Prey: A Novel

by Linda Howard

  “I set the bucket so it caught what’s coming off the roof. I did that thinking about getting water for washing up tonight, but then it occurred to me you could be soaking that ankle. There’ll be time enough to catch more fresh water for later.” While she soaked her ankle, he settled down again with the evidently fascinating subject of plate tectonics.

  She propped her chin on her knee, watching the way he furrowed his brow as he read, liking that he sometimes turned the book sideways to look at charts and maps. She wouldn’t have figured him for a reader, but then what had she really known about him? She’d resented him so much, been so angry, that she hadn’t let herself see him as anything other than a thorn in her side.

  Oh, she’d known from the beginning—those damn butterflies were a dead giveaway—that on a sexual basis she was deeply affected by him, which was why she’d given him such a wide berth. But she hadn’t known that he could make her laugh. She hadn’t known that just being with him would give her this sense of comfort, of lightness, as if things that had weighed her down were no longer quite as heavy.

  Did she love him? She didn’t trust the suddenness of her emotional flip-flop—if it was indeed a flip-flop, considering the presence of the butterflies. Still, she couldn’t make a decision like that based on roughly thirty-six hours of close acquaintance, no matter how momentous those thirty-six hours had been, or that she’d spent about half that time sleeping in his arms. Survival had forged lifelong bonds between them, so she understood exactly what he meant about having friends in the army who would be his friends until the day he died. She felt the same about him, now.

  “Why’re you looking at me that way?” he asked absently, proving that no matter how absorbed he seemed to be in something, he was still aware of his surroundings.

  “Thinking.”

  “Reached any decisions yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I could shave,” he offered.

  “Wouldn’t matter.”

  “Good, because I’d have to use my knife. I didn’t bring a razor on this trip.”

  And there it was again, the smile that wasn’t just on her face, but in her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Late that afternoon, the rain slackened to a drizzle, then after a few minutes died completely away. After hearing the sound for so long, the sudden silence was almost as jarring as the storm had been. Dare lifted his head, listening, then said, “I might as well bring the bucket in, because that’s all the water we’ll be collecting.”

  Angie breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t let it get to her, but the rain had been oppressive, and she was glad it was over. The temperature might drop now, as it usually did this time of year after a front moved through, but she had ample clothing to stay warm. Unless a surprise snowstorm set in, they would soon be able to travel.

  They would have to be very cautious, because the rush of water down the mountain would make for some treacherous going, but the flash floods would rapidly disappear. The creeks and rivers would stay swollen for days, but between the two of them, she and Dare probably knew every place where it would be possible to ford them.

  “If we have to, we can go due south until we hit Badger Road,” he said, startling her because their thoughts once again had been so closely aligned. “You know where I’m talking about, don’t you?”

  “I think so. It’s a dirt road, right?”

  “That’s it. Definitely the long way around. I hope we don’t have to go that far out of the way.”

  The big question, though, was if her ankle would hold up for that long of a walk, or any walk at all. She wouldn’t know until tomorrow. The cold water soak had helped; the joint wasn’t as sore, and she could flex her foot a little. Whether or not she could get a sock on, and her boot, was something she wouldn’t know until the time came.

  The state police needed to be notified about Chad Krugman as soon as possible, plus there was the matter of the bear, but—“If I can’t get my boot on tomorrow, or walk enough to get by, I don’t want you trying to walk out of here by yourself.” She said it fast, before she could talk herself out of it. “The ground is too unstable for you to try it alone; if you got hurt, or—”

  “Don’t worry, there’s no way in hell I’d leave you behind. If you can’t walk, then we’ll stay here another fu—day.” He gave her a hooded look, and that slight smile curved his lips. “You’re worried about me.”

  She felt her face getting hot, which was ridiculous when she considered everything that had already happened between them, but physical stuff was one thing and emotions were something else entirely. Well, she’d known when she opened her mouth exactly what his reaction would be, and she’d said it anyway. She couldn’t even deny it. The best she could do at this point was cross her arms and say, “So?”

  He shook his head, still smiling.

  She wasn’t fooling him, and she certainly wasn’t fooling herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of him setting out by himself, even though logic said that he was wilderness-savvy, smart, well-armed, in excellent condition, and all sorts of other things that should have reassured her but didn’t. She simply didn’t want him to take the risk of setting out alone, on foot.

  On the other hand, they both knew she would be perfectly fine waiting here; there was food and water, she could keep warm, she was armed. She knew what it said about her that she wanted to stay with him, but it also said a lot about his self-confidence that he was certain he could keep her safe, even though taking her along was the more risky course for her. That was fine with her, so long as she got what she wanted.

  Taking the last trip outside that night was definitely easier without having to don a slicker first. When Dare carried her outside, she looked up and actually saw stars peeking through the scudding clouds. The wind was picking up, though, signaling an approaching cold front. They might wake up to below-freezing temperatures, but the clearing sky meant there wouldn’t be any snow. Yay!

  He carried her back in and they began getting ready for sleep: heating the water a little and washing off—she on the upper level, Dare down below—brushing teeth, changing out of her jeans into the much more comfortable thermal bottoms.

  As she got comfortable on the mattress and spread out the sleeping bag, she was swamped by a sudden sadness. They would be leaving soon, and she didn’t want to go. These two days had, weirdly, been … somehow enriching, and she was reluctant to leave. The enforced closeness with Dare had turned her world upside down. She wasn’t certain yet if that was good, but she definitely knew it had been enjoyable.

  They had been safe, here in Dare’s cabin. The improving weather meant they would soon be leaving that safety, either tomorrow or the next day for certain, and the real world loomed. Abruptly she felt the danger of what they didn’t know, such as what Chad Krugman had done, or where he was. The bear was still out there, too, but she thought they were far enough from its territory that they were fairly safe. Chad, however, had proven himself to be surprisingly dangerous. Had he tried to get off the mountain that first night, or had he found shelter somewhere and waited out the storm? There was a possibility he’d even gone back to the campsite and finished off the bear—a slim possibility, because she hadn’t heard another shot, and he would have had to retrieve his rifle from his tent first. The shot could have coincided with a blast of thunder and lightning that covered the sound, but that was asking a lot of coincidence.

  She wouldn’t bet her life on coincidence. He could have done the same thing they’d done, wait out the storm, and start out tomorrow now that better weather was here. He was on horseback, unless he’d somehow managed to lose her horse, so he’d make better time than they would. Would he come this far south, or try to follow the same general path she’d used taking the hunting party up into the mountains? If he did that, he’d run into a lot of difficulty. She knew that land, knew the creeks he’d have to cross, creeks that had been ankle-deep on the horses when they’d gone up, but would now be raging torrent
s. If he were smart, he wouldn’t try to ford those creeks, but Chad wasn’t experienced and he might not have any idea how powerful those currents could be.

  There was no way she could predict what he might do. They wouldn’t know, until they reached Lattimore’s, if Chad had made it down ahead of them; all they could do in any case was notify the state police and let them handle it.

  And what then? She went back to her house, and Dare went to his?

  “Are you finished?” he called, pulling her from her moody thoughts.

  “Yes, come on up.”

  He was up the ladder in seconds, pulling the privacy curtain closed behind him, to help keep in the heat as the temperature fell during the night. His tall, broad-shouldered frame made the small space seem even smaller. He unbuttoned his flannel shirt and pulled it off, then shucked his T-shirt off over his head and tossed it aside, too. The lantern light gleamed on the skin of his shoulders, and she found herself having to swallow. The damn man was making her drool.

  “Don’t you get cold without a shirt?”

  Blue eyes gleamed. “With you snuggling that world-class ass of yours up to me? Not likely.”

  She was absurdly pleased that he thought her ass was world class. She’d never thought about it much one way or the other, unlike her lack of boobs, which was right out in front for her, and everyone else, to notice. Todd had never said anything about liking her butt. He’d made the usual statements men knew they were supposed to make about small boobs—anything over a mouthful was a waste, et cetera—but he hadn’t been very convincing, especially when she’d see him checking out women who had bigger busts. Todd hadn’t been the cheating type, she’d never suspected him of that, but still it had hurt that her body hadn’t been visually appealing to him.

  She stared at Dare as the truth dawned. “My God. You’re an ass man.”

  He snorted. “No shit. What gave me away? The three thousand comments I’ve made about your ass, maybe?”

  “Men usually like boobs, that’s all. I’m surprised.”

  “I like boobs. Yours are pretty, but your ass is a work of art.” He sat down on the mattress and began unlacing his boots, set them aside. He turned off the heater and the lantern and in the darkness lay down beside her, curling his heat and strength around her like before. Once again she felt his mouth on the back of her neck, then his arm tightened around her waist and he tucked her in tight against him.

  “Good night,” he murmured, his rough voice low.

  She put her hand on top of his, replied “Good night,” and closed her eyes, but she didn’t think she would be sleeping any time soon, not with her thoughts churning the way they were.

  He didn’t go immediately to sleep, either. He was relaxed, but he wasn’t asleep. She could feel him waiting for her to make a decision she hadn’t, until now, realized was so immediate. He wasn’t forcing the timing in any way, if she wanted to go to sleep he would, too, without a word.

  But tomorrow, if she could get her boot on, they’d be leaving here. Circumstances would be different. The world would intrude again.

  Did she really need to decide, or just trust the decision that had already been made?

  Temptation beckoned, a lorelei that was as much emotional as physical. She was at least halfway in love with him, and she shouldn’t take this final step unless she was willing to commit herself to what loving him could mean. Everything wouldn’t suddenly become all sweetness and rose petals. A relationship with him would inevitably include some rocky portions, because he wasn’t and never would be an easy man, but neither was she a smiling Stepford, so she couldn’t expect him to be what she herself wasn’t. The legal issues could be worked out, whether or not their relationship was temporary or permanent. All she had to do was take that step.

  Was it a matter of trusting him, or of trusting herself? More than anything, she had to trust herself, trust that she had chosen the right man this time. Todd hadn’t done anything heinous; Dare was right about that. If she’d truly loved Todd, she might have kicked him in the shin, but in the end she would have forgiven him for not understanding, for not being as perceptive as he could have been. If he’d truly loved her, he’d have kept his word. What they’d had together had been Love Lite. Whether or not it would have grown into more was something she’d never know.

  Because, now, there was Dare—Dare, who had come searching for her in the middle of a horrendous storm, who had carried her for miles on his back, then continued taking care of her, in ways that hadn’t even occurred to her. Dare had done something that even her friends hadn’t done: He’d taken her side. He trusted her judgment even when she herself didn’t.

  Angie opened her eyes and lay staring into the darkness, which wasn’t as absolute as it had been, with starlight now filtering through the windows. Things were changing, time was moving on; she sensed that she needed to reach out and grasp life now, or lose this opportunity perhaps forever.

  She could hold herself apart, not take a chance, but it seemed to her that not taking the risk, not trusting both Dare and herself, would be a far greater mistake than taking the chance and perhaps striking out again. It might not work out; if it didn’t, she would still have had the experience of loving him. If, in the end, he didn’t love her enough to want more, well, that would be his mistake, not hers.

  Before she lost her nerve, she shifted in the darkness, turning over and putting her arm around his neck, and pressed her mouth to his.

  No words were needed, not when they had touch, and need, and desire. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck, his long fingers sliding under her hair and clasping her skull as he took control of the kiss, angling his head and deepening the pressure. The warmth and taste of him filled her, easing a hunger that needed to be fed.

  In the darkness there didn’t seem to be any hurry. They kissed and touched, exploring, and Angie lost herself in the tactile magic of it. His hands were on her, sliding over every curve, and her hands were on him. The differences of his body from hers both shook and thrilled her to the core: the heavy muscularity of his shoulders, the hardness of his chest and abdomen, the spinal groove down his back and the thick pads of muscle that laced each side. One at a time, they shed their garments. Her shirt went first and then she was lying with her bare breasts nestled against him, the sensation making her move and slide so she could feel more of the electrifying friction of skin against skin. Her nipples ached and throbbed from just that, then he added the abrasion of his rough hands, the hard pull of his mouth.

  He unsnapped, unzipped his fly, and pushed both jeans and underwear down and off, kicked them aside. Angie eagerly reached for him, found his penis already iron hard and heftier than she’d expected, even though she’d already known he’d been lying about having a little dick. Reaching down, she cupped his heavy testicles while with her other hand she began a slow stroke that wrung a groan from deep in his chest.

  He stopped her almost immediately. “Uh uh, that’s not the way we do this.”

  Because his voice was guttural with pleasure, she smiled against his chest. “It isn’t? Are you sure?”

  “Next time, maybe. Not this time.”

  “Why not?” Was that sultry voice actually hers? She found one of his nipples, dipped her head to give it a slow lick. “I think you like it.”

  “Fucking love it, and that’s why not this time. My fuse is too short.” With a lithe movement he flipped her to her back and pinned her hands above her head while he licked and sucked and slowly fanned the heat that was growing inside her.

  She liked sex. She liked the way it felt, liked the anticipation, the closeness, the pleasure. The fact that she’d never had a climax from intercourse itself annoyed her, because she felt as if she were missing out on something that was probably fantastic, going by the way her friends had talked. After she’d broken up with Todd, she hadn’t wanted another relationship, especially not one just for sex, and gradually her need for sex had kind of gone away, and that had bothered her,
too. Had all the romance in her, both emotional and sexual, just withered away?

  The more Dare touched her, the more emphatic the answer to that question became. No.

  Then he tugged the thermal bottoms down and off, and they were lying together naked, kissing as if the slightest distance between them was intolerable. She loved kissing him, loved everything about it, the taste, the way his lips felt, the hot smell of his skin. He kissed his way down to her breasts, where his beard stubble scraped across her sensitive nipples and startled a cry from her, not in pain, but in a sharp, exquisite pleasure that took her by surprise.

  His hand dipped between her legs, his thumb finding her clitoris and lightly stroking, circling, until she felt as if it had engorged beyond bearing, needing more, feeling empty and wanting him to fill her. Her legs were open, her back arched, everything in her straining and desperate for release.

  “I want to see you when you come,” he growled, lifting away from her and stretching out a long arm to turn on the lantern.

  Angie instinctively flinched from the light; she made an aborted movement to reach for the sleeping bag, but then Dare was there, covering her with his body, settling between her legs and reaching down between their bodies to guide the thick head of his penis gently to her opening.

  He didn’t enter her, not right away. Instead he slowly, gently rocked, putting just enough pressure behind the movement so that he dipped into her a little, then out, then back in. She caught her breath, her fingers digging into his shoulders, but even though she was holding on for dear life she couldn’t stop her body from writhing beneath him, searching for more, for the completion promised by his penetration.

  “More?” The single word was hoarse; his face was set in the hard, strained lines of a man who was holding himself under ruthless control.

  She couldn’t answer; even that one word was beyond her. Instead she hooked her left leg around his waist and lifted herself, blindly taking more of him in. The physical shock of the intrusion was uncomfortable, verging on pain, but she didn’t care. The feel of him sliding deep was exquisite and shattering, and she felt tears gathering in her eyes.