Proving Ground
Page 15
They were alive. And together.
Mac stopped fighting temptation and gathered Caitlin closer to him until they felt inseparable—as one—the way it should be.
His chest expanded in a deep sigh, and he lifted his chin off her head. He ventured a glance at her face. Her golden eyes had darkened to a glowing amber. He couldn’t name the emotion he saw there. Fear. Relief. Desire. They stared at each other, unblinking. Unyielding. She met his mouth halfway as it descended.
His kiss was firm, yet gentle. Dramatically different from the angry kiss two years ago that had spiraled into a tangle of desire.
His lips brushed hers in reverent strokes. Tender, tantalizing, and wrong.
When he lifted his head, she tightened her hold. “Please,” she whispered.
Mac released her, but only to capture her face between his hands. She strained to her toes, and braced her palms against his shoulders. His muscles quivered under her touch and, for an instant, the world stopped. As Mac claimed her mouth again, the sun broke over the mountains.
This time, his kiss was urgent, and she matched his fervor, allowing his tongue to consort with hers. His stomach dropped. His sudden shortness of breath owed nothing to the high altitude or even the exertion of the climb.
Kissing her was wrong. Wanting her as much as he did was completely out of the question. Yet, holding her in his arms at this very moment, there was nothing in the entire world he needed more. It was right and good.
Time slowed and then stopped. All urgency for survival whisked away on the wind that swirled around them. Only Caitlin existed. Nothing else mattered.
Mac succumbed to the hunger that had been building from the moment he’d seen her in the clearing. No, that wasn’t entirely true. His desire had reignited the moment she’d met him at the door with her father’s shotgun.
She ate at his mouth. Nipping, then sucking his lower lip. Sending erotic messages through his gut and lower. He released her face and pulled her against him. Wanting her to feel his need. Urging her to complete him.
A moan started deep in her throat. The vibrations rocketed through his chest, and he clutched her tighter.
Then she winced.
Reluctantly, he broke off the kiss. “Cait?” His breathing was ragged, choked with yearning he couldn’t fulfill.
She moaned again. This time he realized the sound was not sensual, but painful.
He relaxed his hold, but didn’t let go completely. She collapsed against him. “Caitlin. Caitlin!” He lowered her to the ground. “What’s wrong?”
****
“I’m sorry.” She bit down on the pain that jolted through her, stealing away the passionate moment forever. She’d waited a lifetime for Mac to kiss her like that. Even though the kiss was over, blood still sang in her veins. A joyful song. Wild and untamed as the forest. With Mac she was complete. Finally, at home where she belonged. Just when things were going right, his embrace had crushed her tender ribs.
“I should never have kissed—”
“No!” Caitlin pleaded with her eyes. “You can’t take it back.” Please, don’t take it back.
Mac swallowed.
Something shifted. Something changed. She couldn’t put a name on it, but his eyes softened, warmed when they looked into hers.
Whatever had happened was irreversible. She sighed and closed her eyes.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
She nodded and opened her eyes. “I’m tired.” She hated how weak her voice sounded. For the life of her, she couldn’t find more energy. She’d given everything she had to make the last few feet of that climb, and before she could catch her breath, Mac had stolen it with his kiss. If only she could recapture that magic again. “Can we rest for a while?”
Mac straightened and studied the mountaintops. His back was to the rising sun and Caitlin’s heart leapt as she admired his long, muscular body silhouetted against the sky. She rose to her elbows and followed the direction of his gaze.
Smoke hovered over the south side of the mountain range. Here, on the summit, it was difficult to tell which direction the wind was blowing. It seemed to come at them from all angles. She focused on the ridge and guessed their descent would be much easier than the treacherous climb up.
If only she wasn’t so exhausted. Surely, a couple of hours rest wouldn’t hurt. They had outrun the blaze and must be out of danger by now.
“I think we can take a short rest,” Mac said. “We’ll be better off on the downhill side, though. Once the sun starts warming the hilltop, there won’t be any protection from the heat.” He turned and reached out a hand. “How’s your ankle? Can you walk?”
Caitlin took his hand and carefully pulled herself up. “My ankle’s not bad. But my ribs are killing me.”
His grip tightened and his frown grew as dark as smoke. “Ribs?” His voice rose. “You never said anything about your ribs.”
She felt the flush of guilt creep up her neck. “There wasn’t anything you could’ve done,” she said. “We couldn’t have slowed down.”
Mac’s eyes glittered like black coal. He looked as though he wanted to throttle her. “When did you hurt your ribs? Did you fall before I found you?”
“No. I…he…”
“Who?”
“Dunn.” She attempted to free her hand, but he refused to let go.
Unceremoniously, Mac yanked her shirt free of her belt and lifted it up. Under different circumstances, she would have been thrilled for him to take such an interest in her body. At his inspection of her ribs, his chiseled jaw tightened. The quick intake of breath alerted her that what he’d found wasn’t pretty.
She found the nerve to glance down. Mottled colors of the rainbow decorated her left side. The imprint of Dunn’s boot showed clearly. No wonder her side hurt like it did.
“I think it’s time you told me what the hell happened between you and Dunn.” Mac ground out the words through clenched teeth.
Chapter Thirteen
A heated rage clouded Mac’s vision as he stared at the large bruise on Catlin’s pale skin. He normally wasn’t a violent man. He could count the times on one hand where his temper had gotten the better of him. But right now, on this mountaintop, all he wanted was to pound in somebody’s face for the hurt they’d caused the woman in front of him.
The blue and purple bruises melded with lighter greens and browns and covered nearly her entire left side. There was no way anyone could mistake the boot print for anything other than what it was. It hurt Mac just to look at it. What must it feel like?
He stared at her. “Well?” He couldn’t contain the harshness in his voice. “What happened?”
She studied the discolored skin and chewed on her lip. She didn’t disguise the uncertainty in her eyes, but didn’t shy away when she answered. “I told you. It was Dunn.”
“You told me that you and Dunn had a fight.” He cupped his palm along one of her sides. Heat radiated off the bruise. He was almost afraid to touch her. “You didn’t tell me he did this.”
“I told you he almost killed me. I’m pretty sure I would have died if it hadn’t been for—” She stopped.
“For what?”
“You’ll think I’m crazy.”
He clamped down on his impatience. “You are crazy for letting me drag you this far without so much as a peep.” Maybe staying mad would keep him from kissing the daylights out of her, but it wouldn’t help the situation. Caitlin was hurt. She had just completed a climb that would have left most of his crew whimpering. As much as he wanted to throttle her, it wouldn’t be fair to her and the courage she’d shown through this harrowing experience to vent his anger. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Can you walk a little farther?”
Her look of annoyance would have been comical under different circumstances. “I’ve come this far, what do you think?” She shuffled back and started to tuck her shirt into her belt.
“Don’t,” he said.
Caitlin glanced at him, looki
ng even more irritated. “Don’t what?”
“Leave your shirttail out. I’ll see what I can do about fixing your ribs once we’ve found a place to rest.” He lifted the backpack and slung it over one shoulder.
She shrugged and followed him over the gentle rise of the summit without protesting.
As mountain peaks went, this wasn’t much of one. It flattened out before making a curving descent on the other side. The way down wouldn’t involve any rock or cliff negotiation, but there would be places where the drop was steep and they’d have to use caution or they could take a header through brush and rock.
Mac’s first priority was to assess all of Caitlin’s injuries. Then he’d determine if they could keep hiking or should rest longer to give her a chance to recover some strength.
It took another five minutes to find a level spot in a grove of pines. The area was cool without direct sunlight, and offered a place to sit while he determined what to do next. He leaned his backpack against the trunk of pine.
“Take a seat.”
Caitlin’s lips tightened at his command, but she didn’t protest.
Though less satisfying, he found it easier to focus on her injuries instead of her inviting lips. Kissing her had been a mistake, one he hadn’t intended to repeat. His plan to stay detached and clear of temptation hadn’t worked. Since her return, their relationship had become antagonistic. He didn’t like it—had no clear idea how to confront the situation, and right now couldn’t take time for touchy-feely emotions to resolve it.
Caitlin slowly entered the grove and Mac noticed how carefully she lowered herself to the ground. She scooted against the trunk, leaned back and closed her eyes.
“It hurts pretty bad.” He wasn’t asking. He saw the pain stretched tautly across her face.
“Yes.” She closed her eyes.
“You’re too damn stubborn for your own good, you know that?” Mac knelt and grazed a knuckle over her cheek to take the sting out of his words. “What am I going to do with you?” he whispered.
“You have my gun. Just shoot me.” She opened her eyes. “That would put both of us out of our misery.”
He chuckled. “You know I don’t do guns. Besides, that’s taking the coward’s way out.”
Her eyes flared with a golden blaze. Not even the shade diminished the heat she blasted at him. “You should be so lucky.”
That was better. He smiled—glad to see her fight return. Caitlin might be beaten physically, but she was going to be okay. He sobered, thinking about her injury. “Let’s fix you up and then you can tell me exactly what happened.”
The glow in her eyes dimmed as he lifted the bottom of her shirt. He couldn’t help the tightening in his gut when he looked at the bruises on her side. “I’m going to have to touch it,” he said.
Her jaw tightened as she nodded and held the hem of her shirt away from her body to free both of his hands.
****
Caitlin knew Mac was trying to be gentle, but each probing finger sent torturous fireballs racing along her ribs and up her spine. She couldn’t stop her back from arching when he touched a spot below the elastic on her bra. “Ouch.” She hissed.
“I’m sorry.” He sounded sorry, too. Even if he didn’t love her the same way she loved him, she knew he cared. She could see it on his face, in his eyes, as he carefully examined her injuries.
When the examination was finished, he sat back on his heels. “I think at least one of your ribs is badly bruised, maybe even cracked.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Mac opened his pack. After digging for a moment, he produced a small first-aid kit. “There’s only one ace bandage in here. It’ll have to do for now.” He fished out the roll.
Caitlin leaned away from the tree, still holding up her shirt for him to wrap her ribs.
A hesitant look crossed his face. “Uh.” He cleared his throat. “This will be easier if you take your shirt off.”
Of all the times for him to ask. Caitlin almost wanted to cry for the irony of it. She couldn’t reply. Her bravado disappeared like smoke on the wind.
She lowered her shirttail and reached for the first button, silently cursing her quivering fingers. At least he didn’t make any cutting comments. Not that he would. If anything, Mac was polite beyond reason. However, the invitation she’d issued a couple of days ago to visit her bedroom jumped front and center in her mind. Some seductress she was, trembling as she undressed for the man she loved.
With the last button undone, she shrugged the shirt off her shoulders. Mac helped by taking a sleeve and sliding it off her arm. Then she maneuvered her other arm loose. Once free, she laid the shirt across her lap and dared a peek at him.
Although his face looked as if it was carved from granite, his eyes darkened. There was no mistaking the flare of desire when his gaze roamed over her body. A part of her was surprised at his reaction. Her sports bra covered more than a swimsuit.
A muscle along his jaw jumped. “Can you lift your arms?” His voice had turned husky.
Caitlin obeyed, holding her arms away from her sides.
Mac anchored one end of the wrap under the elastic of her bra while he unrolled the bandage along her side and around her back. His knuckles brushed her skin, leaving a trail of sparks that found a way to her very core.
He didn’t appear immune to the sensation, either. As she tried to control her own breathing, she noticed his became deeper. An unsettled tension suspended between them. Tangible. Heavy with want. Thick with denial. Neither of them could admit to the desire pulsing between them. And yet, Caitlin knew it was too strong to ignore.
Mac must have been super-human in another life. His concentration seemed so complete, so clinically focused on his task, that his eyes never strayed higher than her midriff. She watched, both fascinated at his discipline and frustrated with his self-control. She wanted him to let loose, to give into the heat building between them. Like he had a few minutes earlier.
She took a shallow breath and looked up at the tree. If he did give in, he might disappear just as he had the last time two years ago. Or worse, never speak to her again. She couldn’t face either of those prospects, so she swallowed the need grinding through her and concentrated on his first aid.
There was enough bandage to wrap around her three times. He made it snug, but not so tight she couldn’t breathe. Almost immediately, the pain eased. He finished his task and secured the end.
“Thank you.” Caitlin was dismayed to hear the rasp in her own voice. Indecision warred with common sense. She was torn between the promise to herself that she’d confront Mac and the long ingrained habit of hiding her feelings from him. She cleared her throat and lifted her shirt to put back on.
“You’re welcome.” His words were a harsh growl at the back of his throat. His gaze glided upward, zeroing in on the pulse at her neck. His pupils were as black as the charred pine below. With the back of his hand, he reached out and touched the rise of her breast where a hint of lace met skin.
Shock tore through her as he trailed roughened fingertips to the cusp of her slight cleavage before skating up the other side to her collarbone. Leaving a swath of searing heat from the light sweep of his touch.
The air around them erupted in an explosion of yearning. Caitlin’s breath hitched. The sound brought his gaze to her face. The muscle in his granite jaw jumped. Time suspended. They were in uncharted territory. She wasn’t his sister—and this time, she knew he understood. Desire burned in his eyes, the same desire she’d struggled to ignore throughout the long night.
“Cait.” Her name rushed out on his breath. He cupped her chin. A guiding thumb tilted her face upward. Her heart skittered as his head descended. He paused. Warm breath caressed her lips before his mouth crashed against hers in a wave of unbridled hunger. Smoldering embers, created by a steadfast refusal to accept the potency of their attraction, finally ignited in a blaze of passion. Fueled by years of longing, his kiss probed, questioned and fulfilled.
The air around them crackled. The sound was so real that Caitlin thought the fire had reached their safe haven. Even Mac paused at the sound. Then she realized the noise came from the breeze tickling the branches, sending pine needles raining down all around them. A gentle percussion to punctuate their moment of surrender.
Mac resumed his kiss. This time it was more possessive. Branding her in a way he’d never done the first time. A ripple of doubt surfaced. A fleeting thought, more imagined than real, that this wouldn’t last—that when they stopped and Mac realized what they’d done—he’d withdraw even further than before.
In a heartbeat, the doubt was replaced by the scorching touch of his palm on her breast. She moaned, silently cursing the barrier of her bra. The pain in her ribs stopped her from arching her back but didn’t prevent her from wanting more.
Desperate to touch him as he was touching her, she tugged at the corners of his shirt. Finally, she found his bare back. Skin to skin, she explored smooth planes and bunched muscles. Fingers splayed wide, she skated along his sides before roaming over his chest. His heart pounded wildly, syncopated with hers in a rhythm created for this very moment. Inch by brazen inch, she glided over washboard abs and wiry hair until the cool metal of his belt buckle met her probe. Testing, she dove lower and found confirmation of his desire. Her wicked, teasing brush was rewarded with a muffled groan.
Emboldened by his response, she returned her fingers to the belt buckle. Primal, physical need banished all rational thought. Hunger for Mac dulled her pain and overrode common sense. It surrounded her—pulsed deep inside her. A hunger only he could assuage.