A heat that wasn’t anger flared in his eyes, and his hand closed around hers, trapping it against his chest. “No, you’re not a little girl, Willa,” he almost growled. “I’m far too aware of that. But just because I’m attracted to you doesn’t mean we’re going to turn tail and run back to College Station.”
His heart pounded beneath her hand, and her breath felt as if it were caught in her throat. “You’re attracted to me?” she asked, and to her disgust her voice squeaked with surprise.
He stared at her, and she saw raw, naked need in his eyes. It was the kind of need that Willa Simms had never stirred in a man before, at least not a man like Griffin Fortune. He was a man who could have anyone he chose. He probably had women throwing themselves at him. But apparently he wanted her—quiet, ordinary-looking, studious Willa.
Her heart soared and an answering need stirred deep inside her. Then Griff stepped away, letting go of her hand. He let her fingers slide through his slowly, then he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Oh, yeah, I’m attracted to you,” he said, his voice harsh and rough. “But I know that you come from a different world from mine. I know we have nothing in common. Don’t worry, it’s not going to interfere with what I have to do—which is protect you. And we’re not going back to College Station.”
“I still think it’s the right thing to do.” She spoke quietly as she turned away from him. He was right. He might be attracted to her—and God knew she was attracted to him—but their lives couldn’t be following more different paths. So the smart thing to do was ignore that attraction and try to focus on why they were here in El Paso. “How are we going to catch the kidnappers if they don’t know where we are?”
“That’s not our concern right now.”
She could feel him close behind her, but she wouldn’t turn around. She couldn’t. She suspected that he would have no trouble reading her face right now. And she didn’t want to be the pathetic spinster who was panting after a man she couldn’t have.
“That’s exactly our concern right now,” she forced herself to say.
“How would your godfather feel if you got hurt?” he said, laying his hands on her shoulders. He squeezed once, then let her go. “You know how much Ryan cares about you.”
“I know,” she whispered, longing for him to touch her again. “He’s been so good to me.”
“Then do him a favor and stay here, where you’ll be safe. Don’t make him worry about you, too.”
She spun around to face him, but there was only understanding in his eyes. “You’re not playing fair,” she said.
He nodded. “I know. But that doesn’t change anything. Ryan and Lily would both be sick with worry if you went back to College Station. Give your godfather a little time. If he hasn’t found something by the time you have to start teaching again, we’ll discuss going back to College Station.”
“That’s weeks away,” she said, appalled.
“I’m sure Ryan’s investigators will come up with something before then.”
He moved several steps away from her, as if he needed some distance, and said, “I’d like to check out the area today. How do you feel? Are you up to a hike?”
She touched the cut on her head. It no longer throbbed, but it was still a little sore. “I’d love to go for a hike. My head is fine.”
“We’re at a higher elevation here than in College Station,” he warned. “You have to worry about altitude sickness as well as your injury. Promise me that if your head starts to hurt or if you get light-headed at all, you’ll tell me.”
“I promise, Griff.” She turned to grab her coat. “Believe me, I’m not a martyr.”
“I hope not,” he muttered. “Let’s go, then.”
“I’m ready.” She stuffed her hat and gloves into her pocket, and followed him out the door.
“Hold on a minute,” he said, and he turned back to the door.
“What are you doing?”
He tossed her a grim look over his shoulder. “Just setting a few traps so I can check for uninvited visitors when we get back here. I’ll want to know if anyone’s been in the house.”
The sun was warm on her back, but Willa felt a chill as she watched Griff. His world was very different from hers, she acknowledged. In her world, she didn’t worry about dangerous people waiting in ambush for her inside her own house. She didn’t think about escape routes, as Griff was doing now. She watched his gaze linger on the shed where his truck was hidden, then scan the road and the area around the house.
She shivered, then wrapped her arms around herself. Finally Griff walked over to her. “It looks like you’re cold. Do you want to wait until it warms up a bit?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll warm up as soon as we start walking.”
“Let’s go, then,” he said. He hoisted the backpack he’d had in the trunk onto his shoulders and led the way out of the clearing surrounding the cabin.
The mountain rose behind the circle of trees that ringed the house, but there was a path that seemed to lead through the boulders and the bushes. Griff started out on it, then turned and waited for her to catch up with him.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m doing great,” she said. And she was. The winter air was crisp and clean, and felt fresh on her tongue. “This was a good idea.”
He gave her a nod, but she saw the warm approval in his eyes. She would keep up with him no matter what, she vowed.
They hiked steadily upward as the sun rose in the sky, warming her and the rocks that surrounded them. She unbuttoned her jacket and finally took it off, wrapping it around her waist. Griff maintained an even pace as they moved up the mountain. She managed to keep up with him, but she wished she’d spent more time at the health club in the last few months. Griff had been right. The air was thinner here in the mountains, and she was already breathing more heavily.
“We’re about halfway to the top of this peak,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Let’s stop here for a while.”
“We can go as high as you like,” she said, struggling not to pant. “I’m doing fine.”
He stepped off the path and pulled her down onto a large boulder. “You’re doing great. You must be in wonderful shape.” He hadn’t let go of her hand, and he absently rubbed it between both of his. “I stopped because we both need to go more slowly than usual until we get used to the altitude.”
It felt to her as if sparks flew off her hand as he continued to caress it, but he didn’t seem to notice. She struggled to catch her breath, but she suspected that the altitude had nothing to do with her sudden difficulty breathing. Griff’s closeness and the way he was touching her were responsible.
“Did you have a particular reason for coming up here?” she finally asked.
He shrugged and leaned forward, trapping her hand between his knees. “I just wanted to get a look at the area. It’s always smart to know where you are and what’s around you.”
“As in, looking for an escape route?”
He shot her a quick glance, and she thought there was admiration in his eyes. “You figure things out quickly.”
“It wasn’t that tough,” she answered, her voice dry. “After watching you set all your little traps before we left the cabin this morning, it wasn’t a big leap to realize you wanted to figure out a route away from the cabin.”
“You never know when we’ll need to have a way out.” He looked away from her, and she saw his gaze scan the horizon. “You always want to have a back door.”
“And what’s our back door in this case?” She tried to keep her voice light, but she knew that Griff was telling her something important. He would always have a back door, in every aspect of his life. He had probably been able to slip away from every woman who had fallen for him over the years—using one of his back doors.
She eased her hand away from his and curled it into her lap. She told herself she was doing the smart thing, but she suddenly felt much colder.
“There’s only the one road,” he said slowly, pointing to the narrow dirt track they’d taken to the cabin. “So we couldn’t drive out any other way. But there’s always this pile of rocks. As a last resort, they could hide you for a while. Especially at night.”
He turned to face her. “Remember that, Willa. If something happens in the cabin, don’t get in the car and start driving. Run out here instead, and hide until you can get a good look around. Don’t leave the area until you’re sure that there isn’t anyone waiting for you on the road.”
She shivered in spite of the warm sun on her back. “Nothing is going to happen at the cabin,” she said, her voice insistent. “No one aside from Ryan knows where we are. There’s no way anyone could find us.”
“I hope to God that’s true.” His voice was sober, and he looked around broodingly. “But don’t forget about this back door, and use it if you have to.”
“You’re giving me the creeps,” she said, and she stood. “Let’s check out the view from the top of this pile of rocks.”
He stood too, but didn’t start walking. “Maybe we’ve done enough for one day. Are you sure you want to keep going?”
“Of course I want to keep going. We might find another one of your back doors from the top of this hill.”
“All right, but we’ll take it nice and slow. I don’t want you falling on your bum when I’m not looking.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll give you plenty of warning if I’m going to fall.”
He looked over his shoulder to give her a grin, and it stole her breath away. “You’ve got a sassy mouth on you, Willa Simms. Are all American women like you?”
“I don’t know,” she said, willing her racing heart to slow down. “Are all Aussie men dark and brooding and wild?”
He grinned at her again. “They’d like to think so. But most of them are like my brothers, upstanding citizens and all-around good guys.”
“Don’t you belong in that category, too?” she asked.
His grin disappeared. “No one is ever going to call me an upstanding citizen, let alone a good guy.”
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I think you’re a pretty good guy.”
He didn’t answer, but she knew he had heard her, because his shoulders tightened. After a long time, he said, “Don’t wear those rose-colored glasses when you look at me, Willa. I’m not one of the good guys.”
“If you weren’t one of the good guys, you wouldn’t be here with me.”
“I’m here with you precisely because I’m not a good guy. Why do you think Ryan asked me to check on you and look at your security system? It was because I know far more than any good guy ever will about the bad things that can happen to people.”
“I’ve heard the rumors about what you do for a living. Are they true?”
He turned to give her a smile, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in the grim curve of his lips. “I’m sure none of them are true. People like you and the Fortunes can’t imagine the kind of things I do. You’re all far too nice to visualize my world.”
“If that’s true, it just makes you more willing than most of us to do what needs to be done. And makes you more of a good guy than I thought.”
He shook his head, weariness in his eyes. “Don’t be naive, Willa. No one does what I do, day after day, year after year, without having it stain his soul. Believe me, there’s nothing noble about what I do. And not even your American optimism can make it so.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Griff,” she answered quietly. “And don’t even bother trying to convince me that you’re the devil incarnate. It won’t work.”
“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug, turning away from her and walking more quickly up the trail. “But don’t be surprised when your pet dog turns and bites you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me,” she said, hurrying to keep up with him. “And nothing you can say will make me believe that you would.”
He didn’t answer, and they hiked in silence for a while, walking steadily uphill. Willa realized she was beginning to gasp for breath. They weren’t that high—the mountains around El Paso ranged from 4,000 to about 7,000 feet. But for someone used to living at close to sea level, that was a big difference.
She was just about to ask Griff to slow down, when they reached the top of the hill. Griff stood in front of her for a moment, turning slowly to take in the view, then he looked at her.
“Pretty spectacular,” he said, his voice impersonal. It was as if their conversation of a few minutes ago had never taken place.
“It’s magnificent.” She turned slowly, ignoring Griff, just drinking in the sight. Miles and miles of Texas and Mexico unfolded in front of them, mountain peaks rising, purple and red, from the barren-looking, dun-colored desert, which was only interrupted by scattered patches of dark green. “It’s certainly worth the hike.”
She turned and peered down in the direction of the cabin. “Look, you can barely see the cabin. It almost looks swallowed by the trees around it.”
“Are you feeling all right?” he asked gruffly.
She looked over at him with surprise. “I’m fine. Why?”
“I should have gone more slowly up this last part of the trail. You can’t be used to hiking at this altitude.”
“I’m fine,” she said again, vowing she wouldn’t say anything that would give away the fact that a headache was beginning to throb beneath her temples. She was tired of feeling like an invalid. She’d only gotten a small bump on the head, for crying out loud. Griff was acting as if she’d practically been bludgeoned senseless.
“Let’s sit down and eat something.”
Her stomach rolled once at the thought of food, but she sat down. “I didn’t realize you’d put anything into that pack of yours.”
“I didn’t. I always carry some nuts or candy and water in my pack.” He stared at her with a challenge in his eyes. “I never know when I’ll get stuck in a tight spot and need it.”
“Thank goodness for that. I’m getting a little thirsty.”
He passed her water in a plastic bottle, and she drank it down. Setting the empty bottle on the rock beside her, she looked at it, amazed. “I didn’t realize I was that thirsty.”
“This altitude can dehydrate you pretty quickly.” His gaze searched her face. “Are you light-headed at all?”
“Not a bit,” she lied. In fact, her head was beginning to feel detached from her body. “If I sit here for a few minutes and catch my breath, I’ll be ready to start back down the trail.”
Griff tried to hand her a candy bar, but she shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
He gave her a searching look, but didn’t say anything. Eating his own candy bar slowly, he drank some of his water, then passed her the bottle.
She eyed it longingly, but shook her head. “I’ve had my fill.” She wasn’t about to take water away from Griff. He was bigger than she was, and he undoubtedly needed more.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” she said firmly. It wouldn’t take nearly as long to get back down the mountain. Then she could have as much water as she wanted.
They sat quietly for a while, and eventually her breathing sounded less raspy and strained. Her head still ached, but she was determined to ignore it. When Griff said, “Ready to go?” she nodded.
Griff led the way again, and she followed him down the trail. Her shoes caught on a loose rock, and she slid for a foot or so. Catching herself on a boulder alongside the trail, she looked up to find Griff beside her.
“Are you all right?”
“I just slipped on a rock,” she said, holding onto him as the world spun slowly around her. “I’ll watch where I’m going.”
He stood and looked at her, and she could see the worry in his eyes. “I think we came too far up,” he said finally.
“Don’t be silly,” she replied, standing and pulling her jacket more tightly around her waist. “I’m fine.”
But as she bega
n to walk again, they rounded a turn in the trail. Instead of following the curve, she stepped off the edge of the trail—and into the air.
Five
Griff heard the clatter of rocks behind him and was spinning around even before he heard Willa’s high-pitched, terrified scream. She tumbled over the edge of the trail and seemed to fall in slow motion away from him. He grabbed for her arm, and fell onto the rocks, but she was gone before he could catch her.
“Willa?” he called, holding his breath to hear her voice.
“I’m okay, I think.” Her voice came from below him, and although it was shaky, it sounded damn wonderful.
Afraid that the edge of the trail had crumbled and broken off, he wriggled over to the drop-off on his stomach. Willa had landed on a small ledge about ten feet below him. She sat there, a bewildered look on her face, and stared up at him.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice sharp.
“I don’t think so.” He could see her move her legs and feet. “Everything seems to be working.”
“What happened? Did the rock crumble on the trail?”
She shifted her gaze away from him. “I don’t think so.”
“Then how did you fall?”
“I just fell,” she said, but she still wouldn’t look up at him.
“Willa, something’s wrong.” His voice sharpened even more, and he swung his leg over the side of the small cliff. “I’m coming down there.”
“Don’t,” she said, finally looking at him. “I know what’s wrong. I let myself get light-headed and dizzy from the altitude and didn’t say anything to you. Okay? Are you satisfied?”
Her voice sounded belligerent, but he could see the flags of color on her cheeks and the embarrassment in her eyes, even from this distance.
“All right,” he said, and made his voice soothing. “Let’s not worry about why it happened. Let’s get you off that little ledge.”
To Love and Protect Her Page 6