Taking Chances

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Taking Chances Page 2

by Jennifer Lowery


  The bathroom connected to her bedroom, so she made sure to lock the adjoining door and quickly changed. Before leaving, she listened through the door, hearing nothing from the other room.

  She unlocked the door but left it closed, and with Ranger at her side settled on the sofa to listen to the radio, trying to keep her thoughts from straying to the attractive man in her bed.

  Chapter 3

  It took all of Nora’s reserve not to go through Lucas’s duffle. Habit of her career. You could learn a lot about a person by going through their things. Most didn’t realize the secrets they revealed in their belongings. A simple piece of clothing could tell more about a person’s personality than talking to them. People lied, objects didn’t.

  But she hadn’t done it.

  The shower turned on and she did her best to ignore it. Considering his injuries, Lucas was getting around just fine. He had to be in agony, but he didn’t complain and she respected that.

  Carrying a cup of hot coffee into the living room, she stood in front of the windows and looked out at the beauty stretched before her. Heavy ice blanketed the trees and fell in sheets across the rolling hills. Not a house for miles.

  She coveted the solitude the most.

  The door to the bathroom opened and she jumped, startled out of her thoughts, spilling coffee over her hand. “Damn,” she muttered, setting the cup on the mantle.

  “Burn yourself?” Lucas limped into the room. His hair was damp and tousled from his shower, making him look roguish. But she wasn’t going to think about that.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you. Let me get a rag.”

  “No,” she snapped, then bit her tongue. It wasn’t his fault she’d spilled the coffee. It was her past, taking her places she didn’t want to go. “No,” she repeated, calmer. “I’ll get it. Do you want a cup?”

  “Black, thanks. Sure you didn’t burn yourself?”

  “I’m fine.” She walked past him and into the kitchen, keeping her eyes averted from his broad chest as she went.

  When she returned with his coffee, she found him sitting on the sofa with Ranger at his feet. She handed him the cup and went to get hers, pushing the remnants of her thoughts away. Lately, it seemed she couldn’t escape them. But why now? Here? She’d put all that behind her.

  “As soon as the storm clears, I’ll make a few calls and have my plane removed,” Lucas said, those jungle cat eyes on her.

  He could look as hard and deep as he wanted. He’d get nothing out of her.

  “It’ll be at least a day before it passes, maybe two according to the radio. And then another couple days before the roads are cleared. I told you I don’t have a phone.”

  “I do, but I won’t get a signal until after the storm. Is there a problem with me being here another day or two?”

  Nora sipped her coffee, her back to him. “I don’t see that you have another choice.”

  Silence. “I’m no threat to you, Nora.”

  She spun around. “I’m well aware of that. Why would you say something like that?”

  He met her eyes directly. “You seem a bit spooked by my presence.”

  That made her laugh. He had no idea how ridiculous that was. There were worse things in the world than him, and they were plenty spooky. She could probably spook him if she told him what she’d been and the things she’d done in her past.

  Lucas frowned. “Why is that funny?”

  Nora sobered and turned back to the windows, her breath fogging the glass. “We may as well lay some ground rules if we’re going to be stuck here for a few days.”

  “Okay.”

  “You can keep the bed, I prefer the sofa. I don’t cook. I’m not a maid, so pick up after yourself. You can eat whatever you can find in the kitchen, but I’ll warn you, I don’t keep much. I prefer my privacy, so you’ll have to occupy yourself. Any questions?”

  “Only one.”

  She turned to face him.

  “What are you hiding from?”

  ****

  “What are you talking about? I’m not hiding.”

  Lucas watched his hostess closely, sensing emotions churning just below the surface. She concealed them well, but he knew one thing for sure: she was holed up in this secluded cabin to hide from something. Or someone. He’d seen the way she jumped when he came into the room. She’d been deep in her thoughts and they hadn’t been pleasant. The haunted look in her eyes remained.

  She lied so well, he almost believed her.

  “A beautiful woman like yourself alone in the middle of nowhere. What is it? A jealous husband? Boyfriend?”

  Her expression remained stoic. “Does that work on your women? The concerned, lean-on-my-broad-shoulders act.”

  Lucas grinned. “You think I have broad shoulders?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Answer the question.”

  “You first.”

  They’d reached a stalemate and she wasn’t budging. He recognized the stubborn tilt to her chin.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll go first. Yes, that line usually works on women, but it wasn’t a line this time. You are a beautiful woman.”

  Something deep and forbidden filled her eyes, and his body responded with a vengeance. He shifted to ease the discomfort. Her eyes tracked the subtle movement and he knew not much escaped this woman. The fact that she watched him so openly threw him for a moment.

  “Well, lines don’t work on me, Stone, so keep them to yourself.” She turned away to stare out the window, giving a fine view of her slender body. Her hair fell past her shoulders in silky black waves.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Yes, I did. I’m not hiding from anything or anyone. I like it here. Just because I’m a woman living alone doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself. This is the twenty-first century. Women can do anything a man can do, so stop analyzing me.”

  He wasn’t analyzing her, he was trying to figure her out. She wasn’t giving him much to go on.

  “You keep telling yourself that. Maybe someday you’ll believe it.”

  Her shoulders stiffened, her chin tilted. Subtle, though.

  “You know nothing about me,” she said coolly. “Let’s leave it at that.”

  He knew when not to push, so he let the subject drop. He wouldn’t force her to reveal her secrets. Hell, he had a few of his own that he didn’t care to share.

  “How about that storm?” He changed the subject with not-so-subtle dryness. “Looks like we’re in it for the long haul.”

  ****

  “So, where’d you learn to play Pinochle?” Lucas shuffled a deck of cards. After a day of uncomfortable silence, he’d finally broken the tension by asking Nora for a game. He knew Doc Johnson liked his card games and had to have a deck lying around somewhere. They’d found one in the kitchen drawer.

  Nora shrugged and tossed a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

  Like pulling teeth to get this woman to talk about herself. What secrets did she hide? Hell, he shouldn’t want to know.

  “What brings you to Dayton?”

  “Just deal the cards.”

  He tapped the deck on the table. “I was on my way home when the storm hit, thanks for asking.”

  She raised an eyebrow as he dealt them each twelve cards. “Where’s home?”

  “A two-thousand acre ranch a few miles from here. I took it over from my dad a few years ago after I retired from the Navy.”

  “You were in the military?”

  Lucas set the deck in the center of the table with the top card face up. “Pilot.”

  “Pilot turned rancher. Interesting career change.”

  “Nah. I grew up on that ranch. The Navy let me spread my wings for a few years, but I never doubted I’d come home.”

  She met his eyes. Something haunted and sad flashed in hers, hitting him hard in the chest.

  “Where do you call home, Nora?”

  A mask dropped over her face, hiding all emotion. “Your play.”

  Com
plete shutdown. He recognized someone trained to detach. This woman nailed the skill. So, who or what had trained her? Government, or life? Damn if he didn’t want to know. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to break through her walls and find out what hid beneath.

  He played his card. “I flew down to visit my brother and his wife over in Colson Hills.”

  “Isn’t Colson Hills like a twenty minute drive?”

  Lucas grinned. “Yeah, but I prefer to fly.”

  “What do you do, circle the city a few times?”

  He chuckled. “The lady has a sense of humor. Actually, I only circle once.”

  She smiled and it hit him straight in the heart. When she let her guard down, she was stunning. He wanted her guard down with him. All the time.

  Dangerous thoughts, since this woman obviously ran from someone or something. A mistake he refused to make again.

  “You’re lucky to have siblings,” she said, rearranging her cards in her hand.

  “Tell that to my parents. Raising three boys, all a year apart, who competed for everything and raised hell every second of every day… I bet they’d beg to differ.”

  “I’m sure they don’t see it that way.”

  His parents were the most patient, kindest, forgiving people on the planet. They had to be, raising him and his brothers.

  “You were an only child?” he asked.

  “Foster child.”

  Wow. An answer. She looked equally surprised.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “Parents died in a car accident. No relatives to take me in. Can’t change the past.”

  He wished he could. Her tone sent a protective urge sweeping through him. Something told him she would change it too, if possible. As much as he and his brothers had fought growing up, he’d do anything for them. Hell, when Josh retired from the Army and went off the rails, Lucas had dropped everything to drag his ass back from the edge. His brothers would do the same for him.

  “You gonna play?”

  Just like that, she closed up. But he knew more than enough about her now. She may be running or hiding, but she was alone. And damn if he didn’t want to take away her loneliness.

  Chapter 4

  Freedom sat a hundred yards away.

  Nora gritted her teeth and forced her leaden legs another step. The heat of the jungle pressed down on her. Every breath hurt, her lungs burned. Sweat trickled down her face, brushed her lashes, falling onto her blood-soaked shirt.

  Just ahead, a boat that barely looked like it could stay afloat bobbed lightly in the muddy waters of the Mekong River. It would be empty because the Thai fisherman who’d left it there was long gone.

  Another step. She could do this. Gripping the man slumped over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry, she pushed her pain down deep. Her bare feet shuffled over rough ground and through tall grass that grabbed onto her legs like a million fingers, forced her back, tried to prevent her progress by shredding the soles of her feet, bloody footprints left in her wake.

  Keith pressed down on her, made each step slow and unbearable. Eyes trained on the boat, she focused on each step, not the agony. She had been trained to file away the pain, save it for later, when they were safe.

  A bullet zinged over her head and she ducked instinctively. The added weight forced her to her knees. The man she carried made no sound as she hit the ground hard, with a sharp cry as pain shot up her legs. Her chest rose and fell heavily with each gasping breath she took. Dots danced in front of her eyes as she struggled to stay conscious. Heat and her exhaustion wore her down.

  Gritting her teeth, adjusting her grip, she forced herself to her feet, body screaming from exertion, threatening to quit on her. Digging deep, she found the strength to lift both of them and take another agonizing step. She couldn’t think about Keith lying unconscious over her shoulders. How his weight bore down on her. How his blood slid down her body and mingled with her own.

  The jungle behind her exploded with sound. Bullets rained over her head, hitting the ground near her feet, driving her forward. She cried out with each step closer to the river. If they’d wanted her dead, she would be dead already. No, they wanted her alive and that was much, much worse.

  Keith’s weight grew heavier. She pushed desperately forward. She had to hurry. She could do this. They’d made it out of Cambodia, they’d make it home.

  Men shouted behind her. Their voices echoed through the dense jungle, their bullets warned her to stop. Nora heard the warning, her knees buckling, but not falling completely. The pain was excruciating. She wouldn’t stop now. Keith wouldn’t stop, and neither would she.

  With strength she didn’t know she had, she surged forward, almost lost her balance, and stumbled through the sharp, knee-high grass and underbrush toward the boat. It bobbed carelessly on the water, beckoning her, promising escape. All she had to do was get to it.

  Using every resource she had, she placed one foot in front of the other, the acrid heat of the jungle pressing her down. Her lungs begged for a full breath of clean air; her body screamed in protest of the torture it experienced. Bullets drove her forward, adrenaline made her strong.

  Grunting, she pushed her pace. The men giving chase were close. She could feel them closing in on her, moving in fast. They were hot on her trail, as desperate to stop her as she was to keep going.

  In her ear Keith whispered, “Put me down, Nor. Save yourself.”

  “No.” She cried out in frustration as her legs buckled again, the muscles simply too exhausted to go on. This was the first time he had spoken since they’d escaped. She’d refused to believe he was dead. Hearing his voice gave her strength to push harder, faster, forcing her legs to function against their will.

  “I’m…hit…can’t save…both of…us.”

  “Watch me,” Nora said through clenched teeth as her feet sank into soft ground. They were close to the river now. Only a few more feet to go. Shaking her head against the ringing in her ears, she trudged on.

  “Dammit, Nor…always stubborn…never know when to quit…”

  “And don’t forget it, Williams. Now, shut up and let me concentrate.”

  Breathing hard, Nora adjusted her grip and broke into a half run, half shuffle. Keith’s weight made it impossible to lift her feet, but she managed to stumble along like a prisoner in chains, the strain sapping the last of her strength. Blood pounded in her head, her vision tunneled, but she didn’t lose sight of the small boat that was their freedom.

  The jungle exploded behind her. Men shot at her feet, shouted at her in Thai, but she had one mission: to get to that boat.

  “Not going…to…make it. Let me go, kitten.”

  Tears filled her eyes at the intimate nickname he only used when they were alone. She shook her head, unwilling to let him go.

  “Shut up, Williams,” she whispered, her feet sinking into wet ground. “We’re getting on that boat.”

  The ground suddenly gave way beneath her feet and she slid down the muddy slope, landing hard on her backside. Keith hit the muddy shore with a thud as she fell back, but she didn’t lose him. A bullet singed her arm, lightning hot, propelled her into motion. With a grunt of pure adrenaline and determination she rose to her feet, dirty water swirling past her knees, and reached for the boat.

  Gritting her teeth, she crouched and dumped Keith over the side of the boat without finesse. It bobbed as he fell heavily into the bowed bottom. She managed to keep hold of it and drag her tired body over the side to fall in beside him, breathing hard. But the reprieve was short lived as a bullet zinged inches from her head and popped into the water.

  She lunged for the tiny motor on the back of the fishing boat and pulled the cord. It sputtered and died. Cursing, she tried again, didn’t risk a look at the jungle to see how close the rebels were. She didn’t have to look, she knew.

  Another yank on the cord. Nothing.

  Three more tries.

  Nora cried out in frustration and fear.
<
br />   The boat rocked.

  She woke up screaming.

  ****

  Startled awake by Nora’s screams, Lucas reached in the bedside drawer for his gun. Not his bedroom. Unarmed, he rolled out of bed, winced, and followed the sound into the living room.

  By the flickering firelight, he could see her flailing around on the sofa. Seeing no one else in the room, he moved to her side and knelt down.

  “Nora.” He grabbed her wrists and forced her arms down. “Wake up.”

  “Keith?” Her eyes opened and met his, wide, haunted, hopeful.

  “No, it’s Lucas.”

  She shook her head as if to clear it, then looked around the room. “Oh, God.” She sank against the cushions.

  Lucas reached out and brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb. As much as he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice, he asked, “Who’s Keith?”

  Visibly, she withdrew. “No one.”

  She hid her thoughts well. But, a woman alone renting Doc Johnson’s old cabin in a small, remote town like Dayton could only point to one thing. And since he knew she wasn’t a lost tourist, that meant he’d been right about her hiding from something or someone. That someone appeared to be named Keith. Abusive husband? Jealous lover?

  Warning fire spread through his gut. Only a fool would get involved in a mess like that again. Yet, when he looked in her eyes, saw tears clinging to her long dark lashes, and vulnerability lurking just below the violet depths, the warning went unheeded.

  She shifted, bringing them closer. The blanket slipped down to her waist, revealing a blue tee shirt that shouldn’t have been sexy, but fit her curves like a second skin and molded her perfect breasts. Their breath mingled. The air charged around them. Their gazes met and locked.

  Then Lucas sealed his fate and dropped his gaze to her parted lips.

  “I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she whispered.

  Lucas cupped the nape of her neck and crushed his lips to hers. She tasted like sin. A warning went off in the back of his mind. He deepened the kiss with a groan when she bit down on his lower lip.

 

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