by Zoe Chant
“Oh God,” she moaned. The sound of her own voice seemed to transport her back to reality.
It took effort to hold her eyes open. She blinked several times, until her vision was no longer so blurry. Her head ached, and so did her shoulder and neck. The seatbelt cut into her skin. It was all that held her in place now as she hung in her seat, the car tilted forward at a dangerous angle. She blinked again—then froze when through the burst windshield, she saw splintered planks below her. Beneath those remains of the bridge, the river was roaring hungrily for her.
It was real. It was no dream, it was all real, and she was going to die here…
“Eve!”
With effort, she craned her head against the bite of the seatbelt, and then nearly wept. There stood Chris. Chris had somehow made it out of the car, and had come for her. Then Chris’ hands closed around her arm, and her heart clenched fearfully when the car shifted again.
“Get me out of here!” she pleaded, her hands once more fumbling along the seatbelt, searching, searching—and at last, there it was. She nearly wept with relief when her trembling fingers encountered the buckle, and she pressed down with all her might until with a click, she was released. Chris’ arms were there to hold her, and she gasped again when the car seemed to slide forward another inch.
“Hold on to me!” Chris called against the roar of the river below. “Just hold on! Whatever you do, don’t let go! Trust me!”
Tears were running down her face as the car tilted forward even more, but even so she managed to wrap both of her arms around Chris’ shoulders, and then Chris pulled, and the car shifted again. She was half-way out the door now—where had the door gone? The bear had been just a dream, it had to be! Still, something seemed to have torn off the door and tossed it away as though it was just a toy.
It must have happened while the bridge collapsed, she told herself while her heart raced with panic. She was almost there now. Almost—
“Don’t let go!” Chris gasped again.
Eve cried out and gathered what strength remained to her to throw herself forward, upward—and with a horrifying screech, the car finally broke loose from whatever had held it suspended, and toppled down into where the torrent below was roaring with anger.
Chris’ arms were tight around her. The part of the bridge they were now standing on trembled—but it did not give. She buried her face against Chris’ chest, terrified at how closely they had escaped death, and listened to the beating of his heart. The sound was reassuring. As though she had nothing to fear when he was close. As though everything would be all right, as long as he was near to protect her.
“Come. Hold on to me,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek for a moment.
Chris' breathing was labored. When he looked up, she saw that there was a cut at his brow.
“We need to get off this bridge,” he told her. “This pillar seems stable, but—”
She nodded, unable to speak. The wind was tearing at her hair, and her entire body felt bruised, as though she had taken a beating. Adrenaline flooded her and made her heart thud forcefully against her ribcage, but Chris was staring at her from those sweet brown eyes that had turned nearly black now with fear. Fear for her, she realized, and something in her shifted when she thought of just what he had done.
He’d risked his own life to save her. He’d leaned into a car that was about to fall into a river to pull her out of it. Who did that sort of thing? Guys in movies did. Guys in novels. But she had never known anyone who would risk his life for her.
She smiled against Chris’ chest when she thought of her ex, Jeremy, who’d probably manage this level of heroic only to save his precious car, and would have let her drown instead.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of him: sweat and fear and testosterone, but beneath all of that, a warmth that promised comfort.
Fiery need pooled inside her again as she imagined what it would feel like to slip her hands up beneath that shirt to feel the heat of his skin, the ridges of his pronounced muscles. Or even better, to slide her hand downward, into his pants, to close her fingers about the shaft that she thought she could feel hard and heavy against her thigh. She wasn’t imagining that, was she?
Chris shifted, his arms tightening around her, and for a moment she could feel him: definitely hard, and—wow!—okay, so he was definitely big. But then, his entire body was impressive. Her mouth was suddenly dry with want as she imagined what he’d look like with his shirt stripped off, all hard, gleaming muscles and arms strong enough to pull her out of a car suspended over a broken bridge. The heat inside her bloomed, a warm throb of need low in her belly. She’d feel embarrassed, but then she could feel that he was just as aroused—beautifully hard, and it drove her crazy.
When was the last time a man had wanted her that much? No-one had since Jeremy, and Jeremy had been little better than a child, caring more about his stupid pick-up truck than he’d cared about her. She’d always felt his disappointment that she didn’t look like the photoshopped women on his calendars. But Chris—he looked at her as though she was the only thing that mattered. Still, what would happen once he knew?
Don't forget that he's a cop, she told herself, even though her body was more than happy to ignore that fact for now as her eyes lingered on his chest.
Maybe it was just endorphins—chemicals her brain released after a fright, to make her feel good again. She’d read that this sort of thing could happen after you’d escaped danger. But Chris kept her in his arms as they carefully made their way from the last standing pillar of the bridge to the other side of the swollen river that had swept both bridge and car away. He didn’t let go, even when they reached firm ground. If this was a movie, Eve thought, she’d tilt up her head and they’d kiss now, with the sun setting behind them. Instead, the wind was cold and made her shiver, and there was a sound in the woods before them that sounded a little like a large cat on the loose.
“I can’t believe you did that for me,” she said.
When she looked up, his eyes were still dark, fixed on her with such worry and obvious relief that she wanted to press closer to reassure him that they were all right, that they had made it.
“I can’t believe how brave you were!” Chris raised a hand to her cheek again and brushed back a strand of hair. It made Eve shiver, and she had to fight to resist the temptation to lean into the touch. “When that car shifted again—I thought I had lost you. But you believed me. You didn’t let go. If you hadn’t trusted me, I wouldn’t have managed to get you out in time.”
Eve shook her head. “You could have died too! I can’t believe you came back to save me!” She could hear the tears in her voice, but bit them back.
Not now, she told herself. She could break down soon—but first they needed to get away from the river and find some shelter. And she really needed to get a hold of herself. Here she was, all alone in the wilderness with a cop—this was all of her nightmares come true!
Blood was still trickling from the cut at Chris’ temple. She swallowed down the terror, and when she spoke again, she was relieved that her voice sounded firm. “You’re bleeding. The car’s gone, but maybe we can find a place to sit down.”
“And you? Are you hurt?” Chris’ voice was dark and soft, with just the barest hint of a growl behind it. It made her knees feel weak again, and this time it had nothing to do with nearly falling to her death only moments ago.
“I don’t think I’m hurt.” She raised a hand to her neck that still ached, but she couldn’t feel a wound, only abrasions from where the seatbelt must have bitten into the skin.
“It’s bruised,” Chris said as he drew back a little to peer at her neck with a frown. “But it doesn’t bleed. And you can use your arm; that’s good.”
“You can give me a massage when this is all over.” Eve nearly blushed at her own suggestion. She was definitely flirting with him now. She usually wasn’t so forward—but something about him made her
want to take a risk, for the first time in so long. And she had felt that he was interested. Umm. Could still feel that he was interested.
She had to bite back a sudden laugh as he shifted against her, his length hot against her thigh again. Then his hand slid into her hair and warmth pooled in her belly as she looked into his eyes. They were dark, but not from fear—arousal, she thought and pressed herself daringly against him.
“I’d love to give you a massage,” Chris said, his voice low and intimate, the delightful rumble more pronounced. His thumb slid along her cheek in a caress that made her bite her lip to hold back the sigh of need that wanted to break free, and then he drew her into a kiss.
It was happening. It was really happening. She felt dizzy, and then all she could feel was the heat of his mouth against hers, the carefulness of the kiss suddenly turning into hunger. She moaned into his mouth with surprised longing, rubbing herself against where she could feel him, thick and hard. How would that feel like inside her?
A part of her was still afraid. For so long, she'd been on the run from her past. She knew she shouldn't let him close. The risk was too great. What would he do if he found out that she had used a fake name all these years?
His hands were in her hair now. He held her in place as he kissed her with such slow desire that everything inside her turned into molten need. When he drew back at last, he was panting, as out of breath as she was, and they looked at each other for a moment with stunned want.
“We really need to find shelter,” he murmured and gave her another slow smile. “Because I want to give you that massage. And I want to take off that shirt and kiss you all over until you make that sound again.”
She was still breathing heavily, her panties already soaked with how much she wanted him. “One condition.”
“Anything you want, my ma—” He broke off.
She wondered what he had wanted to say before desire took over once more.
“Your shirt comes off too!” she demanded, reckless and a little terrified by this risk she was taking. But at the same time, it was impossible not to want him!
He grinned when he heard her answer, and then they kissed again. Eve moaned, closing her eyes as her hand trailed over his hard chest. She had never felt so instantly attracted to someone before. It wasn’t just a sudden explosion of lust, although she felt as if she would explode if she didn’t get to feel him skin to skin very soon. It was a feeling that went so much deeper. As if she recognized him. As if her soul recognized him.
She wanted to scoff at her romantic notions—those certainly hadn’t helped with Jeremy. But Chris made her feel safe, and wanted. He felt like… like she could depend on him. Yes—that was the right word. Even when a bridge came apart beneath her feet, he stood strong and unafraid. She had never felt anything like this before, but perhaps that was simply because she had never met a man like Chris before. Someone who made her feel as if she was just right for him, too. If only her life in Linden Creek hadn't been built on an old lie...
Chapter Two
Chris checked his phone again, and then shook his head in frustration. “No signal,” he said. “Yours?”
“Same,” Eve answered, still pale and shaken from having escaped death so narrowly.
Chris bit back a curse as he looked around. The car was gone, and with it any hope of communication. Worse, no one knew what road they had taken.
Jim had given Chris a run-down on roads and bridges currently closed, but he hadn’t told Jim what route he’d settled on. To tell the truth, Chris had decided for the picturesque, curvy road through the foothills because it would take a little longer, and he had hoped that he’d get to talk some more with this gorgeous woman who had stunned him with her beauty from the first moment he saw her inside the bakery. They probably wouldn’t be missed for a few hours yet, and once people started to search for them, this road wasn’t where they’d begin.
Chris moved as close to the collapsed bridge as he dared. He couldn't see the car; maybe it was hidden behind the remaining pillar, or else the angry river had carried it away.
“Just a moment,” he told Eve. She was shivering, and Chris took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She gave him a grateful look, although she looked tired, now that the shock was beginning to pass.
He checked his pockets once more. They couldn't stay here and wait for rescue, not when it wasn't even certain when they'd start to send people out to search. All the same, he had to leave a message somehow...
He found a pen, but when he tested it against the wet concrete of what remained of the bridge, it was barely legible. He frowned, then picked up a sharp-edged rock and tentatively scratched at the stone.
Much better. The rock left a white line against the dark concrete.
He scratched their names into the bridge in large letters, then, after some deliberation, added the date and the message “Not hurt. Hiking to shelter.” Beneath, he scratched an arrow pointing away from the bridge towards the road that stretched out before them.
“That has to be enough for now,” Chris said when he moved back to where Eve was waiting. He tilted his head. It was difficult to read from this distance—but it was obvious that there was a message.
Eve was still shivering, and he wrapped his arm around her.
“And now we go look for shelter?” she asked as she leaned against him.
“The road is our best option for now,” he said, nodding where it curved towards a small hill. “And who knows, maybe we'll be lucky and run into someone coming from that direction.”
Chris kept a firm grip on Eve as they made their way up the gentle rise. They were both still out of breath, but despite the danger they had just escaped, Chris couldn’t think of anything but the way Eve had felt in his arms. Her generous breasts had pressed against his chest, and he had wanted to run his hands down her curves—but that would have to wait. At least until they found shelter for the night.
Again Chris cursed himself. Here fate had at last led him to his beautiful mate, just when he’d begun to fear that he was one of those for whom it would never happen, and what did he do? Nearly killed her by driving onto a derelict bridge.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” she said.
He gave a start, his heart clenching with pleased surprise in his chest at the way she had picked up on his thoughts.
“The bridge,” she continued. “You have that worried look—there’s these grooves between your brows when you frown. You’re blaming yourself, aren’t you? You shouldn’t do that. You couldn’t know.”
He tried to smile instead, but it was hard when they were lost and cold in the middle of a forest. Oh, he wasn’t afraid for himself. He could always shift, and he’d be comfortable enough sleeping in some hollow, bedding down on dry leaves. But Eve wouldn’t be. Most importantly, she still didn’t know, and he couldn’t abandon her.
“I can’t help it,” he said. “I nearly lost you.”
She stopped to face him. The look she gave him was earnest, and Chris was once again struck by how brave she was. She had nearly died—and yet, here she was, worrying about his own well-being instead!
“And I nearly lost you,” she pointed out in return. “Because you saved me and risked your own life to do so. Let’s make a deal. I won’t feel guilty about that if you stop feeling guilty for the bridge?”
Her cheeks were no longer pale, he realized, but red from the wind that continually blew strands of her hair into her eyes. He reached out to smooth them back behind her ear again, a thrill running through him at the warmth of her skin.
Our mate, his bear grumbled proudly.
Chris thought with helpless adoration, Our brave, beautiful mate.
He’d nearly given himself away earlier and almost called her that. Such carelessness had never happened before either, but it was becoming more and more difficult to keep from revealing the truth. He couldn’t keep it a secret for much longer; he was already lucky that she had still been unconscious whi
le he had shifted when he couldn’t open the door to get to her. But she had dealt well with the shock of the accident.
Maybe she would be just as brave when he told her the truth. He’d wait for a good moment—maybe once they had made it back home. He’d take her for a walk with a few of her cupcakes, as he had promised. And then they’d talk, and he’d show her, and he would be very careful.
We would never frighten our mate, the bear agreed, and Chris released a deep sigh.
“You’re thinking again,” Eve said accusingly.
“Not about the bridge, I promise!” he replied and hastily looked around.
They’d followed the small road up the hill so far, but he wasn’t sure whether it was really the best idea to just keep walking along the road. Of course, if they were lucky, eventually another car would come along—but Jim had told him that this road didn’t get much use. It wasn’t tourist season yet, and so all the small homes scattered through the foothills stood empty, awaiting the return of summer and the hordes of hikers and families coming to spend a week in a picturesque house at one of the many small lakes.
“I’m trying to figure out where we are,” he added after a moment. “From what I remember from the GPS, there should be a few houses nearby.”
“There are no phone lines up here, even if we find one,” Eve said. “The Herberts have a hut, and I sometimes spend a weekend when it’s not rented out to tourists.”
“I didn’t tell anyone I was taking this road,” Chris admitted.
Eve’s arm came around his waist in reassurance. She still smelled like vanilla, and Chris had to keep himself from burying his face in her hair.
Soon, he told his bear.
“You couldn’t know,” she said.
“I do know how to make a fire, and I’m a pretty good hunter,” he assured her. “But I’d really rather not make you spend a night outside in the forest.”