He led her to a fallen tree, which sat between two healthy ones. “Sit here.”
“I can help.”
Gently, with a hand on her slender shoulder, he pushed her down on the log. “I can manage.”
“But—”
He cut her off. “I have it handled.” His tone left no room to argue and she didn’t. She gave him a small nod and he set to building a secure campsite.
It was nearly dark, but he could still see the tension on Avery’s face. She sat with her arms folded across her middle, watching him.
“Okay?” he asked and she nodded.
His gaze dropping to her bloody feet. Anger flashed through him. He needed to move fast. Get her into clean clothes. The river had washed away most of the blood from her clothes, but some still remained. He moved to his rucksack. After hunting through it he strode back to where Avery sat, and held out his spare cammies and a pair of socks. “Change into these.”
She looked at the camouflage pants and t-shirt. “I’m fine.”
“Your shirt is torn. How about changing that?”
She glanced down, her shoulders falling when she saw the bloody tear in the shirt. “All right. Where can I change?”
He turned his back to her. “Right here.”
Seconds later he heard clothing rustle.
“Finished,” she said.
Avery stood a few feet away, his shirt hanging on her slender frame. Damn if she didn’t look delicate and frail beneath the olive green fabric. Pretty. Feminine. Vulnerable.
Protective instincts kicked in, along with a healthy surge of attraction he quickly tramped down. Not the time or place.
His gaze dropped to her feet, covered in dirt and blood. Why the hell did she say she could run without shoes?
“Sit.” He grabbed his canteen off his rucksack and returned to kneel in front of her. With her feet in his lap he tore off a strip of his shirt so he could wet it. With care, he cleansed the blood and dirt, aware of her eyes on him, and the way she bit her lip every time he touched her.
“What happened to your shoes, Avery?” he asked quietly, hoping his suspicions were wrong. Bad guys usually took away your shoes upon capture so you couldn’t run away. Westerners didn't usually run around barefoot, so their feet were sensitive, making it an effective tool. He prayed she’d lost her shoes in the river, because the alternative was unthinkable.
She pulled her feet away. “Nothing.”
He returned them to his lap. “You didn’t lose them in the river, did you?” His gut told him the men who’d forced her off that ledge were responsible for her injured soles, and it made his stomach clench.
Her lack of response was answer enough. Quinn let out a low curse and reached for his First Aid kit. Tenderly, he put salve on the wounds and wrapped both feet, while keeping his thoughts from straying to what had happened to Avery before he found her. Getting her out of here alive was first priority. Killing every last one of the bastards who might have hurt her wasn’t an option. At least not until she was safe. Then he’d make them pay for harming her, because his gut told him that’s exactly what they had done.
“Hand me those socks.”
She passed them to him and he slipped them over the bandages. They would keep her feet warm, dry and protected for now.
“Stay here while I make a hidesite.”
He disposed of the bloody rag and supplies before gathering sticks and fallen branches. Behind him he heard the snap of a branch.
With a low curse, he lunged for Avery.
Chapter Two
One minute Avery helped gather branches and the next she laid face down on the ground with Quinn on top of her. Stunned, she tried to turn her head.
“Stay still.” Quinn’s lips brushed her earlobe, sending a ripple of sensation throughout her body.
Every muscle in his body was taut, alert, and raised her awareness. Not only to the feel of his muscular frame, but to the danger.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“When I tell you to stay put, I mean it.”
His voice was barely audible, but no less forceful. Avery bristled as he continued to speak.
“That branch you broke may have given away our position.”
Dread tightened her throat. She wanted to help, not be the cause of danger. Sitting idle wasn’t something she did well. Especially now, since her thoughts were apt to drift to places she didn’t want to go. Like the past three days.
A shudder worked through her. Her room had a small window in it. Too tiny to escape, but it had allowed her to count the days and nights of her captivity. And, truth be told, it lent a slice of comfort. Something to remind her there was a world outside those four walls and that she wasn’t alone.
Angry with herself, she nodded. How could she do something so stupid? Quinn hadn’t been breaking branches off trees; he’d been picking them up off the ground. She’d put them in danger because she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts.
“Relax. I can handle anything that comes our way.”
Quinn’s soft command brought her out of her thoughts. She didn’t want him to handle what came their way. Didn’t want it to come at all. What she wanted was to go to her hotel in Furkat, shower, sleep for twenty-four hours straight, and deliver the next shipment of books to the girls in Bil. The girls needed those books and she needed to deliver them. She’d made a promise a long time ago to a little girl named Dembe. Only death would make her stop delivering on her promise.
She didn’t need the inky darkness, the looming silhouettes of rocks, trees, and the mountain peak. And she certainly didn’t need Quinn’s hard, warm body pressed against hers. The sensual way his peppermint breath fanned her cheek. The faint scent of sandalwood clinging to his skin or the way his hand splayed along her ribcage, his fingers just grazing her breast. How his chest rose and fell steadily against her back.
Her heart started to race for another reason entirely. An entirely inappropriate reason for a woman who’d just broken off her engagement with her fiancé.
“How long do we have to stay like this?” she asked.
“Thirty minutes to be safe. Am I hurting you?”
Avery swallowed past her dry throat. “No.”
Silence stretched between them. She searched the dark for anything that moved. Every noise made her cringe and break out in a cold sweat.
“Relax.”
Quinn’s voice in her ear made her jump. Relaxing was not an option with him pressed so intimately against her and the possibility of bad guys showing up at any minute.
He shifted so she could rest her cheek on his forearm, bringing her in closer to his chest where she could hear his heart beating strong and steady. The warmth of his body seeped into hers and her eyes began to droop, despite her anxiety.
“Avery. Wake up.”
Avery opened her eyes with a start to find Quinn crouched in front of her. She lifted her head. “Is it safe to move?”
“Yes. But, you’re not going to.”
Before she could stop him, he scooped her up off the ground and strode to the log she’d sat on earlier, to deposit her gently.
“I’m not helpless,” she grumbled, even though her feet ached along with the rest of her body. Adrenaline had blocked the pain earlier, but it came on full force now.
“I’m well aware of that. Humor me, and this time stay put until I’m finished.”
He moved away until all she could see was his silhouette in the darkness as he gathered branches and stacked them a short distance away. Minutes later he returned, lifted her into his arms and carried her to the shelter he’d made. If her head hadn’t been swimming she would have demanded he stop treating her like a child. She could walk on her own two feet, no matter how much it hurt.
The shelter barely held both of them, but was completely hidden. Impressed, she scooted to the corner, sitting with her head ducked as he slid inside with her. Quinn pulled items out of a green bag—one of two he carried—using a penlight held be
tween his teeth. He sat with his profile to her, focused on his task, but she’d bet he was aware of everything around him. The alertness he demonstrated elicited trust and confidence. Made her want to lay her head on his shoulder and let him shelter her in those big, strong arms.
Sobering, she looked away. A woman who leaned, she was not. No matter how tempting. She had learned long ago to lean only on herself because there was no one else to count on after her parents were killed in a car accident and her aunt who took her in didn’t want her.
A hammer chipped away at her temples and she absently rubbed them, hating that her hands shook. That she jumped at every noise.
“You’re thinking too much.”
Quinn’s voice brought her abruptly out of her thoughts. Fine with her, because she didn’t want to remember the past three days. Not now, not ever.
Three days.
The words echoed in her head, made her tremble. To hide it from Quinn, she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Didn’t help. Only made her hurt worse.
She shifted when Quinn leaned closer, an open medical bag next to his combat boots. He handed her a canteen. “Drink slowly,” he cautioned.
The only time they’d given her food or water was when she began to pass out. And then it was moldy or stale, only enough to sustain her. She’d forced it down because she needed to keep her strength up, but most times her stomach rejected it.
She quickly took a drink to take her mind off it. Salt hit her tongue and she grimaced, thrusting the canteen back at him. “It’s got salt in it.”
He pushed it back. “It will rehydrate you. Do you think you could eat something?”
The thought of food made her stomach revolt. “Not right now.”
His deep green eyes studied her closely. She took another sip of the disgusting saltwater to distract him. It worked. He reached into his bag and handed her a white pill.
“What is it?” she asked warily.
“Ranger candy.”
At her look, he clarified. “Eight-hundred milligram Motrin. It’ll help with the pain.”
And give her a stomachache if she took it on an empty stomach. The reason he offered her food first.
“Maybe I could eat something.” She accepted the tablet. The sooner she got her strength back, the sooner she’d get back to her life. She’d choke it down if it meant getting those books delivered.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a pouch that had a brief, sharp odor when he tore it open. A couple seconds later, he handed it to her.
“What is this?”
“MRE—Meal Ready to Eat. Chicken and rice, I think.”
She took a bite, forcing the warm food down. All she could handle was two bites before she put it on the ground beside her. Then she squeezed her eyes closed and swallowed the pill with the saltwater. If it would help ease the pain in her body, she would take it no matter how bad it tasted.
“I need to assess your injuries.”
Unease skittered down her spine. She didn’t want him to see what they had done to her. Didn’t want that part of herself exposed. What she’d endured was hers and she didn’t want to share. Not with a stranger, not with anyone.
“Are you a doctor?” she asked. No reason for her to reveal herself if he wasn’t qualified. She prayed he wasn’t qualified.
“I’m a PJ—Pararescue Jumper, personnel recovery specialist. We are the most highly trained emergency trauma specialists in the military. My paramedic license is current, if you’d like to check my credentials.”
Damn. Definitely qualified. “You introduced yourself as Wolff Securities.”
He nodded. “I’m retired from the Air Force. Wolff Securities is a private security firm I started four years ago with my brothers.”
“Bodyguards?”
The corner of his mouth tilted in the sexiest half-smile she had ever seen. Attraction stirred in her belly, catching her completely off guard. She dropped her gaze from so he wouldn’t see.
“Yeah, bodyguards,” he mused.
And much, much more than that, his smile indicated, but she didn’t press.
Avery’s lids began to droop. She pried them back open, more out of habit than necessity. They had come into her room at all hours of the day and night to keep her off guard. Only the window kept her balanced. Well, as much as she could be while they beat her to keep her from escaping.
They’d only allowed her to try that once.
The repercussions were too severe for her to think about.
She shuddered.
“Here, lie down.”
Her eyes snapped open at the sound of Quinn’s deep voice.
“Get some rest.” He took the canteen out of her hands.
With a nod she lay down, too tired to care how hard the ground was or how her body ached. Quinn rolled a t-shirt and placed it under her head to use as a pillow, then covered her with an olive colored blanket. She had never been pampered a day in her life and it surprised her how easily she put herself in Quinn’s capable hands. Not a habit she could get into.
“I just need a few minutes,” she murmured as exhaustion pulled her down.
****
Quinn sat back on his haunches and scrubbed a hand down his face. Avery slept soundly. He wanted to tend her other injuries, but sleep would heal her body faster than anything he could do.
Escape and evasion would be slow going with her injured feet. Without boots to protect them, it would be agony for Avery. Even with boots, walking would be difficult. Running, out of the question. He would carry her.
Quietly, he packed up the supplies and sat down a few feet away from where Avery slept. He snapped off the penlight, his NVGs next to him in case he needed them before his eyes adjusted to the dark.
Avery whimpered. Seconds later, a stifled scream.
Quinn repositioned to where she lay and put a hand on her shoulder.
She flinched and tried to scoot away. “Please. No more,” she moaned.
A nightmare. Instead of waking her, he stretched out on the ground and pulled her into his arms. The last thing he wanted was to wake her and make her remember. Bad enough she couldn’t escape her torment even in sleep.
He wrapped one arm around her waist, using his other arm as a pillow. She lashed out, her nostrils flaring as she drew in deep, gasping breaths.
“Avery, it’s Quinn.”
“PJ,” she murmured and instantly settled down. Her body relaxed and little by little her breathing slowed.
Quinn rested his chin on top of her head. More protective urges surged through him and he shifted a little closer.
“What did they do to you, Avery Marks?” he murmured.
****
An hour before dawn, Quinn slipped away from Avery, gathered his rucksack, and touched her shoulder.
She came awake instantly, eyes darting around the small space. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. We’re leaving.”
“Oh. Okay.” She sat up and gripped her head with a low groan.
“Headache?”
“Yes, but I’m fine. We can go.”
Quinn put a hand on her shoulder. “We have a few minutes. Eat this first.” He thrust an MRE towards her, already opened and heated.
With a grimace she did as told, wrinkling her nose as she sipped the saltwater canteen. To her credit, she finished all of it without complaint. She handed it back to him and he disposed of the package before passing her a pain reliever.
“Ranger candy?” she asked with a small smile.
“For the headache.” He watched her swallow the pill with a swig of water and another grimace. Not that he blamed her. Warm saltwater tasted awful.
“Avery, I need to know if you have any other wounds.”
Her gaze dropped to the canteen she gripped in her hands. “No. I’m fine.”
Quinn reached out and captured her chin with his hand. He forced her to meet his gaze. “Are you trying to convince me or you?”
She jerked out of his grasp. “I said I’m fine. Can we go before the bad guys find us?”
Beneath the bravado lay a scared woman, but Quinn gave her the benefit of doubt and let it drop. Pushing her would only make her dig in her heels. He needed her to trust him, not pull away.
He slung the rucksack over his back, and helped her out of the hidesite. “I’ll carry you.”
Her brows rose and she held up a hand. “No, I can walk.”
His gaze dropped. “Your feet are shredded. The bandages won’t offer much support and I don’t have a spare pair of boots.”
“I’m—”
Frustrated by her stubbornness, he interrupted. “Fine, yeah, I got it.” He began walking away, the cool morning air not nearly as chilly as the glare he felt on his back. Minutes later she spoke.
“So you have a plan to get me back to Furkat?”
“I have a plan to get you home.” The nearest extraction point was halfway down the mountain and he had to get her there by o-thirteen-hundred. He’d made contact with his brothers early this morning while Avery slept. The time frame would be rough for Avery, but there weren’t many places to land a chopper on a mountain.
“Home? No, I have to go back to Furkat. There’s a shipment coming in. I still have work to do.”
He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. “My job is to bring you home and that’s what I’m doing.”
Her chin lifted at a mutinous angle. The sun peeked over the mountain and bathed her coppery hair in a warm glow.
“Well, I don’t need your services any longer. You can go.”
Quinn quirked a brow as she brushed past and limped down the mountain. Did she really think she could dismiss him and he’d let her go?
In two strides he caught her elbow. “Have you forgotten about the small army hunting you?”
Her silver-flecked eyes flared with anger. “Of course I haven’t forgotten. My life doesn’t stop because some Islamic extremists don’t like me teaching their girls to read. Their plan failed.”
He frowned. “What plan?”
She pulled her arm free. “Never mind. Look, I’ll cover your costs. Now go away.”
Maximum Risk Page 2