by Karen Anders
Of course he said he could make it. He knew she wouldn’t leave him and they’d be caught and killed, but he had hit his head and he was woozy.
She focused on counting and giving him rescue breaths and kept it up when she wanted to shout, “Don’t die. Don’t leave me.” How much time had passed? “Russell, come back to me. You’re a marine. Don’t give up! Breathe, damn you!”
He coughed, his body convulsing hard, and she pushed him onto his side as a small amount of water dribbled out of his mouth. He started to shake, and she gathered him in her arms, rubbing his skin. It was several minutes before he did anything more than breathe, and Neve closed her eyes, so grateful. She didn’t even try to excuse away her feelings. She didn’t need this threat to make her see the truth, damn it.
“Neve—” His lids lifted, and his eyes were so blue, so deep with concern. She curled her hand around his jaw and squeezed, holding him tight with her other hand. “Breathe deep. Don’t talk right now.” Fear still throbbing through her, she closed her eyes tightly as she rested her head against his. Determined not to let fear overwhelm her, she made herself concentrate on taking deep, steadying breaths, making her muscles relax.
He coughed again, giving her an almost smile at her tone. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured huskily.
She let her hand linger for a few more minutes, then she looked at the girl. Her panic, her fear, her relief at having him conscious and breathing on his own, came dangerously close to the surface, and Neve held on to her composure by a thread, her voice breaking badly. “I need to get him somewhere safe and tend to his wounds. How far is your village?” She took a breath, feeling like she was going to shatter, realizing she couldn’t. She had to be strong and get Russell medical attention. The drug runners’ threat was neutralized, and they had escaped. She forced herself to pull it together even as Russell watched her solemnly.
“Not far.” The girl leaned forward and squeezed her arm with sympathy. She was a self-possessed little thing. “The traficantes de drogas don’t know me. They won’t follow. They’re happy to have their drugs back.”
She helped Neve get Russell to his feet and, without asking, took the pack from his back and shouldered it.
He started to protest and she shook her head, her expression fixed and defiant. “I am stronger than you think. Follow me.”
Neve kept her arm around him as they walked. She was still shaken, and Russell coughed a few times.
“What are your names?” the girl asked. “Mine is Opal, like the gem.”
“I’m Neve and this is Russell.”
“Rock,” he rasped. “I prefer Rock.”
The girl looked at him warily, and it was not surprising. He’d plucked her off the path and put the fear of God into her with that look he’d given her. He was big and intimidating. But geez, that was one of Neve’s favorite things about him.
“Why were those men chasing you?”
“Drug runners. They don’t like anyone near their merchandise. I got too close and these men...they take what they want. You saved me from a terrible fate. They don’t ask permission when they want to be with a woman.”
“What tribe?”
“I’m Emberá. My village is not much farther. You both can rest and Rock can get patched up.”
“I can handle that. I have medical training.” Neve sounded proprietary, but she didn’t care.
Opal nodded. “He is a soldier,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone. “You’re an Amazon warrior, though.” She smiled.
Russell chuckled, then coughed. “I’m retired. But she is an Amazon warrior. We’re just visiting.”
In the distance, as they topped a rise in the trail, Neve saw structures emerge. The girl picked up her pace, and Neve and Russell followed. Russell wasn’t doing too well. His breathing was labored, and he kept stumbling. She was taking on more of his weight. She hoped he didn’t have a concussion.
“Retired, my ass,” Neve murmured.
As they hit the outskirts of the village, she felt like she was dragging a slab of granite. “Just a little farther, Marine.”
He perked up at that. The settlement was not much different than the other village where they’d eaten. The town had a round, thatched, elevated common house, surrounded by rectangular wooden homes with metal roofs. Opal led them to one of the simple houses on stilts. “You can stay here. It’s vacant right now. The family has left. I will let my father know that you’re here, and will bring you something to eat.”
She reached out and touched Russell’s arm. “Thank you very much for saving me. I am in your debt.”
“You’re safe and sound. That’s enough for me,” he said, smiling. “Driving off a cliff was a new experience.” Giving him a cheeky grin, she shoved Russell’s pack up over her head onto the porch. She was definitely stronger than she looked.
A harrowing experience, Neve thought. But the girl’s quick thinking and resourcefulness had saved them, too. “If you hadn’t been there, we would have been in big trouble. So we’re even.”
Opal turned and ran off.
With Neve’s arm steadying him, Russell navigated the notched log that was used for a staircase.
Inside there was one room, a large, wide hammock that could easily accommodate two people with room to spare and two tables with chairs. Neve slipped off her pack, and Russell dropped into one of the chairs and cradled his head in his hands. She went back out to the porch and dragged in his pack. Opening hers, she dug around inside for the first-aid kit.
There wasn’t even a basin inside, so she used the cooking pot and poured in some of the purified water. She started with the worst injury. His upper arm. A chunk of flesh was neatly sheared away where the bullet had just creased his skin. She pulled out the supplies she needed from the kit with trembling hands, trying with all her might to stay professional about this. But it was difficult. This was Russell, and he wasn’t some victim. He was... Her throat closed up. Oh, God, she couldn’t lose it. While she cleaned the wound with water and then swabbed on some iodine and added a topical antibiotic, Russell stoically suffered through the pain with a clenched jaw and occasional grunts. Swiping the wound one more time with iodine, she wrapped his arm in gauze and taped it up.
With a gentle lift of his chin with her fingers and thumb along his jaw, she tilted his head to get a better look at his nasty gash, red and still oozing blood. His skin was warm, and the bristles of his stubble prickled not unpleasantly against her sensitive pads.
She went through the same process with his minor head wound as Opal returned with food, which she set on the table. When Neve was finished, she went to step away, but Russell grabbed her wrist and drew her face close to his and said, “Thank you.”
For a long, drawn-out moment, she stared into his blue eyes and remembered his body floating in the water of that underground pool—drowning.
He’d known he wasn’t up to the task. He knew it was going to get dicey, but the alternative of saying so and cementing the fact that she wouldn’t have left him there to die didn’t even cross his mind, she was sure.
His courage, his conviction and his ability to melt every bone in her body made her crazy. He was so close, and he smelled so inviting, and suddenly Neve felt very fragile and very shaky inside. Clenching her teeth against her own emotions, she said, “You’re welcome.” Then she glared at him. “But if you ever...ever put your life in danger again without us having a conversation about it and taking as many precautions as possible, I’ll...I’ll...” A sob caught in her throat, tears welling in her eyes as a delayed reaction washed over her with concussive force.
She looked down at him and pushed hair off his forehead with unsteady fingers. She tried so hard to be cool and unemotional, but the instant she met his gaze, something inside her just collapsed. She touched the side of his face, his skin warm and alive. He penetrated her soul and made her hurt. “You scared the crap out of me, Marine.” The thought of losing Russell hit her, and her throat closed up with a painful cram
p, only this time her vision blurred with tears.
“Neve,” he whispered softly. “Aw, babe.”
She held his gaze, her eyes awash with tears, and Russell brushed his knuckles across her cheek, then tucked her wet hair behind her ear. His expression etched with strain, he let a strand curl around his finger, then swallowed hard and looked at her, his eyes dark and tormented. Then releasing a long, shaky sigh, he shifted and pulled her across his legs, gathering her up in a tight, enveloping embrace.
Neve sagged against him, unable to hold in all the raw and turbulent emotions that surged through her. She’d thought she could hide her feelings, but being held by him, having him share her fear, finally having his arms around her in acknowledgment of those feelings, was just too much to handle, and she huddled in his arms, pressing her wet face into the curve of his neck. The devastation of almost losing him was just too much.
It seemed like an eternity before she had cried herself out, her harsh sobs dwindling to the occasional ragged one. Pressing her throbbing, swollen eyes against his throat, she worked at regaining control, waiting for her emotions to settle.
Releasing a heavy sigh, she wearily lifted her head, knowing that, although a damned good cry might take the edge off, it didn’t fix anything. There were still so many complications with Russell.
“Neve...” he whispered hoarsely against her hair. “I know I’m not the man for you...in the long run...”
She covered his mouth, and he kissed her fingertips. That one single, gentle act devastated her, and she caught him by the back of the neck, her hand sliding over silky hair and hot skin. “But life is too short? Is that what you’re saying?” It was clear from the look in his eyes and the hard-on she was riding he wanted her. This was about so much more than sex. If it had been just about the physical, this would be such a no-brainer. But she didn’t want to hurt him, hurt her brother, break her own heart.
“Yes. That, and you’re Tristan’s little sister, and I feel like hell wanting this but if I don’t have you, I think I’ll go insane.”
“It’s risky. So risky, Rock. We want different things, are on different paths.” She shivered when she used that coveted name—so personal, so intimate to her.
He groaned softly at the sound of his nickname on her lips. “I know. If I ever hurt Tristan...” he said, then swallowed, a hollow look in his eyes. She had fought the good fight; she’d thought she had everything under control, but that roughly spoken admission, that statement of commitment, completely did her in. “Right now, in this moment, our paths overlap. Can we agree it’s enough for now?”
“On one condition,” she murmured.
“What?”
She collected her courage. She couldn’t be with him unless something important was resolved between them. “Can you forgive me? Trust me again. No more handcuffs.”
He blinked, grinning. “Ever?”
At that teasing glint in his eyes, she gave him a dry, amused look. “That could be up for discussion,” she said, her voice whiskey soft.
His eyes flashed, and he went even harder beneath her. “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not against submission, Rock, as long as I get to dominate sometimes.”
“Damn,” he swore softly. His face showing the strain, he took a shuddering breath. “On that condition?”
“Yes?” She was all ears.
“Promise me you will never ditch me again.” He rose with her in his arms and headed toward the wide hammock, the movement of his hips and thighs making her ride against his thick, hard heat. He laid her down, and with the kind of balance that was reserved for sea captains and tightrope walkers, he got in without any scary mishaps. Her heart was starting to pound, and when he dropped his weight on her and she wrapped her legs around his hips as he settled between her thighs, his voice dropped an octave into deliciously gruff. “Promise me you will also discuss putting your life in danger so we can take precautions.”
She opened her mouth, but he said, “Shh...just one more thing.”
“What?” she asked, her breath hitching. Overloaded with sensation, Neve tightened her arms around him and closed her eyes. Opening her mouth against the soft skin of his neck, she was desperate for the taste of him.
He didn’t move or speak for a moment, his breathing choppy, then he said, his chest expanding raggedly, “Tell me you’re sorry. But only if you truly mean it.”
“I am sorry, so sorry,” she whispered, her heart in her voice as she kissed his neck again. “I promise, Rock. You have my word.”
He cupped her jaw, and the anticipation was killing her as she met his gaze. It softened to such an intensely tender look, she ached. His mouth dropped to hers, and this wasn’t a hello kiss. It was a full-out assault, an I-need-you, real man kiss.
She made a low sound in her throat, surrendering to him as she’d wanted to do so many times. He increased the pressure of his mouth, an eating kiss, his mouth trailing her throat, then back to her lips.
He was huge and muscular, and for someone being held by a guy who pulled a trigger easily, she felt almost fragile in his arms, his kiss tender, as if waiting for her to give him more. Helpless to do anything else, she took the kiss deeper, savoring the hard feel of his erection. The palms of her hands swept up his chest, and she moaned a plea for more, lifting herself against him, counterstroking along the length of him, giving them both what they demanded.
He jerked against her as she yielded all that she had because she could do no less with him. Her Rock. The hungry heat of his mouth drowning her, the feel of his hand against her face destroying her.
He rocked his hips and she responded, his breathing harsh and labored. Locking his arm under her, he dragged in a ragged breath of air, then thrust against her again. Reaching down, she grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head so she could get her hands on his hard-muscled, bare chest, caressing over the firm, delineated contours, running her hand all the way down to his lower abdomen.
He moaned softly and twisted against her. “Christ, Neve. I don’t have anything to protect you. I should have been prepared, but I didn’t want the temptation.”
Snagging his waistband, she plunged her hand inside and stroked him, and he broke their kiss as he threw his head back, thrusting hard into the palm of her hand, the feel of him so hot and smooth, the tip like velvet.
“It’s all right. I’m safe and clean. The Pill...”
His breath shuddered out. “Me, too. I always protect my partner, but it’s been a long time.” She stroked him again, and he lost his voice. Bracing his hands, he lost control, his hips moving again and again until he grabbed her wrist and went to his knees. “Any more and I’m done,” he whispered, “and I want to be deep inside you before that happens.”
His hands went to her garments and he stripped her upper body bare, then her lower, dropping her clothes over the side of the hammock.
She tore at his button and zipper and with careful movements, he shimmied out of them, and they were gone.
She shivered when his hard, hot body pressed down on her, the weight of him felt so good, covering her mouth in a kiss that made her sob, made her move against the hardness of him, made her crazy with wanting. Cupping her buttocks, he slid down her body, his moist mouth on her center hungry, wet and wild.
“Come for me, Neve,” he whispered hoarsely, giving her unimaginable pleasure.
“Rock,” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “Oh, yes.”
With an agonized groan, she clutched his head, her hands twining in his hair, tightening, pulling. Relentless, she rocked against him as the sensations inside her gathered and gathered, pulling into one hot, pulsating center. He didn’t stop as the sensations converged, and she cried out and arched stiffly against him when it ruptured, the explosion rocketing her off into a shuddering release.
He surged up her body, his mouth taking her throbbing nipples one at a time. Making a low, incoherent sound deep in his throat, he plundered her with his mouth and Neve
clutched at him, a jolt of sensation driving her deeper and deeper into the heat of urgency.
He slid his hand heavily down her spine, cupped her rear and meshed her hips to his. She felt his broad erection, the warmth and the pressure, and she hooked her leg around his, sliding it up to his thigh to his hip. Then she arched into him, urging, her hand sweeping wildly over gorgeous power, her fingertips molding to curved muscle and man.
Her touch slid lower. His stomach muscles contracted instantly as she neared his groin, and his moan of pleasure thrummed through her.
Chapter 10
Rock fell apart. Like a HALO jump, his feelings tumbled over each other with the feel of her warm, silky palm sliding over his erection again.
He curled her tighter to him, kissing her madly, then drew back long enough to murmur. “Christ, you’re an addiction.”
And she was—addictive from her kiss that twisted him into a pretzel. He didn’t know if he wanted to keep her as close as possible or turn in the other direction.
He kissed her ribs, crushing her back, the need to bury himself inside her quickly and appease this wild hunger for her. But it wouldn’t matter. She was more than under his skin. She was inside it. And when her hand closed around him, she took him with her—away from danger and isolation, from ignoring everything he’d wanted from the moment he’d laid eyes on her.
Since they’d met, she made him indulge in feelings and sensations. Trapped with her, he gave them freedom. She stroked him heavily, her little hand working him into a frenzy that threatened his control.
Rock gritted his teeth, then grasped her wrist. “What did I tell you about that?”
“You are such a killjoy,” she groused.
“No, ma’am. There will be plenty of joy, babe. I’m having my way with you.”
“Now you’re talking,” she said, and they laughed.
“I’m not interested in talking,” he whispered, and her eyes glazed over as he bent to taste the smooth texture of her skin, loving the way she sounded so damn sexy.