Seducing Allie: Seattle Steam, Book 3

by Shelli Stevens

  Her heart twisted and she already knew the answer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Clint jerked upright and blinked groggily. He glanced over at Allie, still sleeping with her back to him. He checked his watch and his brows rose in dismay.

  Jeez, had he really slept that late? He’d been tossing and turning half the night before falling into a light sleep just as the sun had started to rise.

  Climbing out of his sleeping bag, he left the tent and strode to the lake’s edge to wash up then went to build a fire. His body had a subtle ache in it and his head a light throb, likely from stress and having slept like shit last night.

  Moving through the quiet campsite, his jaw clenched as he remembered the hateful little taunt Allie had thrown at him right after they’d had sex. A taunt that had slid straight through his heart like a knife through soft butter.

  He crunched some newspaper in the makeshift fire pit and laid some kindling down. Crouching down, he lit a match and held it to the paper, watching it catch fire.

  Not like he could really blame her for the venomous words though. He’d completely stuck his foot in his mouth with that little comment about her not thinking about Ken’s wedding. Hell, how had he let that come out? No matter whether or not he’d been thinking it.

  And Allie had been hurt. The way her soft, curvy body had tensed beneath him. So she’d thrown out that vicious response. Part of him knew her words had been a deliberate lie to hurt him. They had to be. How long had she denied a lingering interest in Kenneth?

  He stood again and walked down the lake, shoving a hand through his hair.

  But now there it was. A tiny seed of doubt that maybe there was a ring of truth in her words. A doubt that had his stomach clenching and the bitter burn of jealousy in his throat.

  Why should he be jealous? Why should he even care? Damn, she should have been out of his system now. He’d slept with her. Goal accomplished. This fervent need to have her that had been in his blood for years should’ve been extinguished. Just like any other woman he went to bed with. Sure there was the initial desire, but generally after one night the itch was scratched.

  So why was it different with Allie?

  His cock twitched beneath his jeans. The memory of how she’d looked before he’d left the tent this morning flitted through his head. She’d been snuggled deep into the sleeping bag, curled up into fetal position. Her lips moist and parted. God he’d wanted her. Again. And he hated that weakness within himself.

  He turned away from the lake and walked back to the fire, now crackling and smoking in the early morning dawn.

  Allison wasn’t out of his system. Far from it.

  The zipper on the tent sounded and he turned to see her climbing out. She kept her gaze lowered—a towel wrapped around her slender body as she strode across the site toward him.

  He found himself hoping she would kiss him, whisper good morning. Hmm. What an asinine fantasy.

  Instead she moved right past him to kneel down and grab the bottle of cleanser out of the duffle bag by the chair.

  Clint’s gaze caught on the naked globes of her ass, peeking out from under the towel. God in heaven. His dick jumped to attention and the air sucked from his lungs.

  She stood and turned around. He lifted his gaze, but she’d already caught him looking.

  Her mouth thinned, her cheeks turned pink again. “Do you have to ogle me?”

  “I’ve done a hell of lot more than ogle you, Allie.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Fuck you.”

  “Is that another invitation?”

  He watched the tension invade her body and her gaze turned hard.

  “No. It wasn’t an invitation. And don’t count on getting into my pants again—the first time was a fluke. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go wash the smell of sex-that-never-should’ve-happened off me.”

  Her eyes narrowed and mouth tight, she swept toward the lake.

  He caught her wrist before she could move past him.

  “It should’ve happened. And it’ll happen again,” he promised before he could stop himself and reached his thumb out to trace her bottom lip. “And next time when I’m inside you, I’ll make damn sure my name is the only one you’re calling out in your head.”

  Her cheeks flushed and something close to regret flickered in her gaze. Then she tugged free and scowled.

  “Like I said, don’t count on it.”

  He watched as she ran to the lake’s edge and dropped the towel before wading into the water.

  Her shrill scream swept over the vast lake and into the canopy of trees.

  “Gah, this is insane.” She dunked underwater and then surfaced, squeezing the soap into the palm of her hand.

  She sure did bathe a lot. Clint jerked his gaze away from her lush curves, his blood pounding harder. Not that he was complaining with such a great view.

  He swallowed hard and winced. Damn. Maybe he was getting a bit of a sore throat.

  He strode over to the SUV and grabbed a bottle of water out of the back, downing half of it in one swallow. His fingers crunched around the plastic bottle and he used the back of his hand to wipe across his forehead.

  His brows drew together and he lowered the water back down to his side uneasily. No. It couldn’t be. He hadn’t felt hot. His skin had probably just retained some of the heat from the fire. Of course. That was all.

  He grabbed the muffins from the car, another couple of bottles of water, then turned to head back to the fire.

  Allison had left the lake and gone back into the tent. The sounds of her getting dressed and cursing about being cold could easily be heard.

  He sank back into the chair, just as the ache in his body seemed to intensify. Hell, he should’ve made himself attempt to get more sleep this morning.

  Maybe food would help. He pried open the container of muffins and lifted two out. Leaning forward, he set one on Allison’s chair and kept one for himself.

  “I’m starving.”

  His gaze lifted to where she’d just emerged from the tent. She’d put on jeans today with the long-sleeved black shirt.

  “Coffee ready?” she asked, sitting down and picking up her muffin. “Hmm. No bacon today?”

  “No.” He unwrapped his muffin and broke off a piece. “If you want coffee, you’ll have to make it.”

  She sighed. “Shall I give you a foot massage as well?”

  The muffin was tasteless in his mouth, but he forced down the bite.

  “I’d prefer a full body.”

  “I bet you would.” She grabbed the bottle of water he’d handed her and unscrewed the cap. “I don’t need any coffee. I’ll just drink this.”

  He nodded in response, finding it easier just not to talk. Skipping the coffee was probably a good thing. The acidity would just aggravate his throat further.

  “What are we going to do today? Another hike? More canoeing?”

  He gave a half shrug and took another bite of muffin. Hell, going back to sleep was starting to sound like a great idea.

  “You know,” her tone held the slightest bit of suspicion, “you’re not acting like yourself.”

  Unable to force down any more of the muffin, he put it on the ground and closed his eyes again. The wave of dizziness didn’t ease, just seemed to intensify.

  He heard her stand up.

  “Okay, well, whatever. You’re going to ignore me. Fine. You know, I think I’m going to take a walk.”

  He lifted one eyelid and gave her a look of disbelief.

  “What?” She lifted her hands and shrugged. “I’ve gotta use the bathroom, okay? Or, sorry, the ground.”

  He waved her off, and closed his eyes again. His head pounded harder and his throat had begun to hit the difficult to swallow stage. Damn it. There’d be no more denying it. He was sick.

  With an inward curse—since it hurt to even breathe, let alone talk—he hoped like hell whatever had infected him would pass quickly.

  Allison cast a quick glance at the c
ampsite and ran her hand over the pocket of her jeans.

  Relief mingled with the rapid pounding of her heart when she felt the slight bulge of Clint’s cell phone. Thank God she’d thought to slip it into her jeans after her morning swim.

  Clint was nearly slumped over in his seat when she looked at him again. Her brows drew together and a spark of concern lit inside her, but she quickly brushed it aside.

  “This is the chance you’ve been waiting for,” she muttered to herself. “You have to find an open area to get a signal.”

  She needed to get away from Clint. After last night she couldn’t stay any longer with him or she’d risk losing more than just her inhibitions to him. She’d lose her heart. His little comment had hurt. Much, much more than it should have.

  Allison pushed on through the trees and ignored the prickle of fear at the thought of the wild animals they’d seen yesterday. Once she found a clearing in the trees, she pulled the phone from her pocket and flipped it open.

  Her gaze looked on the bars of service available. Nothing yet. Maybe she needed to get to higher ground? She plunged through onward, desperate to get at least one bar. One bar meant she could call someone. Anyone. Definitely not Leah again, though. That little witch had turned against—there!

  She gasped and dug her toes into the earth, stumbling another couple of steps before she jerked to a rough stop.

  A bar. There was one—damn it! It was gone. She groaned and took a couple of steps backward, lifting the phone higher into the air. There it was again.

  Keeping her arm raised, she hit the button to access Clint’s phone book and scrolled through it. She saw Ken’s name and hesitated, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. Hmm. It might be a bit crazy, but then he could just be the smartest choice.

  The man could maybe talk some sense into his completely nutty kidnapping friend. Completely amazing in bed kidnapping—stop it.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she hit dial and stood on her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to the phone. She didn’t dare lower it in case she lost that one bar.

  The ringing came through unsteady and weak, but she heard it. Her pulse jumped and her muscles tensed with the hope that he’d answer.

  The ringing stopped before there was silence. Had she lost the signal?

  “Clint? Is that you, buddy?”

  She heard his voice and squealed, “Ken?”

  “Allison?” His voice came across crackly, but the confusion in his tone was obvious. “What are you doing on Clint’s phone?”

  “Kenneth. I need a favor. Can you send someone—?”

  “What? Allison, you’re breaking up. Where are you?”

  “Fuck. I’m in the woods. The goddamn woods with Clint, our forest ranger friend.”

  “What? All I heard was ‘fuck a forest ranger’ or something. You’re cutting out like crazy. Look, can you call me back when you get better recepti—”

  “Don’t you dare hang up! Clint has kidnapped me to keep me from talking to you. Did you hear me? You need to send someone to come pick me up out here.”

  “I can’t—did you say he—”

  “Montana. He took me to some bear-ridden forest in Montana.”

  “Allie?”

  The hoarse male cry came from nearby in the woods. Allison slammed the phone shut and stuffed it back in her pocket, scowling. Had Kenneth even heard any of that?

  “Hold on, I’m still going to the bathroom,” she yelled.

  She heard his footsteps halt and she waited a few seconds before clearing her throat.

  “Okay, here I come.” She strode back into the forest, forcing a smile onto her face.

  Clint leaned against the trunk of a tree, looking pale and maybe even a little weak. Her brows drew together and she slowed her stride. Was he getting sick?

  “What were you doing?” he rasped.

  “I told you. I was going to the bathroom.”

  His head moved from side to side and his gaze narrowed. “I could have sworn you were talking to someone.”

  “Oh that,” she waved her hand and moved past him back toward the campsite, “there was this deer nearby watching me pee. I told it to back the hell off before I shot it and had it hung above my fireplace.”

  She held her breath, hoping he didn’t suspect she’d been on the phone. But how could he? She bit her lip, increasing her stride. She’d just have to put his cell phone back into the SUV when he wasn’t watching.

  The fire was still going when she sat back down into the chair. Her pulse had yet to slow as she let her tongue sweep across her dry lips.

  Clint entered the campsite again, lagging behind longer than she’d first thought.

  He stopped in front of the fire and stared down at it, his gaze unfocused and unblinking.

  “Clint?” she prodded hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Just fine.” His voice was scratchy. “Though, I’m going to lie down in the tent for a minute.”

  “Umm…okay.” She lifted one eyebrow.

  He stared at the fire another minute, before he blinked.

  “Right. Lie down.” His head nodded a bit sluggishly up and down. “Be back…in a few.”

  “Okay.” She tilted her head and watched him stumble back into the tent.

  He didn’t bother to zip it and a second later she heard him collapse onto the mattress.

  Hmm. This was interesting. She tapped her foot on the ground and glanced around the campsite. Too bad they were miles from civilization, or she’d consider trying to hike out on foot.

  She sighed and looked out over the lake. Canoeing had been fun yesterday. Maybe she should give it a try again. Alone.

  Visions of the boat flipping and her being tossed into the frigid water, only to be snatched up by some bear who happened to be swimming across the lake flickered through her head. Hmm. No, solid ground sounded much safer.

  She glanced back at the tent and frowned. It was too quiet. He must really be out.

  She stood and moved hesitantly toward the flap to the tent. Lifting it up, she peeked at the bed.

  Clint lay on his stomach, his arms spread out and his head turned to the side on the pillow facing away from her. She stepped into the tent, telling herself she just wanted to grab a sweater. She moved right to the edge of the bed and knelt down beside him.

  His face was flushed and his forehead had beads of sweat across it. His lips were parted and the breaths escaping came in shallow gasps.

  She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and placed her hand against his forehead. Jeez. He was burning up.

  Rocking back on her heels, she gave him a considering glance. Had he known he was coming down with something when he’d kidnapped her? And how long had he been this sick?

  Realization hit a second later. Shit. Had she gotten him sick? She glanced back down at him and made a tally of his symptoms. The tension eased from her shoulders and she sighed. He probably had the same damn thing she’d just gotten over.

  The air whistled out from between her clenched teeth and she shook her head. It was a doozy too.

  She took a few steps backward. This so wasn’t her problem. Whatever happened to him now was nothing but karma. She’d just go out and throw another log on the campfire, then sit to enjoy the view.

  She turned to leave the tent and tripped over his jeans. The familiar jingle of keys sent a tingle of awareness down her spine. Keys. Those couldn’t possibly be the keys to the SUV, could they?

  She cast him another quick glance to ensure he was still asleep, then crouched down to dig through the pockets of his jeans. Sliding her finger into a metal loop, she pulled the keys from the denim slowly.

  Her eyes widened and her pulse took off as she recognized the key to his vehicle.

  Oh God. Could she do it? Just get the hell in the car and drive off? Her heart skipped a beat. But Clint was sick. That would be wrong.

  He kidnapped you and possibly slept with you just to take your mind off Kenneth’s wedding.
Take the keys and go. You can send help for him later.

  On a split-second decision, she listened to her inner voice and ignored her conscience. She hurried out of the tent, sprinting toward his SUV.

  Once inside she shut the door and locked it. She glanced back at the tent, the blood roaring through her veins. Her mouth dried out.

  She struggled against the hesitation that again flared up. He’d freak out when he figured out she’d left.

  Allison tugged open the glove compartment and pulled out an old receipt and a pen. She scrawled a harried I’m going home, but I’ll send someone in the nearest town back to get you on the receipt and hesitated. What if he’d discovered she’d left already? It was risky to run it back. But she couldn’t just drive off without leaving him a clue to where she went. If he’d been a random kidnapper, sure. But this was Clint. They’d been friends since they were kids.

  She unlocked the door and pulled the handle, sliding back out of the SUV. Her feet hit the ground with a thud before she tiptoed back to the campsite.

  Instead of going back into the tent—because she would not be that stupid—she set the receipt on his chair and placed a big rock on top of it.

  A loud, raspy cough erupted from inside the tent and she froze, choking back a startled gasp. Please fall back asleep. Please fall back asleep.

  “Allie?”

  Shit.

  “Please…bring me a water?” he asked weakly.

  What could she do? Grab him a water and run like hell? No. That wouldn’t work.

  “Allie?”

  She’d hesitated too long. The sound of him stumbling off the bed could clearly be heard.

  Go. With a barely audible groan she took off at a run toward the SUV again.

  “Allie—”

  His voice cut off as she jumped in and slammed the door to his vehicle. She tossed a water bottle out the window so he would at least have that, then jammed the keys into the ignition.

  The engine roared to life and she slammed the gear into drive. Clint’s hand slapped against the back window and she yelped, hitting the gas. Dirt flew as the SUV shot out of the camping site.