by Liz Wolfe
“That lightning’s getting kind of close,” Mac yelled over the steady thrumming of the rain. I think we should head back to the caves we passed.”
“This will blow over soon,” she yelled back at him.
Mac looked up at the sky and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Shelby looked up. The sky was dark as far as she could see. She counted the seconds between the lightning bolts and resulting thunder. Crap. It was close and moving toward them.
“Shelby, come on.” Mac grabbed her hand and tugged.
She knew he was right. They needed to take cover quickly. But a cave was pretty much the last place she wanted to be.
She swallowed her fear and trotted after him. They reached the rock outcropping in less than half an hour. The lightning had moved closer, and the ensuing thunder seemed to almost shake the ground. Mac headed toward a small opening in the rocks but Shelby hung back, searching for a larger cave, or at least a larger opening. She finally spotted one and ran toward it, ducking just inside the opening. Mac crouched inside the smaller cave about thirty feet away from her.
He waved his arm in a motion that she took to mean he wanted her to run over and join him. That wasn’t going to happen. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled something, but between the rain and the incessant thunder, she couldn’t hear him. Finally, he gave up the communication efforts, grabbed his backpack, and dashed through the rain to join her.
“The other cave is better.” Mac rubbed rain out of his eyes.
“This one is bigger.”
“The other one has a smaller opening, so less rain gets inside.” Mac walked inside the cave and looked around. “Hey, someone’s been here. There’s a pile of firewood.”
“Lucky us.” Shelby watched the sky, but there was no sign of the storm moving on.
“Come back here and get out of the rain.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you claustrophobic?”
“No, not at all.”
“You are claustrophobic!” Mac chuckled, earning him a glare.
“I just said I wasn’t.”
“No, you said, ‘No, not at all.’ When you say that, it’s a definite yes.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You mean you aren’t even aware you do that?” Mac was laughing, and if she hadn’t been so terrified, she might have smacked him. But that would have meant going further into the cave.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She opened her backpack and took out a tarp and some twine. In a few minutes she’d attached the tarp to the rocks surrounding the cave opening, providing a little more shelter from the rain and a place they could build a fire.
“Bring some firewood over here.”
“What about a match?” Mac dumped an armful of wood at her feet.
“You mean you can’t start a fire without a match?” Shelby shook her head in mock disdain. “What’s the world coming to? Didn’t you belong to one of those organizations where they take young males out into the wilderness and teach them to survive?”
“Like your Boy Scouts?” Mac laughed. “Sure, we had something like that in Australia.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. When I was eight, my dad took me out in the bush and left me with the aborigines.” Mac dropped more firewood on the pile and grinned at her.
“Maybe after we get the fire started, you can tell me all about it.”
“Maybe,” Mac said cheerfully, as he stacked logs into a perfect pyramid. “First, we need to light this.”
Shelby dug out a box of matches and a small can of sterno Mel had included in their supplies. She tossed the matches to Mac and poured some of the sterno fuel over the logs he’d arranged.
Mac struck a match and tossed it onto the stack. The wood caught with a whoosh, and then settled into a respectable flame. “We make a pretty good team.”
Shelby wasn’t going to comment on that. “We’re still wet. And it’s going to get cold soon.” There were still a few hours until sunset, but the clouds didn’t show any sign of breaking up, and the air had cooled considerably. They were both totally drenched. “Did you bring any extra clothes?”
“A shirt.” Mac shrugged.
She’d brought a shirt and a clean pair of panties. A throwback to her mom telling her to always wear clean underwear. At least the shirt would help.
“Did you happen to stuff a blanket in that pack?” She pulled a wool blanket out of her pack and shook it out.
“Of course.” Mac pulled a blanket out of his pack. “We should probably get out of the wet clothes and hang them up to dry by the fire.”
“At least by the time this blows through, we’ll have dry clothes to put on.” Shelby shimmied out of her shorts, toed off her shoes, and pulled her wet socks off.
“You really aren’t going to come any further into the cave?”
Shelby looked up at Mac and realized she was still standing in the opening. The fire was warm, but she could still feel the cool air blowing in. “I’m staying close to the fire.” She shrugged.
“Right. Even though the rain is still blowing in under your makeshift awning.”
She turned her back to him, hastily removed her wet tee shirt and bra and pulled on a loose cotton shirt. Her cold fingers fumbled with the buttons, as she listened to the rustle of his clothing being removed. When she turned around, his shorts and boxers were lying on a rock near the fire. A cautious glance revealed that he’d wrapped the blanket around his waist. She was relieved and disappointed at the same time.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about having claustrophobia.” Mac moved closer and sat down by the fire.
“I’m not. I don’t.”
“Really?”
“I’ve had to be in close places plenty of times. Crawling through air ducts, under houses, in car trunks.”
“So, is it just caves?”
Shelby sighed and gave up the pretense. “Not really. I didn’t like the other places either. But it was part of the job, so I just got through it.”
“I’m impressed.” Mac took her hand and tugged her down to sit beside him. She was a little further into the cave, but it seemed all right. “Most people can’t just force themselves to endure a phobic situation.”
“I don’t let anything get in my way. In the way of the job, I mean.”
Mac chuckled. “Oh, I think you had it right the first time. I don’t think you let anything get in your way, ever.”
“Does that bother you?”
“It fascinates me. Makes me wonder how you came to be so determined.”
Shelby shrugged and pulled the blanket closer over her legs. “Aren’t our parents to blame for everything?”
“That’s a popular theory,” Mac agreed. “What were your parents like?”
“Like night and day. They were total opposites.” Mac quirked an eyebrow in question. “My mother is a society matron. She’s never worked a day in her life outside of charity functions.”
“And your father was a con artist. Interesting marriage partners. How did they meet?”
“I have no idea. I always figured Dad was running a scam or something.”
“And ended up marrying her?”
“Who knows?” She shrugged. “What about your childhood ?”
“Mine? It was so terribly normal, I was forced to seek excitement in psychiatry.” Mac kept a perfectly straight face, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Only way to experience anything even slightly abnormal.” He shook his head when she chuckled. “I swear it’s true. Mum stayed home and baked cookies, while Dad went to work everyday and coached my soccer team on the weekends.”
“Poor little boy.” Shelby patted his arm. “Forever scarred by a normal, happy childhood.”
“I take it yours wasn’t normal since you were working scams with your father.”
“That was only during vacations. I lived with Mom most of the time. It was all about dance lessons and bein
g a lady and having the right friends and doing the right things. So, when I stayed with my Dad, it was kind of a relief.
“So, you liked it better being with him?”
“Oh, I thought it was a lark. I didn’t have to be the perfect little lady. I got to play a lot of different parts for Dad. And he wasn’t really big on rules like bedtimes and curfews and eating sensible meals.”
“And your mother never knew?”
Shelby chuckled. “Hardly.” She stood and moved under the awning she’d put up. “It isn’t showing any sign of letting up. We might be stuck here all night.”
“It’s already after five. Even if it clears up soon, we wouldn ’t have time to make it to the main road before dark.”
“Might as well do something about food then.” She rummaged through her pack and came up with several pouches of dehydrated food and a large bottle of water. “Did you get a pot or anything?”
“Of course. Mel outfitted us very well.” Mac moved over to his pack and pulled out a small metal pot, a couple of plastic bowls, and some plastic forks and spoons. “I have no idea what this is, but it was next to the pot so I grabbed it.” He held up three metal rods.
“Perfect.” She took the rods from him, opened them up into a tripod arrangement and placed them over the fire. A chain dangled from the top with a hook on the end to hold the pot. After Mac poured water into the pot, he attached it to the chain and then threw more wood onto the fire.
“Beef stew. Beef stroganoff. Beef tips in tomato sauce. What’s your pleasure?”
“I doubt there’s any difference in them.”
“Good point.” She emptied a packet into each of the bowls and sat down to watch the water boil.
“This will make it better.” Mac reached into his pack and waved a bottle in the air.
“Brandy?”
“Mel thought of everything. No cups though.” Mac shrugged and took a swig from the bottle. “Oh, sorry, I should have offered it to you first.”
“No reason to stand on ceremony.” She took the bottle and drank a healthy swallow. It burned all the way down, creating a warm glow in her stomach. She checked the water. It still hadn’t boiled.
“Don’t keep looking at the pot. It’ll never boil.”
Shelby laughed. “There’s nothing else to do.” Except look at his chest, which she was trying to avoid.
“Here.” He passed her the brandy. “This will take your mind off it.”
“It’ll take my mind off everything.” She shrugged and lifted the bottle to her lips again. Was one mindless evening so bad? It was beginning to sound like a pretty good idea. She handed the bottle back, and he took a swig.
“See, it worked.”
“What?” She was distracted by the play of muscle across his tanned chest.
“The water’s boiling.” Mac used his shirt to hold the pot and pour water into the two bowls. He then stirred the contents.
“Looks appetizing.” Shelby picked up a pouch and read the directions. “Says to let it sit for ten minutes. Maybe it’ll look better then.”
“I doubt it. I think, in theory, people eat this stuff because they’re so hungry it doesn’t matter what it looks like. Or tastes like.”
They shared another round of the brandy while they waited. Shelby stirred the stuff in her bowl. “Did I get the beef stew?”
“What’s it taste like?”
She tentatively tasted the gelatinous mixture and shrugged. “Hard to say, but definitely not beef stew.” She spooned some up and offered it to him.
“Definitely the beef stew. See it’s got bits of tomato in it. Mine’s all cream colored. Must be the stroganoff.” He offered her a taste.
“They taste alike.”
“Like soggy cardboard,” he agreed. They both ate a few spoonfuls then set the bowls aside. “I say we stick with the brandy.”
“We’ll feel like crap tomorrow.” She took another swig of brandy. “And we have a long hike.”
“It’ll give us something to bitch about.” He leaned over to take the bottle and gently kissed her lips.
Shelby’s lips parted but no words came out. His tongue snaked out to lick her lower lip, and she felt something inside her quiver.
“You taste good.”
“You like soggy cardboard?”
“I was referring to the brandy. And your lips.” He kissed her again, and she was expecting something harder, stronger. But his lips just grazed hers. Somehow that made her want more, and she leaned into him, her hand flattening against his chest. He nipped playfully at the corners of her mouth and then held the brandy bottle up for her. She took a sip, and some brandy dribbled down onto her chest and ran between her breasts. His head dipped, and he lapped up the brandy, pushing the shirt off her shoulder.
Her hand seemed to move to his neck of its own accord, and her brandy-fogged brain refused to remove it, so she pulled him closer. For some reason she couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. She leaned closer and planted her lips on his with a bit more force than he’d used. He didn’t object and returned the kiss full force.
Part of her mind was telling her that this probably wasn’t such a good idea. But her body promptly told her mind to shut up and enjoy the moment. Mac continued to kiss her, softly, then deeply. His lips trailed down her neck then back to her mouth until she could hardly breathe. He unbuttoned her shirt and slowly drew it off, tossing it over a rock. His eyes burned a trail from her breasts to her bikini panties, down her legs and back up to her eyes.
“God, you’re beautiful. You should walk around naked all the time.” He pushed her back until she was leaning on her elbows.
Her mind was asserting itself again. She knew exactly where this was going, and while her body was clamoring for it, her head was arguing against it. Mac dribbled some brandy into her belly button and licked it up. He then tugged her panties off her hips with his teeth.
Her mind finally shut up.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Shelby was up and dressed before Mac even stirred. Watching him sleep, regret rolled over her and settled into a sour lump in the pit of her stomach. Last night had been a mistake. Her mistake. And now she’d have to talk to him about it. Crap. She started stuffing supplies back in her pack.
“Morning, gorgeous.”
Shelby turned at the sound of his voice, and her knees almost buckled at the sight of him sitting on the blanket without a stitch of clothing on. The sooner she did this, the sooner it’d be over with.
“Morning.” She tossed his shorts and boxers to him and perched on a rock just outside the cave entrance. “We need to talk about last night.”
“It was great, wasn’t it?” Mac laughed and pulled his undershirt over his head. When he looked at her, the laughter left his eyes. “Well, it was great for me anyway.”
“It isn’t that. It was great for me too.” He had to know that. All the moaning and whimpering. She blushed at the memory. “I don’t get involved with anyone when I’m on an op.”
“You don’t?” Mac grinned at her. “Then I’m the first?”
That wasn’t exactly true. “It’s kind of an unwritten rule with agents. When I’m on an op, I have to be all about the job. Anything less can result in disaster.” She shrugged. “I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“And what idea would that be?”
“That it… I mean… ” Damn him for making this so difficult.
“Don’t worry about it, Shelby.” Mac stood and pulled on his boxers and shorts. “If you feel that this wasn’t right, it’s not a problem.”
“It’s not that I think it was wrong—necessarily.” She groped for the right words, but didn’t find them. “It’s just that I don’t do this on an op. It doesn’t happen.”
“It’s a control thing for you, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“Do you always have to be in control of everything?”
“Well, if I’m not in control, that means that someone else is.” He was s
tarting to piss her off.
“And that’s a problem for you?”
“I don’t know how you feel about your job, but mine is important to me. And to do my job correctly, I have to be in control of the situation.”
“Fine. I’m just saying that what happened last night doesn’t have anything to do with the op. It has to do with you and me. And you don’t have to see it as a control issue.”
“I don’t see it as a control issue.”
“Then there’s no problem, is there?” Mac walked over and kissed her. His lips weren’t on hers for more than a moment, but they were soft, inviting. Pulling her toward something that her body wanted but her mind rebelled against. She sucked up some moral strength and pulled back.
“There’s no problem because it won’t happen again.”
“If you say so.” Mac picked up his pack and started walking. “Come on. You want to get to where your cell phone works, right?”
As they walked, Shelby kept her eyes peeled for any sign of a vehicle. As much as a ride out of the desert would be welcome, she was more worried about The Center sending someone to check up on the two men who’d followed them in the SUV. They saw no one, and after a few hours, she decided that The Center had no way to track the SUV that lay at the bottom of the ravine. If they found it or ran into her and Mac, it would just be pure luck.
They stopped to rest for a few minutes, and Shelby pulled her cell phone out. Finally, she was back in a service area. Shelby punched in Ethan’s speed dial number.
“Shelby. Where the hell are you?”
“Mac and I are in the desert, about thirty miles west of Sedona.” The connection was lousy, and she could barely hear Ethan over the static.
“Hold on, I’m having them triangulate your position.”
“Did you get Zoe and Shannon and Sam?
“What?” Ethan’s voice crackled. “I can’t hear you.”
“Did you get them to headquarters?”
“I’ve got your location pinpointed. I’m sending a helo for you.”
“Where’s the extraction point?” Static crackled so loud that Shelby had to pull the phone away from her ear.