And emotions roiled inside him, a tumult of longing, guilt, regret. His gaze drifted over her face, her lips, the red powder of a married woman in the part of her hair—a disguise that should have been the truth.
He clamped his jaw, trying not to brood over the painful past, to force his mind to the journey ahead. They were heading into the lawless mountains, leaving all civilization behind. He had to stay alert, protect Maya at every turn.
But he also had to face the truth. He’d hurt Maya badly when he’d left. He’d let down the woman he’d loved.
And she deserved to know the truth. He had to explain why he’d left her that night, the events that had changed both their lives. But not yet, not here.
And not all of it. Not the part that would disgust her, the secret he would take to his grave.
Because in truth, he’d hadn’t left only to keep her safe from Singh—but to protect her from himself.
A deep sense of unease woke Maya late that afternoon.
She opened her eyes, blinking at the gunmetal clouds seething above her, the steep, forested hills that flanked the winding road. The fragrance of pines filled the cool, mountain air. The bus vibrated roughly beneath her, its engine screaming as it slowed for a curve, and she clutched the cargo rack to keep from sliding away.
And memories rushed back—the bookseller’s glassy eyes, the page fragments splattered with blood, that ominous sense of danger that had plagued her dreams.
She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling for the medallion beneath her tunic, then sagged back in relief. She hadn’t lost it, thank God. But that sinister feeling of dread, that whisper of imminent evil still plucked at her nerves.
She sat up straighter and glanced at Deven beside her. His jaw was covered with a day’s growth of whiskers, his forehead furrowed as he looked out at the hills. His loose cotton shirt flapped in the breeze, emphasizing the muscular breadth of his back.
He turned his head, as if sensing her watching, and the tension in his eyes worried her more. “What’s wrong?”
“The bus is stopping.”
“Why? Is there a village?”
“I don’t think so.”
The bus lurched again, the engine whining in protest as the driver downshifted gears. Turning, Maya scanned the densely wooded hills bordering the road ahead. But there were no huts, no other buildings or trails. No reason they should stop. Except—
“There’s a roadblock,” Deven confirmed.
Her alarm growing, she leaned out and spotted a wooden barrier surrounded by police vans several curves ahead. Had Singh set this up? Her pulse ran amok at the thought.
“Come on,” Deven said. “We need to get off before it stops.”
Her gaze darted to the men perched on the cargo rack, and she lowered her voice. “What about them? What if they tell the cops?”
“We don’t have a choice. If we don’t get off, they’ll catch us for sure.” He picked up the backpack and rose.
Maya staggered to her feet behind him, trying to balance on the swaying bus. Then she stumbled across the roof to the ladder, ignoring the curious looks of the men.
Deven headed down first. Halfway down, he stopped and held out his hand. “Here. Hold on to me.”
“I’m fine. Go on.” She waved him off, scooted to the edge of the ladder, waiting while he climbed down the rungs. Then she turned, adjusted her grip on the metal railing, and began to descend.
A hand seized her wrist.
She snapped up her head and stopped. A man leered over the side—the same one who’d stared at her earlier on. “Let go,” she demanded. “I’m getting off.”
“Why the rush?” He bared his tobacco-stained teeth. “Maybe you don’t want the cops to see you? Maybe you need my protection to keep them away?”
She struggled to jerk her hand loose. He clasped her wrist tighter, annoying her even more. She wasn’t about to let this creep detain her. She pulled back and twisted hard.
But the wiry man was stronger than he appeared. His nails bit into her skin. He continued pulling, trying to haul her back up. Outraged, she hooked her foot in the ladder’s rung to stay in place. “I said to let go,” she gritted out, but he just laughed.
She glanced down, saw Deven waiting below her, poised to leap off the slowing bus. Growing desperate, she yanked her arm back, but still couldn’t get him to budge.
“Come on,” Deven called up, sounding impatient.
“I can’t. This guy—”
“Oh, hell.” Deven started back up the ladder, sudden fury etched on his face.
But she’d already had enough. Before the man could guess her intention, she lunged up and bit down hard on his hand. He screamed, let go.
She flew down the metal ladder, burning her palms on the rails, crashing into Deven on the bottom rung. She clung to the railing, fighting to keep her balance, afraid she was going to fall off. Deven grabbed her arm to steady her, and she turned to face the road.
The bus slowed for another bend. Her pulse raced even more. “You ready?” Deven asked.
“Yes.” Knowing every second counted, she inched across the bumper, inhaled deeply for courage, then leaped toward the side of the road. She hit the grass, her knees slamming into the ground, and cried out at the sharp stab of pain.
But Deven rushed over a heartbeat later. “Run!” He hauled her up, pulling her into motion. She stumbled, nearly fell, but managed to regain her feet.
A shout came from behind them. The police. Her heart galloping, she barreled after Deven up the hill.
“This way.” He dropped her arm, sprinted into the woods, and she followed, her breath rasping out of control. A shot barked out, and she accelerated even more.
Fueled by adrenaline, she trampled ferns, plowed past dense, prickly nettles, knowing she couldn’t risk slowing down. But the hill was slippery, wet from the recent rains. She tripped on a log and fell.
She shoved aside the twigs poking her face and hauled herself upright. Then she charged after Deven, dodging branches and trees.
But she was too tired, the hill too steep, and her sandals made it hard to run. She skidded again, nearly losing her balance. Branches whipped and stung her face.
She’d never make it. They were going to get captured—and it was her fault. That man never would have delayed her if she hadn’t refused Deven’s help.
Her legs spasmed and trembled. She wheezed in big gasps of air. A roar rose above the blood pressure pounding her skull, along with the shouts of approaching men.
Then suddenly, Deven stopped. She careened forward, propelled by her momentum, and crashed into his outstretched arm.
“What…?” She glanced at where he was looking and spotted the source of the roar. A river raced through the trees ahead—a vast, angry river—swift, wide, treacherous, churning with deadly rapids, swollen from the recent monsoons.
There was no way they could cross it. It was too big, moving too fast. They’d die if they even tried.
The voices grew louder behind them. Another gunshot whizzed by. She spun back to Deven and saw the terrible truth in his eyes.
They were trapped.
Chapter 7
Maya gaped at the torrent thundering past in a savage rampage—colliding with boulders, ripping trees loose and tossing them around like twigs. Trying to cross that river would be suicidal—but what else could they do? The police were gaining on them, crashing through the woods, just yards away. They had minutes at most to escape.
She swallowed hard, unable to steady her voice. “We have to get across.”
“But not here. Come on.” Deven broke into a run, and she followed, still scanning the swollen shores. But the river roared and seethed—boiling with rapids, clawing chunks of earth off the banks. And the opposite shore was nearly a thousand feet away—as unreachable right now as the moon.
They could never swim across; the current would sweep them away. And the chances of finding a bridge in the wilderness were nil. But there had to be a s
olution. They couldn’t let the police catch them now!
Then suddenly, she spotted some logs jammed against the rocks. She stopped, squinting, caught by their uniform shape. “Deven, look. I think there’s a raft.”
Her hopes surging, she skidded down the bank to the river, her certainty growing with every step. It was a raft, all right—about ten feet square, lashed together with rusted wire. But several logs dangled at an awkward angle, on the verge of breaking off.
“What do you think?” she asked Deven when he caught up.
“I’ll be surprised if it floats.” He climbed over the rocks, shoved the raft back into the river and stepped on board. The makeshift raft dipped, riding perilously low in the water, but at least it didn’t sink. “The damned thing’s going to break apart,” he muttered, grabbing a branch to use as a pole.
He was right, but what choice did they have? “We have to risk it. There’s no other way across.”
A shot rang out. She flinched, pivoted back, spotted three policemen racing down the hill. Her pulse rocketing, she scooped up a waterlogged branch, grabbed Deven’s outstretched hand and climbed aboard.
The raft tilted, sinking lower under her added weight, sending icy water lapping over her feet. She shivered, positioned her branch against the rocks next to Deven, and pushed. The raft tipped even more.
She dropped to her knees for balance and continued to shove with her pole. Deven grunted beside her, his arm muscles bulging. The raft slid back and broke free.
They drifted away from the bank, made a languid turn, and began to pick up speed. Maya glanced back just as a cop raised his gun and fired. She ducked, her heart thrashing in her throat. He’d missed—but they still weren’t out of range.
But Deven dropped to one knee and whipped out his own gun. The police scattered, diving for cover—buying them time. The raft twirled again, rocking dangerously as the current seized it. They moved faster, rounded a bend in the river and left the police behind.
Her ears still ringing from the gunshots, Maya pressed her hand to her erratic heart. “That was close.”
Deven didn’t answer. She shot her gaze to his face. He scowled at the seething maelstrom, his face muscles rigid with tension, harsh grooves bracketing his mouth.
And she knew what he wasn’t saying. The danger had just begun.
The current seized the flimsy raft, then moved them deeper into the river at a dizzying speed. The logs rippled and bobbed, sloshing icy water over her knees.
“We’ve got to get to the other side,” he shouted over the river’s din. He stuck his pole in the water, shook his head. “Too deep.”
Shivering, she clutched her now-useless pole. They had no way to steer, no way to control the raft. And if that wire didn’t hold, and the raft broke apart or sank…the current would either pull them under or dash them against the rocks.
The water thundered past. Trees on the bank flew by. She stared at the deadly current, knowing she had to keep them afloat. The frigid spray soaked her clothes.
Suddenly, a boulder appeared ahead. “Watch out!” she cried.
Deven whipped around and jabbed at the boulder with his pole, but they still crashed into the side. The raft shuddered, dipped precariously, threatening to break apart. More water washed over the logs.
But miraculously, they didn’t sink. They scraped by another rock, continued careening along. Maya clung to the wet, icy wood, cringing as the carcass of a goat floated by, feeling helpless and out of control.
A feeling she’d always despised—except in Deven’s arms.
The stray thought zinged out of nowhere, catching her off guard. She glanced at Deven kneeling beside her, his eyes burning with concentration, his jaw hewn from stone. His hair was soaked, slicked back from his rugged face, his wet clothes plastered to his muscular frame. He radiated power, single-minded intensity.
And beyond the fear gripping her nerves, beyond her anger over the past, she had to acknowledge the truth. Deven had always made her feel safe. He’d made her feel treasured, desired, wanted—a lure an abandoned child couldn’t resist.
She jerked her gaze to the turbulent water. She didn’t want to remember the rapture. She didn’t even want to like him again—because no matter how strong or attractive he was, that desire had only been fleeting, his promises had only been lies.
And therein lay the danger. There was something different about Deven. Something compelling. He had the power to make her lower her defenses, to evoke long-buried feelings and needs—the yearning for a family, love. Him.
“Look out!” he shouted.
Startled, she glanced up, saw a huge tree barreling toward the raft. Her mind went blank with fear.
“Push off!” Deven leaped to his feet and jabbed at the tree with his pole, trying to keep it from smashing the raft. Her pulse frantic, she added her own branch, struggling to turn it away. The raft bobbed, tipped up. She shoved with all her might. Sweat beaded her face despite the cold.
The tree changed course, and the raft spun free. She slumped back on her heels, rattled by the narrow miss. If that tree had hit them, they could have died.
But then a deep noise pierced her awareness. She tensed, listening hard, and realized the tenor of the river had changed. It sounded angrier, even more threatening. “What’s that noise?”
Deven jerked around and swore. “It’s a waterfall.”
A waterfall? She gaped at the swirling river—and realized he was right. The current was changing, sucking everything toward the center, moving even faster as it raced downstream.
“We have to jump off,” he yelled over the river’s noise.
Jump off? She stared at him in shock. “It’s too far. We need to get closer to shore.”
“There’s no time. Swim at an angle toward those rocks.” He pointed to the opposite shore. “And don’t put your feet down. They could get trapped if there’s any debris. Now go!”
She quailed at the dark, frothing water. Thunderous booms punctuated the roar. No way did she want to go in there. But Deven was right. There wasn’t time.
She slipped off her sandals, clutched them in her hand so she wouldn’t lose them, then plunged into the torrent and shrieked. The current instantly swept her downstream—heading straight for the falls.
Her nerves erupted with panic. She struck out toward the shore, swimming with a vengeance, angling toward the jumble of rocks. But the raging river tore at her hair and clothes with relentless force, threatening to suck her back in.
She gulped in mouthfuls of water, battling to stay afloat. Keeping her head up, her feet raised, she thrashed toward the opposite shore.
Her arms ached. The freezing water numbed her skin. But she forced herself to continue, arm over arm, yard after yard, until she’d nearly reached the shore. She made a final lunge, closed the distance to the rocks, then collapsed against them in relief.
But where was Deven? She glanced around, her teeth chattering, but he was nowhere in sight. She dragged herself onto a rock with effort, her muscles twitching with exhaustion, so cold she could hardly breathe.
And then she saw him—bobbing ten yards away near a clump of rocks. His head went down, pushed by the current. Sputtering, he came back up. He was trapped!
She didn’t hesitate. Tossing her sandals onto the bank, she leaped back into the river and swam frantically toward him, battling the current trying to pull her downstream. “Deven!”
He looked up, caught her eye. “Stay back!” he shouted. “You’ll go over the falls.”
She ignored him, kept swimming toward him, terror fueling her strokes. Suddenly, the current grabbed her, sucking her under. She clawed back up and gasped for air, her arms so tired she could hardly float. But she had to reach Deven. He would drown if she didn’t help.
She made another violent thrust and reached his side, then crashed against the rocks. She ignored the pain stinging her shoulder, bracing herself to stay up. “Where are you caught?”
“Here.” He shoved
at a rock but it didn’t budge. She added her strength, heaving with all her might. It teetered, fell back. They pushed and it tipped again. Maya grunted, strained. The rock toppled, and Deven broke free.
But the current seized her, began to drag her away. She cried out, reached blindly for Deven, and he managed to grab her hand. Then, still holding on to her, he towed her toward the shore.
The water swirled and crashed against them. Maya tried to swim, but her limbs had grown too cold to move. Endless minutes passed as the river churned around them, and her helpless feeling grew.
But amazingly, they reached the bank. Deven stood in the shallow water and pulled her to her feet. She staggered behind him out of the river and collapsed in a clump of weeds.
Her stomach heaved. She pressed her face to the grass, trembling uncontrollably, so frozen she couldn’t think. Deven crawled closer, threw his arm around her back and cradled her in his arms.
For an eternity, they just lay there. Overcome with exhaustion, Maya wheezed in air and shivered wildly, her emotions spinning out of control.
“You all right?” he rasped into her ear.
“Just…c-cold,” she gritted out, her teeth clacking hard.
“You’re lucky to be alive.” Sudden anger vibrated his voice. “Can’t you ever follow orders? Don’t you realize how dangerous that was?”
“But you…you would have…” She shook her head, unable to finish the thought.
He held her tighter, and she closed her eyes, taking comfort in his warmth, his strength, the security of his arms. But even the most powerful man could die.
And if she’d lost him…She shuddered, not wanting to examine the panic that thought provoked.
And suddenly, the enormity of their predicament hit her. The police were hunting them like animals. Singh was trying to kill them. He would never give up—no matter how many people lost their lives. And now, in that river, they’d nearly died.
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