by Anne Marsh
“I’ll be fine.”
“Uh-huh.” The tone of her voice said she’d heard that line before from some other man in her life—and recognized the lie for what it was.
“So I’ve got a bad leg.” He eyed her, daring her to suggest he take it easy or back down. Because that wasn’t happening. Number one on his to-do list was getting her to safety.
“Okay.” Her voice was cool. No emotion. “So we go now, or what?”
He flexed his leg again and the pain returned twofold. “You know how to drive a stick?”
“You want me to drive?”
“Yeah.” He hesitated, but the truth was the truth.
She nodded—but she didn’t budge from her seat. “I’ve never driven in this kind of weather.”
He didn’t expect that she had. “I’ll talk you through things,” he said patiently. “Tell you what to do, okay?”
Giving up control wasn’t what he wanted to do, but his knee wouldn’t take the added strain of doing the shifting. He needed her help.
Which didn’t mean he had to like it or even acknowledge it, he concluded. They’d switch seats and he’d give her directions.
He needed to convince her that she could do this, and fast. The rain was picking up again; they didn’t have time to waste. He studied her expression. She didn’t look too sure about taking over. She was rolling that sweet lower lip of hers beneath her teeth and worrying the skin.
“You like taking orders, Dani?” He deliberately made the question a sensual one.
“Move,” she snapped. Yeah. His comment had gotten to her. And now there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes.
Trading places in the confined space was awkward. After a couple of false starts that had them bumping arms and legs, he put his hands around her waist and lifted. His fingers registered the soft curves—she felt so good—and then he held her over him, sliding out of the way to claim the passenger seat.
He shouldn’t find Dani’s reserve so damn sexy. But he did, and her piercing gaze said she’d done some noticing of her own. She made him feel eager, like she was a Christmas present he couldn’t wait to unwrap and find out what was inside. Because she had layers. Lots and lots of layers. There was more to his stable, put-together actuary than met the eye and he wanted to get to know her a lot better. And it sure looked like she was stuck with him now, didn’t it?
* * *
THAT BIG, HARD-MUSCLED body slipped past her and, as inappropriate as the moment was, she enjoyed the way it felt. His nearness made her very aware of his size and strength. Nervous excitement pounded through her veins. She wasn’t going to die. Simply put, Daeg Ross wouldn’t let it happen.
This wasn’t personal. Daeg did the right thing. That was his motto, wasn’t it? So Others May Live. He hadn’t come here to rescue her, per se, he’d come here to rescue whoever, she reminded herself.
Touching him suddenly seemed imperative. In a shifting sea that was a floating mess, he was all that was solid and reassuring, insisting on getting them out and to safety. She wasn’t alone anymore, and until now she hadn’t realized just how much being alone out here in the storm had bothered her.
Walking away from him on the beach had been a challenge. She hadn’t looked back, afraid just the temptation of him would draw her back. Now they were on their own in the middle of a killer storm. Way to go on keeping her distance.
To make it worse, that last kiss of theirs was burned in her memory. His lips had been gentle, yet firm, and, oh, how his mouth had moved over hers... She shook her head. This was the wrong time for these kinds of feelings, but there they were. Daeg Ross was looking more and more like her reward, despite her no-more-men vow.
Daeg was reaching behind his seat, rifling through a duffel bag. He produced a thin, medium-size packet. The bag crinkled as he tore open the plastic. Seconds later, he was fixing a Mylar blanket around her before fastening her seat belt. She welcomed the immediate warmth from the material. She hadn’t realized she’d been shivering. But he had.
“That’s the best I can do for now,” he said gruffly.
“Thank you.” Even with the Mylar, she was chilled. That came with the territory when you were soaked through. The blanket was good, but part of her wanted to reach out and hold him to her.
He gave her an inscrutable look. “Sure. No problem.”
“Right,” she said uncomfortably and started the vehicle.
“Put her in low gear and angle her in.” He pointed to a spot twenty feet in front of them. “Right there.”
She did what he’d told her to, moving out slowly. Rain pounded on the roof and washed down the windshield. The wipers were working overtime to clear the slice of glass she needed to see through, but it was still difficult to see where she was headed.
She didn’t take her eyes off the water in front of them. He didn’t have to tell her that this was different from anything she’d done before. Daeg maintained a watchful gaze ahead. If the water level reached the engine, they would be wading like her sedan.
“Keep it slow and steady,” he instructed. “Not too fast.”
The first hundred yards were straightforward. The submerged ground offered plenty of traction, despite the standing water. Before long, though, she was fighting to control the steering wheel. What had been a pleasant seaside drive the other six days of the week was now a slippery, treacherous trip straight into the ocean.
“Shift to second,” he said calmly when the Jeep shimmied.
She shifted, wondering how many times he’d done this.
“I’m glad you’re here.” That sounded lame, but she had no practice in what to say to someone who was rescuing her from a watery grave. That was fine with her, because she had no intention of repeating this day. Ever.
“Did you think we’d just leave you?” He didn’t take his eyes off the road.
The Jeep crawled through the water, the headlights carving out a path in the growing darkness. Part of her liked sitting here in this car with Daeg and nothing but the sound of the motor and the rain for company.
That was the weird part.
Because she was just one more mission to him, one more time he did what he’d been trained to do. “You’re not on active duty now,” she pointed out. “You’re not 9-1-1 for the island.”
He gave her a look she couldn’t decipher. “You need me, I come.” There was no mistaking the forcefulness in his voice. Or the rough concern when he spoke. “That’s how this works. You’re never out here alone.”
That brought her up short. He’d always do the right thing—what he believed was the right thing—and there was every possibility she’d get run over when he did. So getting involved with him wasn’t her smartest move, even if his kiss did leave her breathless.
“Brace.” He pointed out a darker, faster patch of water and involuntarily she squeezed the steering wheel. “We’ve got a submerged tree at two o’clock and bushes at eleven o’clock.”
“Got it,” she said and wondered if she did. Visibility lessened with each passing minute, until there was nothing but the driving rain and the shadows.
She hadn’t trusted him, she realized, when she’d pushed him away on the beach earlier. It didn’t make sense to do so then. He’d walked—run—away from her before. Now, though, Daeg Ross was dependable...worthy. She didn’t like being out of control, but she didn’t need to spend five years working as an actuary to know precisely how dangerous her current situation was. She’d miscalculated how much time it would take to make the round trip from the cabin and, once there, she shouldn’t have left. Mistakes came with consequences and she already knew that Daeg Ross was extremely costly to her peace of mind.
* * *
HE GAVE HER the 411 as she drove along what had once been the seafront road but was now a washed-out channel.
“Luck
y for us this road’s a couple feet higher and hasn’t been entirely flooded yet.”
She didn’t believe in luck. She opened her mouth to tell him so when unexpectedly the Jeep’s front end shuddered. The engine whined as she fed it more gas.
He released a string of expletives.
“Driveway,” she bit out and, sure enough, they’d reached their exit.
Somehow, with his suggestions and commands, she got the wheels on the gravel incline. The motor was working overtime to pull the Jeep out of water and protested.
“Punch it,” he told her. “Hard left.”
The tires spun on the wet gravel as the Jeep started up the slight hill. A tree struck the back bumper, shifting them sideways.
“Again,” he barked. Looking at Daeg, it was clear he itched to be doing, not talking. He’d never be the kind of man who was comfortable riding in the passenger seat. She’d bet it had just about killed him to admit his knee wasn’t up to the job of driving. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity but what had, in fact, been—she checked the dashboard clock—forty minutes, Sweet Moon rose up before them, a welcome sight.
“Your cabin or mine?” he asked. The Jeep’s headlights illuminated the group of buildings in a slice of rain-filled light.
“Mine.” She gestured toward a cabin set back from the others—the honeymoon suite came with extra privacy.
Somehow she couldn’t imagine Rick there. She should have seen the warning signs sooner, but she’d been too comfortable with their relationship. She’d been used to him. She’d known exactly how the days—and the sex, if she was being honest—would unfold. And there was nothing noisy or wild about either. She frowned.
On the other hand, there was nothing comfortable about Daeg Ross. He was the exact opposite...and to top it off, the man left a string of broken hearts in his wake.
He just didn’t know it.
7
DANI STARED AT her porch, the cabin barely visible through the driving rain. Daeg was right. Tonight was no night to split up and stay alone. If the situation got worse, they needed to be close. While she thought that over, she parked his Jeep, tapping the brakes to work out some of the water.
“Stay put. I’ll bring the gear in and come back for you.”
She shrugged. Like the possibilities of that didn’t have warmth creeping up her cheeks.
She killed the engine and considered her next move.
“Wait here.” He reached behind the seat to collect his gear. “It’ll only take me a moment to open the door, drop the stuff inside and then I’ll be right here.”
Right here. She sucked in a breath to avoid telling him to never leave her. It had to be the exhaustion making her think so irrationally. Sure, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen, standing there, issuing orders and pressing her to let him keep her safe, but she’d been on her own for years now.
“I’ll come back with the tarp. You won’t get as wet.”
With that sweet knockout punch, he held out his hand for her key. Silently, she passed it to him. Daeg Ross had certainly swept back into her life every bit as dramatically as the water. He knew his stuff. She didn’t want to take a backseat in her own life any longer.
So...she’d take control.
One step at a time, making the most of each and every opportunity that came her way. Tonight, for instance, was one chance to turn her fantasies into reality. She eyed Daeg’s ass as he climbed the front steps of her porch.
That’s right, fantasize a little.
Act out lots.
She considered the possibilities while she folded up the blanket he’d lent her. The wind had died down considerably for the moment, and with just the darkness surrounding her—strangely comforting her—it had a way of making a girl want certain things.
Daeg wanted to spend the night with her.
So, okay, that wasn’t precisely what he’d said, nor did he have nefarious designs on her body, but it was a start. Of sorts. He must have settled for setting his stuff just inside the door of her cabin because he turned around almost immediately. Standing there on her porch, Daeg Ross was the antithesis of safe—six-plus feet of hard, sun-bronzed trouble. Still, no man had ever made her feel like this, as if she should kiss first and analyze later.
He left the porch and raised a large sheet of heavy plastic up over his head.
Maybe he was exactly the right soldier to help her out. Maybe she didn’t need to ignore the sensual pull between them. She was still running through her options when Daeg appeared at her door and tapped the window. When she opened the door and got out, he already had the plastic positioned over her.
“Ready?” he asked. “We’re going to make a run for it.”
“Count of three?” she teased and he grinned.
They ran for the door, his arm locked around her shoulders, holding her tight to him.
“Mission complete,” she said lightly when they landed on the porch, and he shot her a look.
“Uh, no,” he bit out. “We’re not home free yet, Dani. But I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You hear me on that one?”
Did she want to let him take charge? Or did she want to do something different? Here was her chance to step outside of her comfortable, everyday life. Spending the night marooned with Daeg was about as far from number crunching in a cubicle as she could get. Ha! She was already halfway there, wasn’t she? She took a deep breath.
Yes.
* * *
INSIDE HER CABIN, Daeg reached for the light switch. To Dani’s visible surprise, the overhead flickered but came on. The power hadn’t gone out. Yet. So he could see all too clearly that Dani’s cabin looked like it had been copied from the pages of a bridal magazine. Not that he read those things, but the fiancée of one of his team members had stuffed her letters with pages she’d clipped out, and they’d passed the sentimental pics back and forth to tease their buddy.
Now his imagination went straight into overdrive. All the scented candles and gauzy white stuff weren’t his thing, but the bed had definite possibilities. He sure liked the idea of holing up there with Dani to wait out this storm. And learning more about why she was camped out in the honeymoon suite with no husband in sight. Unfortunately, his training kicked in, and he remembered a number of important details he needed to take care of, including the fact that this place was unfamiliar territory and he would have to learn it down to the last detail.
He was definitely a man aroused, however, because his attention skidded back to thinking about Dani and getting into that bed. That four-poster had possibilities.
He grinned at her. “Hell of a date, even if I do say so. Do I get a kiss for escorting you to your door?”
8
SHE GAPED AT him and tried to think of something to say that would encourage him to get on with the kissing. Something clever, sexy or even fun. That was something else she wasn’t always good at. Other people had an arsenal of witty comebacks at their fingertips. She had numbers. And Daeg’s hand at the small of her back. A gentle push propelled her to a sofa.
“If it is a date, then it’s the worst one ever.” Stupid, she should be encouraging the date idea.
He laughed. “Think of the stories we could tell our grandkids. About how their Nonna and Pappi rescued each other and then hooked up during the storm of the century.”
Sliding the dead bolt back and forth, he tested the lock on the front door. A good safety precaution, she guessed. When, in fact, biding time locked in a cabin with Daeg Ross was something out of one of her fantasies.
“You don’t tell grandkids that.” She wouldn’t let him see how much his joking comments affected her. How much she liked the thought of him with grandkids. “And, obviously, this isn’t a date.”
“I’d tell mine,” he said.
She hadn’t ever pictured him with grandkids. That would mean kids, and just the thought of Daeg as a father caught her off guard. He didn’t seem like the happy-family sort, but he’d do that like he did everything else. Wholeheartedly. At the moment, though, she was more interested in the act that led to kids.
Daeg moved confidently around her cabin, his body taking up large amounts of space. He prowled like a big cat confined in a small cage. He’d prefer to be outside, doing.
“You’d scar them for life,” she quipped.
“They’d love it,” he countered. “Especially if we had granddaughters.” He shot her a wicked grin. “All that romance. Marooned in the storm.”
He fluttered his eyelashes dramatically at her. So he wasn’t serious about the dating remark. Part of her was relieved.
Unfortunately, part of her was also disappointed. Her libido reigned.
With his hair wet and his T-shirt plastered to his chest and every inch of his broad shoulders, he looked so hot. Being this close to him, there was no missing the muscled definition in his chest and forearms. Getting her hands on him seemed like a really good idea. She dropped her gaze to his powerful thighs—with that six-inch gash staring accusingly at her. Here she was ogling the man and he was injured.
“Your leg—” She stopped and gestured at his wound. She wasn’t a nurse and although she was concerned, she had no idea what to offer. A bandage and some antibiotic ointment didn’t seem like enough. Not knowing what to say to him—especially since he’d been injured helping her—was cringe-worthy.
“Will be fine.” He dismissed her worry. “I’ve had worse.”
“Shouldn’t you get off your feet, at least?” After all, he hadn’t been able to drive the Jeep.
“I don’t want it to stiffen up. Walking a little is good.”
“But no driving.”
“No,” he agreed curtly. “No driving.”
That was a clear no-trespassing sign. Discussing the leg was off-limits.