, and t
his was a good shortcut. “But if I miss Haley somehow, don’t forget she won’t know about our signal so ease off on the trigger pulling until you see a face and know what’s going on, ’kay?”
An unhappy smile wobbled Darby’s bottom lip. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he said firmly. “Stay under the blanket. If it gets dark before I get back, do not use any lights. You are completely hidden from view here. We will find you. We will get through this.”
Darby nodded vigorously. “Go, find Haley. I’ll be fine.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I know you will be.”
He headed to the side of the trees into a gully that ran down the mountain. It was running with water now but didn’t make him any more wet. He jogged downhill, mindful of his footing for the sake of his ankles, but desperate to check Haley was safe and the bastards hadn’t picked her up and taken her back to that island camp.
His foot slipped in the fine mud, but he kept going, his heart beating a little too hard from worry.
Close to where he believed the tent was, he scrambled up the side of the stream bank and peered over the edge, checking what he could see of the area.
Rain beat down on him, nothing else moving except for a colorful bird flying through the trees. The tent flap was zipped up tight. Was Haley hiding inside?
He watched for another minute before stealing over the top of the gully and running in a low crouch to the tent.
“Haley,” he said, raising the volume to be heard over the rain. “It’s me.”
He raised the zipper and looked inside, feeling a punch in the gut when he realized she wasn’t there.
He heard footsteps pounding the ground a split second before something hit him from behind.
Chapter Twenty-One
Haley had only meant to hug Quentin in relief, but she slipped and crashed into the man, only to find herself flat on her back with a knife to her throat.
“Hi,” she squeaked.
The knife disappeared. “Shit. Sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault. It was my fault—”
“I should have known it was you, but I was so worried someone in that helicopter had taken you—”
“They hovered all around the tent, but they didn’t get out and check inside. And I ran like a scared rabbit when they moved off. Was it the terrorists? Or the good guys?”
“I have no idea, but I suspect it was the terrorists. I am so glad you’re okay.” A wry grin curved his soft-looking lips, the beard almost full now after just a few days.
“I’m glad you’re okay, too,” she said huskily.
She ran her hand over his jaw and then stilled as the air charged around them. Energy spun like a billion electrons colliding off one another.
“You’re wet.” He glanced up at the rain, but she squeezed her legs together because she was wet. Everywhere. And hot. And starved. This was a terrible idea, but god she wanted him inside her as fast and as deep as he could get.
He saw it in her eyes. She could tell he did.
And he must have felt it in the way her nipples poked through the thin material of his borrowed shirt and gave him a very pointed “hello.”
His lips pressed together, and his nostrils flared as he stared down at her lying in the mud.
Haley had never been shy. She wriggled until the t-shirt came up and pulled her arms out, then dragged it over her head until she was bare and there was no mistaking what she wanted.
His pupils dilated, but he glanced around.
She thought he was going to reject her, but instead he groaned. “We have to be quick.”
She nodded, and he was already undoing his button and zipper. She shoved his hands away and dove in, stroking him. Wanting the press of that searing hot velvet that was rapidly morphing into steel.
He dragged her shorts down her legs and tested her with his fingers. She bucked against him, muscles clenching, already halfway to climax.
“Fuck. I don’t have a condom.” His mouth formed a frustrated line as he unerringly found that spot that drove her crazy, his palm touching her clit and making her bow against his touch.
“I’m clean, and I can’t get pregnant. I get regular checkups and haven’t been with anyone except you in a while.”
“I’m clean too but…”
They held each other’s gaze. It was a risk. Of course, it was a risk. But they’d been so close to dying and that visit from an unknown chopper had brought the danger they faced crashing back down over them. They weren’t safe yet. They weren’t free. This might be their last chance to be together.
She let out a sigh of relief when he wedged himself between her legs. She opened wider, lifting her hips, silently begging for him to take her hard and fast despite the rain, despite the mud.
Then he kissed her, and she took his tongue in her mouth as he guided himself inside. One thrust, and he was lodged deep, filling her so perfectly. She wrapped one leg around him, anchoring him to her pelvis as they began to move. Finding a rhythm that was wild and reckless and glorious. There was no finesse. They were rutting in the mud, grinding against one another in a rush to come. His hands pinching her nipples, his mouth devouring hers. Her hips rose higher and higher off the ground, and he turned them so she was on top looking down at him, riding the thick length of his arousal, using him to get off in an orgasm that detonated waves upon waves of pleasure throughout her body.
Then he rolled them again, and she didn’t have time to catch her breath as he slammed into her, relentlessly pounding until he came with a roar that twisted his beautiful face into a parody of pain.
Her heartbeat boomed in her ears.
She’d never done anything like that before. Never felt anything like that before.
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on her shoulder. She could feel his heart pounding against her breast as if he’d run a marathon. Was it the danger they faced? The adrenaline rush? Or was it them?
He withdrew and tucked himself away, pulled up his zipper, buttoned his pants while she lay there winded.
His expression was pensive. Dark eyes worried. He turned away.
“Are you all right? Did I do the wrong thing?” she asked, suddenly insecure.
He turned back, brows rising, and he snorted. “I think you’ve ruined me for any other woman when it comes to sex.” But he looked uncomfortable, as if regretting what they’d done. “We have to get back before Darby comes looking for us and gets an eyeful she might not be able to deal with right now.”
Oh, god. Of course. She didn’t know how she could have been so selfish, except she’d needed it. Needed the release. Needed to screw Quentin’s brains out one more time.
Just sex, she told herself as she forced her damp boots back through the leg holes of her shorts and pulled her t-shirt over her filthy body.
It wasn’t true, but she knew how to fake detachment. She knew how to fake it until it became truth. “If you want to let off steam again, you know where to find me.” She smiled as if she wasn’t a bedraggled rat on a volcanic island, but rather the sophisticated femme fatale she spent most of her life perfecting.
Rather than replying, he watched her with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Let’s go.”
* * *
Quentin didn’t take Haley’s hand as they trudged up the gully. He knew that, for all Haley’s ballsy, confident front, his post-sex withdrawal had confused her.
It had confused him too.
What had happened down there, when for the first time outside wedlock he’d fucked a woman bare, had rocked him to his core. It had been the best sex of his entire life, and that felt like a betrayal of his dead wife and their short but incredibly happy marriage.
His sex life with Abbie had been loving and fun, and they’d certainly never stopped enjoying what happened in the bedroom. But rolling around in the open air, the rain beating down, mud covering every inch of exposed skin…he’d been incinerated by want and lust. It had ripped out his brain and replaced
it with ravenous, uncontrollable need. He’d felt like an animal pounding into Haley’s perfect body. A madman in the throes of psychosis.
He stopped, and she almost bumped into him.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, turning back to face her.
She raised a brow. “Do you mean with the size of your cock or your unbridled passion?” There was an edge to her tone that hadn’t been there before. Not since that first night at the hotel.
It masked her insecurities, he realized.
Shit.
He had hurt her, though not physically.
He used one of his negotiator Jedi-mind tricks to try to get her to say more. “Unbridled passion?”
If she started talking about his cock, he was going to want her again, and he wasn’t sure why his desire for this woman seemed to take over his brain so easily. And didn’t know why the fact it did bothered him so damn much.
“You know, where you fucked me like a mason drill.”
His mouth went dry. He should have known she wouldn’t be so easily manipulated. Which word to mirror now? Fuck? Drill? All of which he wanted to do again and again on repeat.
She must have seen the hunger in his eyes.
He turned away, but rather than hurrying up the slope, he twisted back just as she took a step forward. He grabbed her so she didn’t fall backwards when their bodies collided. Held her close enough she could feel his erection. Her eyes widened.
They needed to have this conversation somewhere Darby wouldn’t overhear them.
“I don’t know how to deal with a woman like you, Haley,” he told her honestly.
“What do you mean? A woman like me?” Her eyes were wary. Her mouth pretending it wasn’t sad.
Everything about her reminded him of a wounded creature, and he thought of the rapist uncle and how she’d reclaimed her sexuality like a weapon to be wielded. But it hadn’t been like that a few minutes earlier, that had been passion and honesty. He went with truth rather than guarding his own heart, because she’d been hurt too much, and he couldn’t stand the idea that he might also cause her pain.
Colder Than Sin (Cold Justice - Crossfire: FBI Romantic Suspense Book 2) Page 19