The Marine & the Debutante. Maureen Child
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leg.
“Hey!” She stiffened and tried to pull away, but let’s face it, she was so tired a snail could have overtaken her. Let alone Mr. I’ll-Get-Tired-Later.
“Relax, princess,” he said, his fingers kneading the tight flesh. “I’m just tryin’ to help.”
She muffled a yelp and told herself to stop him. She shouldn’t be letting him do this. She hated him. She hated what he was forcing her to do. Heck, she’d walked more today than she usually did in a month of treadmill exercising. And it was all his fault. If he hadn’t waved off that helicopter, she’d be winging her way toward an American Embassy somewhere, already anticipating a hot bath and a good meal and some fresh clothes. So, yeah. She hated him and she should be telling him all this while at the same time making him stop massaging her legs. And yet…it felt so good. Pain shimmered inside her, blossomed, then disappeared under the wash of warmth drawn from his fingertips.
He moved from one calf to the other, his strong fingers easing away the tightness in her muscles until she almost wanted to weep with the pleasure of it all. Okay, she thought. Maybe he’s not so bad. Maybe he’s doing the best he can. Maybe he’s sorry that he’s working her so hard. Maybe…
“Okay, that’s it,” he announced. “Let’s get movin’.” He dropped her leg as if it were a seashell; picked up, examined, then discarded as useless.
And just like that she hated him again.
“That’s your idea of a ‘rest’?” she asked. “Three whole minutes?”
Standing up, he held one hand out to her and pulled her to her feet. “Sun’ll be up in a few hours,” he said sagely, his gaze drifting across the far horizon. “I want to be tucked away nice and quiet before that happens.”
She shifted her gaze to the same horizon and realized that the sky did look just a bit brighter. They’d been walking all night. No wonder she was tired, for pity’s sake.
“And you think I’m going to be able to walk three more miles in under three hours?” If the way she was feeling at the moment was any indication, she’d be lying in a crumpled heap inside of a half hour. Her own fallen image rose up in her brain, and Lisa imagined the headlines—Billionaire’s Daughter Found Dead in Desert. And, of course, there’d be pictures. Of her mummified body wearing her once fashionable, now pitiful, designer dress.
Now there’s an epitaph.
“You’ll make it,” he said, his words shattering the thoughts in her mind with the steely ring of determination in his tone.
She looked up at him. Funny, she hadn’t noticed until just this minute how tall he was. At least six-three. At five-nine, Lisa was no munchkin, but he made her feel tiny in comparison. Maybe she could make it. With his help. He didn’t seem the kind of man to give up easily. If he had, they would have been captured hours ago.
“Okay, general,” she said, bravely swallowing the knot of fear lodged in her throat. “You lead, I’ll follow.”
“Ooh-rah,” he said, and gave her a smile that nearly knocked her over.
“Ya-hoo,” she answered, hoping she’d see that smile again really soon.
Travis wouldn’t have admitted it under torture, but he was beat, down to the ground. The cold was keeping him awake for now, but if he didn’t get some sleep soon, neither one of them was going to get out of here. Which was why he nearly shouted in joy when he spotted the cave.
If he hadn’t been looking specifically for just this, he never would have noticed it. A slight overhang of rock jutted out from the side of the mountain, looking like nothing more than an extrawide crevice. Yet, on closer inspection, he found a narrow but deep cave that would be a perfect place to hide.
Every bone in his body cried out for rest, but before he could, he had to make sure the place was safe. Leaving the princess at the mouth of the cave, he took his rifle and snatched a chem light out of his equipment belt. Cracking the hard plastic case, he then shook it until the crystals inside glowed a soft green. An ordinary flashlight or a flare would be too bright in this all-encompassing blackness. Too easy to spot from a distance. This thing would give off enough light to see by and still be hard to spot by their enemies. Carefully he inspected the shelter. The eerie green light glowed and cast soft, indistinct shadows on the rock walls. His right hand gripping the rifle, he held the light up high in his left as he squinted into the darkness.
“What do you see?”
He winced as her voice seemed to echo in the stony enclosure, and he hoped to hell the place was as empty as it seemed.
“Quiet.” His voice was hardly more than a raspy hush of sound. And still it traveled back to her with no problem.
“And what does quiet look like?” she muttered.
Travis grinned reluctantly and shook his head. This damn woman was as stubborn as he was. A moment later, though, the smile on his face faded as he concentrated on the task at hand. The walls were solid, no holes where critters could crawl or slither through from somewhere else. There was no sign of human habitation in here, but there was always the threat of snakes. Growing up in Texas had given him a healthy respect for the reptiles, and he sure as hell didn’t want any surprises while they slept.
Damn, his eyes felt heavy. Gritty. As though he hadn’t slept in a year. He blinked, shook his head again and focused. As he did, a slight movement caught the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to follow the snake’s movement. Just one, it was moving fast across the sandy ground.
“Damn it,” he whispered, knowing he couldn’t risk a gunshot to kill it. He’d been prepared to fire on a hostile human, but he’d rather not risk a rifle shot being heard for miles for the sake of killing a snake. Gritting his teeth, Travis set his rifle down, grabbed his knife and killed it, neatly slicing its head from its body.
Then he stood and gave a last look around. Everything else was secure. If the snake had had friends, they were long gone. The cave wasn’t much, but it looked damn good to him at the moment. They were safe—for now. They could get some rest and hide until he figured out the best route to get out of this country.
“What’s going on back there?” she called, and he heard the fear in her voice.
That woman could drive a saint right out of heaven, he thought. But then, a part of him couldn’t really blame her for being scared. She’d already been through more than most folks would face in a lifetime, and to give her her due, she hadn’t folded. And Travis admired grit in a person, male or female.
Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t wish she was anywhere but there. But wishes wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. They were stuck together. And the fact that she was too blasted good-looking for comfort shouldn’t come into it. She was his responsibility—nothing else. He’d best remember that. “It’s okay,” he said. “You can come in now.”
“Good,” she said, and her voice told him how quickly she was making her way down the length of the cave. “I was getting worried back there by myself. You know you could have left me one of your little Halloween pumpkin light thingies.”
“It’s a chem light. Not the kind used in pumpkins.”
“Whatever,” she said, and he watched her walk into the circle of soft-green light. “The point is, it’s really dark in here and I—”
Her voice broke off as her gaze fastened on the dead snake. She took several deep breaths, slapped one hand to her chest and said, “Oh, God.”
“It’s dead.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” Eyes wide, she backed up and looked around frantically as if expecting to see a pack of snakes sneaking up on her flank.
He bent down, picked up the carcass and held it up admiringly. At least a three-footer. “You’ll think better of it once it’s cooked.”
“Cooked?”