He opened his pack to remove the small coil of rope he stored there, praying that it would be strong enough to lift Willa. He didn’t like the look of that small outcropping of rock. The rock around him was soft and crumbling, and all he could see in his mind’s eye was the ledge giving way and Willa falling endlessly away from him.
The rope was just long enough to reach to the ledge and Willa. “Can you tie this around your waist?” he called, keeping his voice calm and even.
“I think so.”
“Do you know how to tie a bowline knot?”
“No.” She looked up at him. “But if you talk me through it, I’m sure I could learn.”
They didn’t have time for Willa to learn how to tie the complicated knot. As she shifted on the ledge to loop the rope around her waist, a small piece of the rock flaked off and fell. It was a long time before he heard it hit on the boulders below.
“Don’t worry about it. Just tie a square knot. You can do that, can’t you?”
“I’m not an idiot,” she snapped, and he relaxed slightly. If she could snap at him, she couldn’t be hurt too badly.
“All right,” she called after a few moments. “I’ve got the rope tied.”
Griff tied the other end around his own waist, then looked around for something to use to brace himself. There was a tiny mesquite bush on the other side of the trail. It was pitifully small, but it would have to do. Wrapping his legs around the thin trunk, he pulled up the slack in the rope.
“I’m going to pull you slowly up the side of the cliff,” he called to Willa. “All you need to do is walk up the rocks. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she called. He heard the fear in her voice.
“Let me know when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
He began to pull, slowly but steadily. The rope vibrated in his hands as Willa banged against the rocks. He could hear her panting and cursing under her breath, but she didn’t ask him to stop, didn’t beg for him to go more slowly. She just kept scrabbling against the rocks as he pulled her upward.
When he saw the top of her head at the edge of the cliff, he gave a hard pull, and she slid over the edge. She lay face down on the trail and didn’t move.
His heart pounding in his chest, he untangled himself from the mesquite bush and scrambled to get to her. Had she hurt herself on the ascent? Had she banged her head again?
Just as he reached her, she turned her head and gave him a wobbly smile. “Nice job, Fortune.”
“My God, Willa. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head and gathered herself to sit up. “Only my pride.”
He couldn’t stop himself. Before he could think about what he was doing, before he could tell himself to be smart, he’d snatched her up into his arms and pulled her against him.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her hair, holding her more tightly.
She pulled away far enough to look at him. “What on earth are you sorry for?”
“For taking you up this damn mountain. I knew you’d had a knock on the head yesterday. I should have kept you in the cabin.”
“The fact that I fell off the cliff was not your fault,” she said firmly. “It’s my own stupidity and pride that are to blame. I’m the one who ignored the symptoms of altitude sickness and insisted on going on. I was feeling light-headed even before we got to the top of the mountain. So don’t blame yourself.”
He couldn’t let her go, not yet. “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling light-headed? Why didn’t you tell me you needed to go back?”
“Because I didn’t want you to think I was a weak, needy woman,” she said, and the disgust in her voice almost made him smile. “Because I thought I could tough it out until we got back to the cabin. Instead, I endangered us both.”
He pulled her against him again, and instead of trying to get away, she snuggled closer. “I don’t think of you as a weak and needy woman. In fact, you’re so strong that you terrify me. I’m not sure you need me at all. I think you can do anything you set your mind to, Willa.”
“I wish that were true,” she murmured against his chest.
“Tell me one thing you want to do that you can’t do,” he demanded.
When she didn’t answer, he looked down at her. She looked steadily back, although the red flags were waving in her cheeks again. And beneath the embarrassment, he saw need in her eyes. Need for him, he realized, and he felt as if he’d taken a gut punch.
“What is it that you want to do?” he whispered. He knew he should back away, knew he should let go of her, but he couldn’t do it.
He didn’t think she was going to answer, but she leaned closer to him. “I want to kiss you,” she said, her voice soft as the delicate breeze that caressed his face.
He held her gaze steadily as she leaned closer to him. Her face flamed, but she didn’t stop. When she brushed his mouth with hers, his whole body clenched with desire.
She would have backed away after that one slight touch of her mouth, but he wouldn’t let her go. Framing her face with his hands, he took her mouth again. This time, he wanted to taste her. This time, he wanted to feel her need growing inside her, to know that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. This time, he wanted to wrap himself around her and hold on tight.
He was making a mistake, a distant voice tried to warn him. He was going down a path he would regret taking, making choices that would come back to haunt him, but he didn’t care. His need for Willa had been growing since the first time he’d seen her, and the last two days with her had only intensified his desire. The kiss they’d shared the night before had only made it worse. Now he knew what she tasted like, what she felt like.
He plunged into her, ravaging her mouth, letting the sweetness of her seep into him and fill him. Willa was everything good, everything sweet and pure. She was everything that was missing from his life. And in his desperation to taste more of her, to take more of her, he pressed her back onto the ground and held her head steady with his hand while he plundered her mouth.
“Griff,” she gasped, clutching the sleeves of his shirt.
He jerked as if she’d hit him. She should have, he told himself savagely. He’d been on her like a rutting beast. But when he tried to ease away from her, she wouldn’t let him. Her arms curled around his neck, and she pulled him back down to her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, and he felt as if someone had cracked his heart wide open. “Kiss me again, Griff.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he managed to say.
Her lashes fluttered open, and her blue-gray eyes were unfocused and smoky with desire. “Then show me,” she said.
He groaned and pulled her close again. It was just the fear, he told himself. That was why he couldn’t resist her. She’d scared him half to death. He’d thought she had fallen to her death, and kissing her was just a reaction.
But it felt like a whole lot more than a reaction. It felt as if he’d come home, as if he’d finally found the place where he belonged. He didn’t want to let Willa go, and when he finally realized that, he eased her away from him and let his arms drop to his sides.
“We need to get back to the cabin,” he said, his voice still hoarse with desire. “You took a nasty fall.”
He heard her make a small sound of denial in the back of her throat, and that instinctive protest almost did him in. He almost reached for her again, but instead he moved far enough away that he couldn’t touch her.
“Do you think you can stand?” he asked.
She opened her eyes slowly and looked at him. The flush of passion was still on her face, and her eyes were dreamy and soft. Griff looked away before he could grab her again. Willa wasn’t for him. Passion might arc between them, but that was all it could ever be. And Willa wasn’t the kind of woman who indulged in casual affairs. Willa was a happily-ever-after kind of woman. She was the kind of woman he always avoided.
“Do you want me to carry you back to the cabin?”
he asked, hoping her answer would be no. He couldn’t afford to touch her right now. If he did, all his good intentions would vanish like smoke in the air.
She managed to shake her head. A part of him regretted it, but as he watched her eyes clear, he told himself it was the right thing to do.
“I can walk,” she said.
“I’m going to help you up,” he said carefully. “Ready?”
She started to get to her feet, putting one hand out to brace herself. When she winced, he slid his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet. He let her go so quickly that she stumbled.
“What’s wrong with your hand? It’s bleeding.”
She glanced down at it, then clenched her fingers in her palm. “Nothing. I just scraped it on the rocks, I guess.”
“We need to get you back down to the cabin,” he said, and he knew his voice was rough. “Are you sure you can walk?”
“I’m sure.” Her voice was stronger, and the dreaminess had faded from her eyes. Now they looked at him with a cool assurance. “I promise I’ll tell you if I’m feeling light-headed again.”
He could see the hurt lingering beneath the cool look, and he cursed himself for losing control, for putting that look in her eyes. “Are you upset that I kissed you, or upset that I stopped?”
“What makes you think I’m upset at all?” This time there was frost in her voice.
“You’re not that hard to read, Willa.”
“Really? In that case, read this.” She pushed past him and began walking down the path in the direction of the cabin.
He watched her for a moment, surprised and awed at the strength of her will, then scrambled to catch up with her.
“Why don’t we take a break?” he said gently. “You need a chance to settle down after your fall.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from touching her.
“I feel fine.” She kept walking.
“I know you’re tough, Willa. I know you can make it back to the cabin on your own. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
Finally she stopped and turned to look at him. “I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m ashamed of myself, and that’s why I want to get back to the cabin. I know I should have told you that I was having problems. I’m sorry that I endangered you, too. All right?” Her words were formal and distant.
“It’s okay, Willa.” He reached out to bridge the distance, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I understand. And it’s not as if I’ve never done anything foolish. Don’t worry about it.”
For just a moment, she pressed her face into his hand. But before he could react, she stepped away from him. He ached to reach out and touch her again, so he made a fist and shoved it behind his back. “Sit down for a moment. I never had a chance to make sure you weren’t hurt after your fall.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m not hurt. I sure wasn’t too worried about it after you rescued me.” She lifted her head and stared at him, and beneath the defiance he could see that the emotional hurt still lingered. “I’m sorry I asked you to kiss me. It won’t happen again.”
“You think that bothered me?”
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Clearly it did, since you were in such a hurry to get away from me. Don’t worry, Griff. I know how you feel, and I’ll respect that.”
“You have no idea how I feel,” he muttered.
“I think I do.” She turned away and started down the path again. “I’ve had enough of a break. Let’s get back to the cabin.”
Willa walked down the trail, too conscious of Griff right behind her. He was so close that she could smell the faint tang of his soap, feel the heat that radiated from his body.
He was staying so close merely because he was worried about her. And that was her own fault. She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been, and how irresponsible. She’d fallen off the edge of the mountain because she’d been too proud to admit her weakness.
She deserved every single one of the bumps and bruises that she was already feeling, she thought. Her hands burned where she’d scraped them against the rocks while she scrabbled to get up the cliff. Her hip ached, her head still hurt and her shoulders felt as if she’d been tackled repeatedly. But she had no right to whine.
When they got back to the cabin, she’d lock herself in the bedroom and soak in the tub for a year or so—after she drank about a gallon of water.
“We’re almost there.” His voice came from right behind her, and he touched her arm. She froze.
“Can you hold on for a moment? I want to get another look at the cabin before we go back down.”
She sank down onto a rock and watched as he used a pair of binoculars to study the cabin and its surroundings. Finally she asked, “How could you tell if there was something wrong from all the way up here?”
He gave her a sharp look. “How do you know I’m looking for something wrong?”
“Please, Griff,” she said wearily. “Give me a little credit.”
His face softened. “I give you a lot of credit, Willa. I’m just finding it a little uncanny how you’re able to read me.”
“You’re not that hard to read, Griff,” she said, quoting his words back to him.
He gave her a reluctant smile. “I deserved that, I guess. I’m not used to having someone know in advance what I’m doing.”
“It’s just the circumstances,” she said hurriedly. God forbid he think she was making a connection with him again. “We’re thrown together, and it’s hard not to notice your patterns.”
“I was hoping I didn’t have any patterns,” he said, clamping his mouth shut and staring at the cabin again.
“Everyone does,” she said. “They’re just more noticeable in some people.”
“Now you’re telling me I’m obvious?” His reluctant smile took the sting out of his words.
She shook her head. “Not at all. But since my life apparently depends on you, I have a lot of incentive to figure out what you’re doing.”
“I didn’t realize you were so observant.” He kept his gaze on the cabin, but she felt his attention focused on her.
She shrugged. “It was because of the way I grew up, I guess. Since my father was in the military we moved around a lot. I learned early to watch everything. I had to make new friends all the time. It’s easier to fit in if you pay attention to the people around you.”
“I’ll remember that,” he murmured. He squatted down next to her. “You ready to start walking again?”
“I’m fine. I thought we stopped because you wanted to check out the cabin.”
“That was part of it. The other part was to give you a chance to rest. You’ve got to be pretty sore after that fall.”
“I can make it back to the cabin just fine,” she said, trying not to wince as she stood. “Does everything look clear at the cabin?”
“Everything looks just the way we left it. I’ll know better when we get closer.”
They only had a few hundred feet to go, and she felt herself slipping on the loose rocks on the trail. Griff took her arm to steady her, but let her go as soon as they reached the trees that surrounded the cabin.
“I want you to stay here,” he said in a low voice. “Stay hidden behind the trees. Don’t come out until I come to get you.”
“All right.”
He stared at her, then touched her cheek, almost as if he couldn’t help himself. “If you hear anything that makes you uneasy, or if I don’t come right back, stay here. If someone besides me comes looking for you, run back up the mountain. Don’t go near the truck until you’re sure it’s safe. The keys are behind the front left tire. Drive away, and don’t stop until you get to a police station in El Paso. Go inside and call Ryan.”
“I’m not going to leave you here.”
“If someone besides me comes looking for you, there’s nothing you can do for me, anyway.”
She must have looked horrified, because he gave her a tiny grin. “That’s what’s called a worst-case scenar
io, Blue. Nobody’s found us, and there’s going to be nothing wrong at the cabin. But you need to know what to do, just in case.”
“I can see that worst-case scenarios are part of your pattern,” she said tartly, to hide the fear that had swamped her. “Are you always so optimistic?”
“Every day of my life.” His voice was cheerful. “That’s why I’m still alive to talk about it.” His hand closed over her shoulder, and he gave her a squeeze. “I’ll be right back. Just sit tight for a few minutes.”
He disappeared quickly and noiselessly, vanishing into the trees. Griff would be a formidable opponent, she thought to herself. And a dangerous one.
He was already proving dangerous to her heart, and to the careful plans she’d made. Since Griff had rescued her two days ago, everything else had seemed distant and irrelevant, including her teaching job in College Station and the tidy life she’d planned for herself.
The life that your father planned for you, a tiny voice reminded her.
It was what she wanted, too. Wasn’t it?
She pushed the niggling doubt away. She’d worked too hard, for too long, to get this job at the university. Of course it was what she wanted! And Griff wouldn’t fit in.
Before she could continue with that line of thinking, he reappeared in front of her. “Everything is clear,” he said, no longer talking in the muted whisper he’d used earlier. “None of my traps was disturbed. No one’s been around. No one’s even been close to the cabin.”
“Great.” She headed for the cabin. Griff walked along next to her. The watchful tension that had surrounded him when they’d entered the trees had vanished. Once again, he seemed at ease and relaxed.
As soon as they were inside, she poured herself a glass of water and drank it all, then poured another one. When she’d finished about half of it, she set the glass on the counter. “Much better.”
Griff watched her with concern in his eyes. “How’s your headache?”
She shrugged. “It’s still there. I’m sure it’ll go away soon.”
“I’ll get you some aspirin.”
She nodded. “Thanks. I’m going to take a bath. I’ll see you later.”
To Love and Protect Her Page 7