by Diana Duncan
Her heart crashed painfully against her ribs. Was he going to take the boat out to sea alone? Use himself as bait? “You don’t stand a chance in this leaky death trap! They’ll capture and kill you!”
“I’ll join you in a minute. Go!”
Balanced precariously in the heaving vessel, she hitched her survival kit over her shoulder. Her numb fingers fumbled with the vest’s buckles. “If you’re lying, I will follow you into the afterlife and make Heaven a living hell.”
“A vow you’re more than capable of keeping.” His chuckle was labored. “I’ll warn St. Peter.”
A hard shove in the small of her back plunged her into the freezing water, and the icy shock stole her breath. The Pacific Ocean never got much warmer than fifty degrees at this latitude. She spat out salty water, battling despair. Aidan was one-handed, exhausted, and beat-up. If he’d lied to her ... If he took off in the boat alone, he was doomed.
She clung to an outcropping and struggled out of the sodden slipper-shoes as cold, relentless waves slapped her against the rocks.
It seemed like hours crawled past.
Finally, Aidan splashed into the water beside her. The empty boat zoomed away.
He moaned in pain. Went under. Zoe grabbed, nearly missed, but just caught him by the hair. She yanked hard and his head surfaced.
Barely conscious, he coughed and gagged. His face was bleached white in the moonlight.
“Aidan?” Pulse thundering in her ears, she tugged him closer and managed to wedge her arm beneath his. Unfortunately, it was his injured arm, and he groaned. “Were you shot?”
“No.” He bit out the words through pinched, colorless lips. “Slammed. Shoulder. Fucking. Rock.”
She clung to the outcropping with one hand and him with the other and fought to keep hold of him in the turbulent waves. “It’s okay. I won’t let you drown.”
“Endangering. You.” He coughed again. “Let go.”
“Not in this lifetime. You protected me, now I’ll protect you.”
“No. You have ... life vest ... good ... chance.” He ground his teeth. “I’m strong. I’ll manage. Save yourself.”
She glanced apprehensively at the dark, cresting waves. They could be miles from shore. But if they were gonna die, they’d die together.
However, she’d do everything in her power to ensure their survival.
“Go,” he insisted. “Save. Yourself.”
“So not happening.” She pressed a kiss to his wet, salty brow. “All for one and one for all, savvy?”
“Damned. Stubborn. Woman.”
“Now you’re catching on.” She wrestled off the flotation vest and put it on him, going under multiple times and swallowing gallons of seawater. Looping the handle of her survival bag over his head, she tucked it against his chest. She extracted the coiled nylon rope, tied one end to his vest collar and the other around her waist, looping it for the right length.
Aidan seemed too stunned to do anything but mutter incoherent protests through chattering teeth. Her stomach lurched. The lethal combo of pain and frigid water would send him into shock. Hell, first, she had to keep them both from drowning.
“Aidan,” she spoke softly into his ear. “The life vest will support your head and upper body. I need you to float on your back and kick your feet, okay?”
“Don’t. Risk. Your life. For me. Again.”
“Getting heartily sick of that song. I much prefer ‘You Really Got A Hold On Me.’”
He growled faintly. Hey, progress. Frustration would help keep him warm inside. And his kicking would not only aid her, but warm him on the outside.
She took a deep breath and pushed off the rocks. As she’d told Aidan, she’d always been at home in the water. Swimming had fit her youthful needs to a T. A solitary activity that didn’t cost anything and satisfied her craving for freedom. She was in good shape.
She could do this.
Towing Aidan, she swam parallel to the outcropping.
He helped by kicking, but his movements soon grew sporadic. The deep throb of the ocean thrummed in her ears along with her heartbeat. She had to keep him awake and aware. If he lost consciousness, shock could kill him before she got him to shore.
“How’d you make the boat go off by itself?”
Silence.
She arched one arm over another in a steady crawl. Her nerves wound tighter with each stroke. “Aidan?” She tipped her mouth out of the water and shouted to make sure he’d heard her. “How’d you rig the boat?”
“Jammed ... throttle. Tied down ... steering mechanism.”
“But won’t it sink with a hole in it?”
“No. Even leaking ... she’ll streak without passengers. When UNSUBS finally catch up ... find her empty. Won’t know ... where to start looking.”
Her cop was incredibly resourceful, even under extreme duress. “Brilliant.”
She was a strong swimmer, but before long, weariness and numbing cold weighted her arms and legs. She didn’t have enough energy to speak. They both fell silent.
She could only swim. And hope.
On and on.
Until she could barely lift one arm over the other.
Strength, energy, and optimism faltered.
Were they doomed to die together, after all?
Just as she feared she would sink beneath the relentless waves with no strength to surface, Aidan coughed. “Zoe. Don’t. Surrender,” he croaked. “No matter ... how long and dark the night. The sun ... always triumphs ... in the morning.”
His encouragement spurred her onward. Not only her own life, but Aidan’s was at stake. Can’t give up.
Finally, just ahead, a jagged outline loomed high above her. Cliffs!
Let there be a beach, and not merely piles of rocks.
One last burst of energy carried her forward. Her toes brushed sand, and fatigue overwhelmed relief.
Dragging Aidan behind her, she crawled onto the beach. Gasping, shivering, she sprawled while marshaling dwindling reserves.
Long before she was ready, she pushed up on all fours, her trembling muscles jelly. Aidan’s legs still lay in the raging surf. She grabbed the life vest’s collar. Inch by agonizing inch, she dragged his massive weight onto dry sand and behind a pile of concealing boulders. Gusty wind plastered her wet shirt to her goosebumpy skin. Shaking uncontrollably from cold and exhaustion, she bent over his head, trying in vain to shelter him.
His closed eyes and slack face made her heart lurch. She brought her ear close to his face. Breathing. Thank God. “Aidan?” She patted his icy cheek.
No response.
Have to get him warm. How?
She had G-Rat’s lighter, but finding wood and building a fire would take too long. Anyway, a campfire wouldn’t do much good when they were soaking wet and exposed to the brisk ocean breeze. Plus, an open fire would draw the bad guys like a beacon.
The cold, grueling swim conspired with extreme thirst and hunger to make her slow and weak. She lifted her bag from around Aidan’s neck and took the life vest off him. Her bag’s contents were damp but not completely waterlogged, thanks to the vinyl lining and tight nylon zipper. He’d passed her flares, rope, fish hooks, and a folded, tightly-woven tarp before pushing her out of the boat. The thick tarp was waterproof. She spread the heavy material over him. “Aidan, can you hear me?”
Still no response.
The only heat available was body heat. Teeth chattering, she struggled out of her sodden shirt. She didn’t have the energy to wrestle him out of his pants. Zoe crawled under the tarp and loosened the sling, resting his injured arm at his side. She carefully lay on top of his bare torso, then flipped up the tarp to cover them like a tent. Sliding her arms around Aidan’s neck, she nestled her face into his throat and closed her eyes in an attempt to ignore the darkness. Tried to stop trembling. Tried not to dwell on how close she’d come to losing him. Twice.
Had anyone realized he was missing yet? Were the good guys searching for them ... or would the
bad guys find them first? She shivered harder.
Think warm thoughts.
Her breasts rested against Aidan’s muscled chest, hard and reassuring beneath her. His solid chest rose and fell with each even breath, and crisp hair gently abraded her nipples. His heartbeat thudded steadily against hers. His cool, firm skin smelled like an intriguing combination of tangy seawater and his own unique male scent. Snuggling close to him comforted her. Restored her.
Sheltered from the breeze and pressed body to body, the cold slowly receded. Not exactly cozy warmth, but no longer bone-chilling.
She didn’t know how much time passed before Aidan stirred beneath her and mumbled incoherently.
“Aidan,” she said softly. “Wake up.”
He shifted again. Muttered.
“Aidan?” She smoothed thick, damp hair off his forehead. “It’s Zoe. Talk to me.”
His sharply indrawn breath lifted his chest, and her with it. Skin intimately brushed skin. “Zoe?” His voice grew stronger by the second. “What the hell?”
Sparkling relief bubbled through her veins, as intoxicating as the champagne she’d savored at the wedding. She raised her head, but couldn’t see his face in the dark. “Welcome back, SWAT.”
Those long fingers curled around the nape of her neck, then stroked down her spine, and her body quivered in response. His hand hesitated just north of the damp scrap of red satin that covered her butt. “Zoe?” He sounded pole-axed. Poor guy probably felt like he had been. “You’re naked.”
Weary joy swirled giddily. “Mostly.” She couldn’t hold back a giggle. Leave it to her cop to cut to the chase. “Nothing wrong with your observational skills.”
His heartbeat kicked into double-time as she twitched up the corner of the tent to study his face. Pale, but his eyes were focused. The rest of him seemed pretty alert, too. “How do you feel?”
“Like I have a naked woman on top of me,” he growled.
That explained the bump in heart rate. Oh well, a fast pulse would increase his body heat. She dropped the canvas back into place. “I’m trying to warm you up.”
“Yeah?” His deep voice vibrated in her ear. “It’s working.”
Impossible to be this intimate with him and remain unaffected. Tingles glittered down her spine. She shivered under the delicious onslaught as her nipples pebbled. He made a primitive, male sound low in his throat and heat washed over her. “Ah, don’t get any ideas.”
He laughed raggedly. “Too late.”
“Well, you seem to be feeling a lot better.”
“You don’t feel so bad yourself, honey.”
She adjusted her position to accommodate the big, hard bulge pressing into her stomach. Holy smokes. Supposedly, when men were cold, certain body parts shrank. Apparently, her cop was growing warmer by the second. “I saw a hot-water heater in an ad that promised ‘quick recovery.’ A major appliance has nothing on you.”
He chuckled again. “You’re effective medicine, sweetheart.”
As far as cures went, he was damn effective himself. A spark of vitality flickered, restoring some of her strength. Her hope. “Am I too heavy on your shoulder?”
“You’re fine. Shoulder’s not nearly as bad. The cold water reduced the swelling and pain.” His fingertips lovingly traced the small of her back as if he were learning the landscape, and liked his discovery. “How did we end up on dry land? The last thing I remember is diving out of the boat.”
“You hit your shoulder again and got disoriented. I swam us to shore.”
His body went taut. A short, sharp silence ensued. “In other words, you took another gamble with your own life. You should’ve let me make it to shore myself.”
“You would’ve died.” Exasperation got her really warm, really fast. Instead of Jamison, his middle name should be Bullheaded. “Would you leave me to save yourself?”
“Not the same scenario.”
In a bygone century, her warrior would’ve been a noble knight, wielding a sword in protection of his lady. “Why? Because you have a big flashlight, and I don’t?”
Though she couldn’t see it, she felt his scowl all the way to her toes. “Because I’m trained in survival.”
“Training doesn’t help when you’re incapacitated and shocky. Besides, I am trained in survival. Not at cop boot camp, but by life. I lived to survive and I survived to live. We’re a team, savvy? So shut the hell up and rest, dammit.”
“One member of this team,” he gritted, “doesn’t comprehend rank and discipline.”
Discipline, huh? I had no idea you were into kinky.”
He muttered something about spanking under his breath that didn’t have anything to do with discipline.
“Now that sounded intriguing,” she said impishly.
He sighed. “I’m gonna buy you a T-shirt that says, Doesn’t Play Well with Others.”
“I play just fine ... when the game makes sense.” She sobered. “If anyone understands this, it should be you—I learn my capabilities by facing and overcoming challenges. Don’t try to take that away from me.”
Clearly startled, he didn’t speak for several long minutes. “I don’t want to deny you anything, sweetheart.” He sounded shaken. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“I know.” She softened her voice. “But life happens, Aidan. You can’t protect me from it. I don’t want you to.” She gave him a gentle hug. “In the end, nobody gets off this planet alive. I’d rather experience every moment to the fullest, make the most of every opportunity—even for a brief time—than cling to the illusion of safety and grow stagnant.”
He went absolutely still. In the shocked silence, she couldn’t even hear him breathing. Finally, he inhaled sharply. “Shit,” he whispered. He was trembling. “Don’t have to throw me over a cliff twice. Okay, I get it.”
She frowned. Her sixth sense told her he wasn’t ready to explain why her statement had rattled him so badly. Sometimes, better to quit while you were ahead. “I’ll scout around, see if I can find shelter.” Before he could protest, she slipped out from under the tarp and struggled back into her wet shirt.
* * *
Aidan lay in darkness fighting to muster his strength. Get off your ass and help Zoe.
But his body refused the order.
Thoughts raced around in his head louder than the lead car at the Daytona 500. He’d nearly made the same damn mistake again. He’d not only locked up his own emotions, he’d tried to arrest and incarcerate Zoe’s joie de vivre. Not intentionally. Her zest for life was one of the things he appreciated most about her. Along with her bravery, creativity, smarts, and sound moral compass.
But his overprotective instincts wanted to lock her in a gilded cage. Which was no way to live.
No matter how good the intentions, a cell was still a cell.
He blew out a frustrated breath. Scrubbed his good hand over his face. He had to learn to let go. Live in the moment. Zoe could teach him a thing or two about that.
He swept the tarp off his face, eased to a sitting position, and woozily glanced around. He caught a flash of white near the cliff’s base. She’d survived a horrible childhood to become a light in the darkness. Not like the harsh glare that would be cast by the flares he’d liberated from the boat. Her soft glow illuminated every dark, hidden secret in his soul. Pure brightness that revealed the truth. Forced him to face facts.
She baffled him, dazzled him, and frustrated the ever-living hell out of him.
And he reveled in the challenge. She’d saved his life ... twice. At considerable risk to her own. The realization made him tremble. If anything happened to her, it would rip out his heart.
Because I love her.
Jesus. He reeled from the nuclear blast, but didn’t duck the fallout. Merely sat and absorbed the blow.
He’d spent the past six months denying the reality being hammered into his thick skull. But he couldn’t deny the truth when it slapped him in the face.
Holy shit! I love her!
With the exact all-consuming, heart-shaking fierceness he’d vowed never to feel.
Fear and exultation tangled inside him. He’d never wanted to leave a woman behind. Zoe refused to be left behind. He’d never wanted grief to devastate his soul-mate. Zoe would grieve as deeply as she loved, but she hadn’t let pain stop her from living before, and wouldn’t in the future. He’d never wanted a woman to depend on him. An unsteady chuckle slipped out. He’d received his wish. His intrepid reporter was as independent as they came.
They shared scorching sexual chemistry. Meshed emotionally and intellectually. She carried the same aching loneliness within her that shadowed his own soul. Yeah, she needed him as much as he did her, but in some ways, she was as strong as he was. In other ways, stronger. Together, two halves made a whole.
Could they have a future?
The possibility staggered him. Thrilled him. Terrified him. So much was at stake. He’d have to risk everything.
Clenching his fists, he made a silent vow. He would get them both out of here alive. Neither would die just when he’d discovered how much they had to live for.
“Zoe,” he called. “I could use your help.” There, that wasn’t so god-awful hard to admit, was it?
“Coming!” She hurried to his side, a pale seraph of mercy in the murky gloom. Shivering, she knelt in front of him. “What do you need?”
You. He rubbed her shoulder. Her skin was chilled under the damp tuxedo shirt. “You’re freezing in this wind. You shouldn’t have put that wet shirt back on.”
She fussed with the tarp, wrapping it around him. “I can’t run around in nothing but panties.”
“Hey, no objections from the rear guard about that.” But he understood her preference to be cold over the vulnerability of being naked. While he was comfortable with his body, he wasn’t yet comfortable with his naked, vulnerable emotions. “Rig the sling again so I can help you search.”
“You should stay put and rest.” He shot her an exasperated look, and she sighed. “Fine.” She scooped up the waterlogged cummerbund and bow tie. “Tough guys,” she muttered. “Can’t live with them, can’t smother them in their sleep.”
