by Katie Ruggle
With both arms mobile, she managed to drag her body forward. Her right knee throbbed when she bent it, so she used her forearms and her left knee to wiggle out from under the branch. She was almost free when the weight on her legs disappeared. Turning her head, she saw Derek holding up the branch. From her position, he looked obnoxiously superhero-like, and she scrunched her nose.
“What was that face?” he complained. “I rescue you and that’s my reward?”
Artie scooted the rest of the way clear, and he let it drop. “You know I hate to be rescued.”
He laughed, offering a hand to help her stand. “I remember. You always refused to be the damsel in distress when we played together as kids.”
“So did you.” Her knee protested when she climbed to her feet, and she clung to his hand a second too long. Derek lost his smile, eyeing her intently, and she started talking to distract him from her wobble. “It’s no fun to wait for the hero to swoop in and save me. I wanted to be part of the action.”
“What’s wrong? Is it your bad knee?” Obviously, her efforts at diverting his attention from her injury hadn’t worked.
“I’m fine. I just need to walk it off.” She looked past him to where the branch was lying on the ground. “Whoa. It’s good that thing just nicked us. That’s as big as a good-size tree.”
Derek was digging in his pack. Before they’d started searching, Rob had handed out backpacks with basic survival gear—a first-aid kit, matches, an emergency blanket, flares, water, energy bars, and flashlights. After a brief tug-of-war, Artie had given in and let Derek carry the pack. It hadn’t been worth spending time arguing about it, not with the girls missing.
Pulling out the first-aid kit, Derek opened it and extracted some gauze squares. As she accepted them, she gave him a confused look.
“Your nose is bleeding,” he said, and she remembered the wetness on her face earlier, and the metallic taste.
Artie dabbed under her nose. The flow seemed to have stopped, so she wiped up the remaining blood and tucked the soiled gauze into her pocket.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Sure you’re okay to walk back?” he asked.
The thought of hiking to base made her want to bawl like a baby, but she straightened her aching shoulders instead. “Of course. Let’s go.”
“Hang on a second. Let me tell Rob we’ll take a little longer to get back than expected.” After shouldering the pack, Derek reached for something at his side…then frowned. “Shit. The radio must’ve been knocked off my belt. Do you see it?”
They both started searching the area around where they’d been laid flat, and Artie made a conscious effort not to limp. By the way her knee was refusing to bend, it was already starting to swell. If she’d been at home, she could’ve elevated it and iced it, but now she just had to deal with it. The wind was cold enough to act as an ice pack, at least, although Artie was pretty sure that wouldn’t be helpful.
“This is one time when more snow would’ve been useful,” Artie said, her eyes sweeping the ground. The earlier icy snowfall had stopped before much had accumulated. Before Derek could reply, she finally spotted the black rectangle. “Found it!”
Derek swept it up and then swore a few seconds later.
“Broken?” she guessed, watching as he turned it off and on a few times.
“Broken.” After messing with it for a couple of minutes, he tucked the still-nonfunctional radio into his pack and turned to Artie. “Are you going to be able to make it to base camp?”
“Didn’t we already cover this?” she snapped, trying to disguise her own doubts. There was no way she was going to make Derek carry her back to safety like some pampered princess. She was going to get there on her own steam, even if her leg fell off.
Instead of taking offense, Derek grinned at her. “Okay, my feisty goddess. Lead the way, then.” He gestured toward what used to be the trail.
“Uh…this way isn’t going to work.” A cliff on one side, heavy brush on the other, and the huge fallen limb in front of them blocked the way as cleanly as a barred door. “We’re going to need to drop south to go around this.”
After eyeing the downed, tree-size branch, he nodded. “You’re right. It’ll definitely be easier going around than through. I knew there was a reason I picked you as my partner.”
Her snort was covered by another blast of wind.
* * *
Even as it grew closer to full dark, Derek still couldn’t stop looking at her. After being reminded what her lips felt like against his, all those feelings he’d shoved into a mental drawer four years earlier came rushing back. His love for her filled his chest, blocking out the cold and making it impossible to keep the grin off his face.
It was worse now that she was pretending not to limp, reminding him of the stubborn, competitive girl with whom he’d shared the majority of his childhood and college years. Apparently, she hadn’t changed much. After hearing how possessive and controlling that asshole Randy had turned out to be, it shocked him that she’d put up with him for so long.
“Let me carry you.”
Artie didn’t even turn around when she answered. “No.”
“Stubborn,” he muttered, although the corners of his lips curled, once again, into a smile. As much as he wished she’d accept his help, he loved her mule-headedness. Pulling his gaze from her profile, Derek reminded himself that they still needed to get back to base. There’d be plenty of time to admire Artie later, especially since they were back together. The thought boggled his mind. After all those years of frustrated longing, he finally, finally, got to keep her. His jaw firmed. This time she’d be safe with him. He’d make sure of that.
As he strode through the gathering darkness, passing the remains of their temporary shelter again, he stayed alert. The newly formed boot print, and the cigarette butts and incendiary supplies in the cabin made him uneasy. He scanned the trees for movement, but the shadowed near-darkness could hide anything—or anyone—that didn’t want to be seen. His ears strained to pick up the snap of a twig or the scrape of pine needles against a moving body, but the wind covered any other sound.
Snow began to fall again, but it wasn’t the fluffy, soft flakes shown at the end of Christmas movies. Instead, icy pellets stung his exposed skin, and he tugged his hat lower to protect the back of his neck.
Their shift to the south had been an uphill slog, and now they were following the side of a ridge. Their vantage point allowed them to see farther than they could on the way out, and Derek took advantage of the openness, scanning the area for any flash of color or movement. He realized that he wasn’t just squinting to keep the stinging snowflakes out of his eyes. The storm had hurried the day along, and it was almost dark.
“Hold up!” he called to Artie, and she turned around, looking relieved to be able to put her back to the brutal wind for a minute. He pulled two flashlights out of his pack and handed her one.
“Thanks.” Flicking on the light, she aimed the beam at the ground. “I didn’t realize how dark it’d gotten.”
He turned on his own light, following Artie as she started walking east along the ridge again, swinging her bad leg ever so slightly to the side with each stride. If he hadn’t been watching for it, he would’ve missed her tiny limp. He was tempted to sling her over his shoulder, despite her protests, but he knew she’d much rather take care of herself. Clenching his free hand into a fist to keep from picking her up, he concentrated on the dark path ahead.
With a yelp, she started to fall, and Derek leaped forward, catching the back of her coat just before her body hit the ground. He hauled her to her feet, turned her around, and lifted her in a fireman’s carry. Except for a grunt, she didn’t protest, which meant her knee was really hurting.
Pivoting, he turned back the way they’d just come.
“Where are you going?” Artie asked.
“Back to the cabin. Once the storm dies down again and you rest your knee for a while, we’ll try again.”
“Okay.”
He blinked. He’d been braced for a fight, but Artie had managed to surprise him yet again. Grinning, he gave her legs another squeeze, this one affectionate. Life with Artemis Rey would never be boring.
Even with his slow pace from carrying Artie, the cabin came back into view quickly. It was a little disheartening to know just how short of a distance they’d covered, but Derek didn’t say anything out loud. From Artie’s uncharacteristic silence, he knew she was in a lot of pain, and she didn’t need his Gloomy Gus comments bringing her down.
“Home, sweet home,” he said grimly, carefully maneuvering through the doorway so none of Artie’s parts bumped the wood.
Although she laughed, it sounded like she was gritting her teeth. “I was thinking fond thoughts about this place when we left it, but I have to admit I’m not too excited to be back.”
“Yeah, me either.” Carefully easing her off his shoulder, he helped her sit on the floor and then grabbed an old piece of four-by-four wood that he propped under her outstretched leg to elevate it.
“Thanks.” Her expression was flat, and he recognized the look from when she’d been eight and had fallen while trying to climb a six-foot fence. It was Artie’s attempting-not-to-cry face, and it made him frantic. Ripping off his gloves, he dug through the pack and pulled out the first-aid kit. Frowning at the frozen water bottles, he returned them to the pack.
“Here. Take these.” He held out a couple of over-the-counter painkillers. After removing her own gloves, she held out a shaking hand for the pills. As she dry-swallowed the tablets, he eyed her face, not liking the pale undertone of her naturally tan complexion. Derek wondered if she was going into shock or was just cold and tired. Either way, he need to warm her.
Yanking out the emergency blanket, he eased behind her, lifting Artie on his lap without dislodging her leg from the supporting piece of wood. As he opened the blanket and wrapped it around both of them, she settled against his chest with a silent sigh. Alarmed at her atypical docility, he wrapped his arms around her under the blanket, pulling her as close as possible.
He felt her shivering and released her to unzip his jacket and then hers. Artie grabbed his hands, stopping them.
“Hey! I need that,” she protested through chattering teeth. “Unless we could build a fire?”
“I’m just rearranging things,” he said, “so you can take advantage of my incredible hotness. And no fire. Not with all this dry wood and the firebug’s box of accelerants.”
As she made a disappointed sound, he slid her coat off her arms and quickly moved it around to her front, wrapping it around her like a reversed cape. When she leaned her back against his chest, their bodies now separated only by a few thin layers, she gave a purr of contentment. The sound was so unintentionally sexy that he had to close his eyes and take a couple of deep breaths to get his body under control.
“Not to feed your ego,” she said, apparently unaware of what she was doing to him, “but you really are incredibly hot.”
His laugh was rough around the edges as he rearranged the emergency blanket to cover them. “Told you.”
By the time he snaked his arms around her waist under her draped coat, Artie had stopped shivering. They both fell silent as she rested against him, finally getting warm again in their nest of coats and blanket and body heat. Derek realized his palms had flattened against her belly and one of his fingers just brushed her bare skin where the hem of her shirt had bunched. As if his hands had a life of their own, they slid a little lower, until that fingertip had slipped under the waistband of her jeans.
“Derek,” she breathed, and it clearly wasn’t a protest.
As his hands rubbed up and down her stomach, slipping farther in each direction with every pass, she tilted her face toward him. In the indirect light from the flashlight lying next to them, he could see the kaleidoscope of emotions playing across her face. There was so much love and longing in her expression that he couldn’t breathe for a long second. Moving one hand from her stomach so he could cup her cheek, he lowered his mouth to hers.
As soon as they touched, it was as if a match had been tossed in the bag of flammables sharing the cabin with them. He couldn’t kiss her deeply enough, couldn’t touch her enough. The truth finally sank in, striking him hard—she was actually his again. Artie—gorgeous, smart, funny, sexy-as-hell Artemis Rey—was in his arms and, from the way she squirmed and moaned under his touch, she wanted him.
The knowledge triggered an inferno that blazed through his body. His mouth met hers with bruising force, and she kissed him back just as hard. Their tongues battled for dominance, and their teeth nipped and pulled. Derek loved it. It was her bossy side coming out to play, and nothing turned him on more than when she showed just how strong and fierce she truly was.
Needing to touch her, he slid one hand under her shirt, brushing her soft, soft skin until he cupped her breast through her bra. The sound she made against his lips vibrated through him, making his hips lift and press against her. His fingers tugged the fabric down, desperately wanting to really feel her, skin to skin.
Her teeth sank almost painfully into his bottom lip as his thumb strummed her rigid nipple, and she moaned her approval into his mouth. He repeated the move, loving how sensitive she was, how quickly his touch excited her. Freeing her other breast, he divided his attention between her perfect chest and her just-as-perfect mouth.
Touching her, kissing her, feeling her respond—it was all driving him crazy. He’d never been so hard and, at the same time, so focused on someone else. It didn’t matter if he got off or not—this was all about Artie. He’d waited too long to have her in his arms again, and he was determined to make her so happy that she never wanted to leave.
This is Artie, he thought, amazed and exhilarated. All his memories and dreams of her were nothing compared to the reality of actually holding her, both of them shaking from arousal instead of the cold. His other hand unbuttoned her pants and worked beneath the layers of fabric, until his fingers found her wet and so, so warm.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he buried his face in the side of her neck, breathing hard. The feel of her was destroying his control, and he fought to get it back, even as his fingers slid into her. Her body tightened around him, and he groaned, closing his teeth gently on her shoulder. Giving her pleasure was more arousing to him than actual sex with anyone else.
He tried to ignore the desperate need coursing through his body as he lightly circled and stroked, his fingers effortlessly remembering what she liked best. Clenching his teeth as he tried to cling to his control, he lifted his head so he could watch her face. He was rock hard and hurting, but it didn’t change his focus. Her hips lifted toward his hand, and she made those soft sounds that drove him wild. He moved his hand faster, drove his fingers deeper, until her gasps and cries filled his ears. Her body arched and shuddered as she came, so beautiful in the dim light that he couldn’t look away.
His fingers slowed as her body softened and her breathing grew more even. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hands, although he kept his arms wrapped around her. Letting her go was not an option. Never again.
“Your name fits you,” he said quietly when she finally slumped, boneless, against his chest. “You really are a goddess.”
Her reply was a sleepy chuckle. “It doesn’t really fit anymore.”
“Why not?” He straightened her clothes and rearranged the coats and blankets to cover them.
“Artemis was the virgin goddess,” she explained in a yawn, making him laugh. Her eyelids started to droop, but then she straightened. “Wait. What about you?”
“What about me? I’m no virgin goddess either.”
She snorted, blushing at the same time. “That’s for sure. I meant that you didn’t…” She gestured in the general vicinity of his aching lap.
“What?” he teased. “Don’t tell me your extensive vocabulary is failing you?”
“Stop it.” She tried to swat at him, but the muffling layers of coats and the blanket thwarted her efforts. “You know what I mean. You didn’t get to come.”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
Shifting uncomfortably, he amended, “I’ll be fine. I wanted this to be about you. Quit worrying and take a nap. I’ll wake you once the storm lightens up.”
“Okay,” she grumbled, settling back against his chest. “But I’m keeping track. There’s a sticky note in my brain that says, ‘I owe Derek one happy ending.’”
He laughed. “I’m definitely collecting on that. Now sleep.”
Without any further argument, she closed her eyes and almost instantly went limp. Then, he just held her, loving that he could.
* * *
All of this—Chase falling through the ice, running off, getting lost—was her fault. Zoe tightened her arms around Maya, knowing that it wouldn’t help, that it wouldn’t make them be warm or safe at home. She was a bad sister. Now it was getting dark. Although she hated to admit it, Zoe was terrified of the dark.
Her seat was numb under her jeans, thanks to the cold rock under her. Even though she’d always been told to stay in one spot if she got lost, she knew there was no way they could be seen where they were. When the wind had really started raging, Maya had almost been blown off the edge of a ledge. Zoe knew they couldn’t keep walking, so they’d wedged themselves into a hidden spot between two large boulders. Now, though, it sounded as if the wind had died down a little.
“Maya.” When her little sister didn’t respond, Zoe jostled her lightly. “C’mon. We have to move.”