Edge of Survival

by Toni Anderson

  Daniel maneuvered the helicopter to the end of the valley and then watched Cam’s face as they swept up over the hundred-meter falls at the head of the river. The area below them was barren tundra filled with hundreds of thousands of caribou.

  “Oh my God!” Her eyes sparkled and a smile exploded over her face. An answering grin tugged the corners of his mouth.

  “The George River caribou herd.” He’d overheard one of the other pilots saying the herd had arrived on its annual migration north, and he’d undertaken a crazy workload that morning to score a couple of hours off for lunch. “So.” He slowed down, enjoying the spectacular sight, “What do you think?”

  Some of the animals gamboled away from the noise of the chopper, but others just eyed it warily, chewing lichen off the rocks as they continued their long march.

  “It’s incredible.” Her grin was infectious and as natural as the wildlife.

  She reached over and squeezed his arm, the pressure warm and intimate and so welcome he felt the first stirrings of dread.

  “Thanks, Daniel. I could have been a few miles away and never known they were here.”

  The herd stretched out for miles in lazy formation like wildebeest on the African plains. Then he noted her hands were shaking. “You took your shot already?”

  “Just before you called.” Cam nodded, her mouth forming an apologetic but slightly wobbly grimace. “Sorry. I need to eat soon or else you’ll get a repeat performance of my falling-over routine.”

  Daniel swore and changed direction. He’d forgotten how easily Cam’s physiology could be disrupted. He didn’t like it.

  “Why did you take on this project?” he asked.

  “Why did you join one of the most elite military units in the world?” she countered.

  He squinted for a moment before they headed away from the sun. “Because I wanted to prove I was as good, if not better, than anyone else in the army.”

  “Well, right back atcha, baby. Except my peers are crusty academics rather than butch soldiers.”

  She was trying to make him laugh but it didn’t work. He understood her drive but didn’t like the dangerous reality of Cam being in such a remote environment. That was why he was watching out for her, while trying not to get any more involved than he had to. The sex was great. Her friendship was a balm, an unexpected but welcome connection. Nothing more. He forced his fingers to relax their death-grip on the cyclic.

  He didn’t own her and couldn’t control her even if he wanted to—which he didn’t. She’d be gone soon anyway. Her determination came from that inner need to prove herself, something he’d abandoned after he’d killed that cameraman in Iraq. But it was something he understood nonetheless.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer because they were just crossing the bluff and she’d soon see. He radioed his intentions to land through the empty atmosphere and circled the small lake he’d come to think of as his own personal swimming hole.

  “Oh, goody.” Her eyes twinkled and widened. “I get to see you naked.”

  He snorted even though her words sent heat firing through his belly. She wasn’t what he’d expected.

  “Yeah, big treat. But only after you eat.”

  “What’s on the menu?” She wiggled her brows in a sassy comeback, her cheeks pink and flushed.

  “Behave.”

  But she reached out and slid her fingers along his thigh, and he was instantly aroused.

  “You must have a death wish.” He tried for stern but she just laughed and removed her hand so he could concentrate. Helicopters were not toys to be trifled with. One mistake and people could die, did die, almost every day. When he was alone he took chances. When he had passengers, safety was his biggest priority. With Cam…he had to get everything right.

  It took only moments to shut the helicopter down, and even though he wanted to grab her and kiss her, first she needed food.

  He needn’t have worried. Ms. Regimental was already pulling out her tub of whole-wheat pasta and tender chicken breast, tucking in like she was starving, which she probably was. He passed her a drink and she spilled a bit on her thigh before she raised it to her lips.

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “What for?” He asked.

  She shrugged and wiped a spot of mayo from her bottom lip. He wanted to do that for her, but that wasn’t the reason he’d brought her here.

  “For not being able to be more spontaneous.” She hid her expression by looking down at her food, but something in her tone alerted him and he tipped her chin up and moved her hair out of her eyes. There was something going on inside that brain of hers that lodged like a bullet in his heart.

  “Cam,” he admonished. “Don’t.”

  He was shocked by the sudden sheen of tears in her eyes and let her go, grief hitting him like a rock. She blinked the moisture away and carried on eating as if they’d never existed.

  He didn’t eat. He wasn’t hungry anymore. He got out of the chopper and pulled a blanket from the backseat. And two towels. Cam finished and jumped down to meet him but her face dropped as she registered two towels.

  “Oh, Daniel, I can’t—”

  “Because you don’t want to?”

  She bit her lip and gazed longingly at the crystal-clear water as the sun blazed down high above them.

  “Or because you’re worried about your feet?” he asked.

  She tilted her chin. “How do you know about that?”

  “I’ve been doing a little research.” He watched as her lower lip trembled, “And I’m pretty sure I can manage to carry a little thing like you into the water.”

  There was a lot of emotion going on inside that mind of hers, but she latched on to the easiest thing to argue about. “I’m not little—”

  He laughed. “I know exactly how little you are and I think I can manage to carry you in for a swim.”

  “Do I have to be naked?” Her eyes gleamed.

  His heart started pounding, but it wasn’t how he normally reacted to the thought of a naked woman—this was more like being on the verge of a panic attack. This was Cam, and nothing about his reaction to Cam had ever been ordinary.

  “You don’t have to be naked.” He slipped his hands beneath her shirt and tank top, felt the softness of her body against his fingers. “But that would work too.”

  He raised the material over her head and there she stood in a black bra and blue jeans against a backdrop of green grass and buttercups. She was so beautiful she squeezed the breath out of his chest. Holding his gaze, she dropped her fanny pack and undid the button on her jeans. His mouth went dry as she inched the denim down perfect thighs, revealing matching underwear that shot him from aroused to hurting in a heartbeat. Then she slipped her feet back into her wellie boots.

  “Maybe I’ll keep my panties on.” Her eyes turned from teasing to sultry as she watched him standing there open-mouthed. “Having a bit of trouble with those buttons, soldier?” She cocked a brow.

  He jerked out of his T-shirt and lost his jeans in three seconds flat. But she’d already sauntered away.

  “Don’t forget the condom,” she called over her shoulder.

  Condom? Damn. Heat rolled off his skin, nothing to do with the sun. He fumbled for the foil package in his pocket, unable to take his eyes off her round bottom encased in slippery black silk as she walked toward the edge of the lake in those ridiculous rubber boots. He jogged to catch up and stopped her with a touch of his fingers on her shoulder. He scooped her up silently, pulled off her boots and threw them back onto the grass and carried her into the water.

  It was cold, thank God, because he felt as hot as weapons-grade plutonium. All he could think about was her softness cradled in his arms and even though he’d only planned a swim—yeah, right—he now figured his biggest fantasy was about to come true.

  The silt and sand beneath his feet was smooth but he kept hold of her anyway. She nipped his chin and kissed his jaw. Small kisses that bra
nded his flesh with fire. He waded deeper and she gasped, grabbing his shoulders.

  “Wow, it’s freezing!” And she laughed because she was Cam and game for anything.

  “I didn’t notice.” He turned her in his arms and kissed her. His hands were full of woman as she wrapped herself around his body so tight they were melded together from shoulders to hip. But her kisses…they stole his breath with their hunger for him. He could never quite believe she wanted him. He of the dubious principles and death-soaked past. She knew his sins—well, the scope of them. And still she wanted him. It boggled his mind.

  He sank deeper into the kiss and she was hot and smooth and as sweet as honey. Her lips parted as she moaned. Neither of them were able to get close enough despite him crushing her to him and her hands gripping his hair in a death lock. She locked her ankles around his waist and he thought he was about to explode.

  His whole body throbbed with the desperate need to be inside her. No foreplay. No teasing. Just inside. Now. He passed the condom from fingers to teeth and ripped into the package. She took it from him, her eyes dancing as his limbs shook. From lust. Lust that had grabbed hold of him that first night he’d kissed her. Lust that wouldn’t let go.

  He tugged aside her panties and eased inside her, groaning every inch of the way. She was perfect and ready for him and sank down on him in a way that made him whimper. He closed his eyes and faced the sky. Not praying but maybe communing a little with whatever force had led them here at the same time. He tried to stand perfectly still and relinquish control, so she could do whatever she wanted with him, and he just about cried.

  She felt so amazing wrapped around him. Strange and yet familiar. Brilliant. Too vibrant and frightening to explore with anything other than his body. And then he couldn’t stand it anymore and took hold of her hips, driving harder, deeper, faster, searching for something inexplicable and primal. The most basic need in the whole animal world.

  Water splashed, the sun glared, and then he lost it. She was almost there, on the brink, but he lost it like a teenage boy in a wet dream.

  Sweat poured down his face and neck, his breathing like a geriatric smoking on top of Everest. Shit! That had never happened before. Christ.

  “Well I guess that will teach me for being so damn sexy.” Cam smiled and brushed the hair from her forehead. He bumped his brow to hers, cradled her closer and sank deeper.

  “I’m not finished with you yet.”

  She made a funny little “oh” sound that made him shiver with desire. And he ignored the familiar squeeze around his chest that still happened when he touched her. Instead, he concentrated on the next mission and eased her back so she floated on the water. The view was spectacular and he wasn’t talking about the scenery. He touched her breasts concealed by black cotton, rasping the material over the sensitive buds of her nipples, reveling in the sensual sensation.

  The flush on her skin spread from her neck down her chest, her breasts swelling beneath his fingers, beneath his mouth, her lips opening as her breath came in short, aroused little pants. His slid his hands over her skin, absorbed the softness of her flesh with his big rough hands. God, she was beautiful. She tasted like the land and the water—pure and unsullied, innocent and fresh. The sun played on her skin, her wet hair fanning in the water, dilated eyes watching him watch her. Aroused and unbearably, sweetly, erotic.

  He slid his hands up her back and lifted her until they were eye to eye. She held his gaze, those changeable eyes of hers blue now, reflecting the water and the sky. And finally she let go, unraveled, squeezing him tightly, wrapping herself around him in sensual pleasure. Her cries, amplified by the water and ancient stone, reached out and connected to something so fundamental inside him it felt like his soul. He closed his eyes and cried out as he followed her back into the void.

  ***

  It was late. Dusk was falling and he was so exhausted he thought his bones might crumble to dust. He pulled the green tendon taut before wrapping one end around the hilt of his knife. The dagger was pulled back on an upper branch, and when the wolverine ate the carcass, the blade should spring forward and impale the critter. He placed his fingers against the sinew to test the tension, satisfied it was strung as tight as a bow. He shuffled backward down the trunk, scraping his wrist on the rough branches and cursing as he sucked the graze. The deadfall trap hadn’t worked. Poison hadn’t worked. He’d sat in a tree for two nights in a row with his rifle cocked and that hadn’t worked either. He was forced to try something different.

  His knife had always served him well in the past. If this didn’t work he was going to track the little fucker around in circles until one of them collapsed and died.

  His feet hit the dirt carefully and he brushed dust and needles from his clothes, felt the ache of age embrace his body. He was running out of time.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In futurum videre To See Into the Future 4 Squadron RAF

  Cam moaned and stretched in the cramped space. She was pressed against a cool wall on one side, hot naked man on the other. She smiled.

  His elbow drew back and accidentally caught her arm and she winced. He was talking in his sleep. Running too. Cam sat up and pulled her knees under her chin to avoid being trampled by his dream. Her vision was blurry from sleep and she blinked her eyes slowly, breathing a short sigh of relief when her sight cleared. Daniel left the light by the desk on at night now to find her medication in the shortest possible time in case of an emergency. It made her smile even though when her mother did that sort of thing, it drove her nuts.

  There was something sexy about having a big alpha male looking out for you.

  She watched his face, that strong handsome face, and knew her heart beat faster just from looking at him. Which was foolish. She should enjoy the ride and not think about how she was getting in deeper and deeper every time they were together.

  “Go, go, go!” His jaw clenched tight, the tendons in his neck strained against his skin, fists clenched as he concentrated on some unseen foe. His skin was pale, and sweat made his hair seem black.

  “Daniel.” She touched his shoulder and he jerked awake, the look on his face one of devastating loss. “You were having a nightmare.”

  Memories swirled through his eyes. He sucked back a couple of huge breaths and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. The pulse at the base of his neck pounded.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  His breathing was getting worse. “Hell!”

  She flinched from the ferocity of his tone but moved toward him.

  “Don’t touch me!” He thrust out his hand as if to ward her off and strode to the other side of the room. Pacing like a caged animal.

  She hated seeing him so obviously distressed. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” He bit off the word.

  Cam laughed. “Sure.” She found herself pinned by cold, furious eyes and knew she would not want to be his enemy.

  “It is none of your business, Doc. Drop it.”

  “I only want to help,” she said quietly. She shuffled forward and grabbed her shirt and pants, climbing into them as quickly as she could. Hurt closed her throat and made it difficult to speak.

  He stood at the window, looking out at the sea, visibly trying to calm himself and failing, but not wanting her help. She grabbed her fanny pack, toed on her sneakers. “That first night we were together, when you helped me when I was hypoglycemic?” He wouldn’t look at her. “I didn’t like being vulnerable any more than you do, Daniel. But I let you help me, rather than push you away. You wanna know why?”

  Sweat streamed down his temples, his breath harsh in the cold morning air.

  “Because I trusted you.” The words hung in the air as she stood at the door. “Because I trust you.” And she left.

  A tear rolled down her cheek as she closed the door behind her but she didn’t pause or wait for him to follow. He wouldn’t come. His demons were his closely hoarded secrets, but he expecte
d her to lay hers open on a platter ready for inspection. She wiped her cheek. That wasn’t a relationship. She wanted to help him, wanted him to trust her, but she wasn’t about to beg and she wouldn’t hang around like some loser while he treated her like crap.

  Daniel’s heart thumped so forcefully it seemed to take up his whole chest. He barely heard Cam’s words, but he read her lips and saw the expression of hurt and disappointment. Christ. He couldn’t face her with these sensations crowding his heart and his brain and his lungs. All he could see was the black-kohled eyes of the woman who’d put a bullet in his best friend. The woman he’d shot dead a fraction of a second later as her young son looked on. That, and the incident with the cameraman minutes later, was intertwined in his head like coils of barbed wire. He suffocated, overwhelmed, unable to think straight, and Cam seeing him like this intensified every failure tenfold.

  She left and he dropped to the floor, cupped his hands over his nose and mouth, trying to get his body under control.

  How could he tell her that in his dreams he was murder and death? How could he tell her that his nightmares were filled with so much terror, guilt and cowardice that he couldn’t think, much less talk about it?

  His heart started to slow its venomous pace and he took another measured breath.

  Why did he give a shit about telling her a damn thing? Cameran Young was a nice distraction, a stabilizing influence when he was starting to come out of the turmoil his life had become after leaving the Regiment. Nothing more.

  Except…he was falling for her.

  Bloody hell. He closed his eyes. It was unexpected. And as welcome as typhoid. He lay on the floor and groaned.

  She was just another crutch for him to lean on. Another sign of weakness and the inability to get his mind and body disciplined.

  He could not get emotionally involved. His hands shook because even though he wanted to hold on tight to Cam, he wasn’t strong enough to lose anything that mattered. Not again. Not after it had torn him apart and thrown away half the pieces last time.