by Diana Duncan
“He’s coming closer!” She retreated several wary steps.
“Move toward it! Don’t give ground!”
“Are y-you insane? A two-hundred-pound kitty can have any patch of ground he wants.”
Aidan rose, gripping a branch and a handful of rocks. He forcefully strode toward the cougar, tugging a reluctant Zoe in his wake. “He doesn’t want your patch of dirt. He wants you. Don’t make it seem easy.” He pitched the rocks, striking the cougar’s flank. “Go on! Get out of here!”
The wild animal snarled, baring sharp fangs, and backed up a few steps. Aidan again moved forward, lunging with the branch.
“The bad guys want me, the cougar wants me,” Zoe’s voice cracked. From behind him, she waved her bag at the big cat. “Really, I never cared for popularity.”
“Go on!” Aidan was almost close enough to whack the cougar with the branch. “Get!”
Growling, the animal swiped at the branch with razored claws, but backed away. Aidan lunged a second time, and the cat retreated farther. After a long, nerve-wracking duel, the cougar finally melted into the brush.
Every muscle taut, Aidan watched and listened. The cougar could spring out at them, or circle and attack from behind.
Unaware they were still in danger, Zoe sagged against him. “I have a new topic for a feature. ‘Close wildlife encounters of the potentially deadly kind.’ I thought you weren’t supposed to look predators directly in the eye.”
The crickets began to chirp their singsong chorus once more. Satisfied that the cougar wasn’t coming back, Aidan turned. “Let’s move. We have a long way to go.” He kept his grip on the branch, the only weapon he had, and supported Zoe with his other hand. “You don’t look a dog or wolf in the eye. Or a bear. To those animals, a direct stare is a challenge.” He pitched his voice low and continued to listen. The men hunting them were far away in the opposite direction, but he couldn’t afford to let down his guard. He picked up speed again. “With cats, it shows dominance. And as I said, we wanted the cougar to know we’d seen it.”
Zoe uncomplainingly kept up with the brisk pace he set, though her feet had to be killing her in those sexy heels. Especially as the challenging terrain steepened. “Yikes! Wolves and bears?”
He surveyed the landscape. They’d nearly reached the base of the bluff. “Watch those protruding tree roots.” He guided her around the obstacle. “Don’t worry. We probably won’t run into either.”
Aside from the threat of hungry wild animals, Zoe worried about a more basic problem as she and Aidan trekked through the woods. The strain of the last few hours combined with the cougar scare had only made her growing need worse. “Can we spring these handcuffs now?”
He halted at the edge of a small clearing, and his vigilant glance probed every murky nook and cranny. “A brief stop before we climb probably won’t do any harm. Do you have a pair of sunglasses in your bag? I need something long and thin, but sturdy. The earpiece would be perfect for picking the lock.”
“No sunglasses.” She unzipped her bag. “I suppose the broken nail file is too wide?” At his affirmative nod, she riffled the contents. “The ink cartridge from a pen?”
“Not strong enough.”
“Eyelash curler…too bulky. Mascara wand…too flimsy.” She continued the search with increasing desperation. “I have a wire-bound spiral notebook. The wire is fairly sturdy.”
He nodded. “Twisted double, it could work.”
She hurriedly unwound the wire and passed it to him. “Have you done this before?”
“There’s a first time for everything.” He lifted their bound wrists up to a patch of moonlight and inserted the wire.
She willed him to succeed. Quickly. When her hand went numb from lack of circulation, she shifted from foot to foot. “Can you hurry?”
“I’m doing my best. This would be easier if you’d stop jigging.”
“The thing is…well…” Shoot. He’d seen her fibbing to Officer Ryan, wallowing in garbage and cringing in fear of the dark. How much worse could it be? Ha. A lot. “I had several glasses of champagne at the reception. Between that and hours of abject terror, I…uh…need to use the facilities. Badly.”
He glanced at her in concern. “This is gonna take awhile. On a scale of one to ten, how urgent is it?”
“Forty-three.” She couldn’t help fidgeting again. “What’s wrong? Picking handcuffs looks dead easy in the movies.”
He snorted. “It’s not so easy in semidarkness, using my left hand. And these are police-issue steel cuffs, not a pair of fakes tricked out so Harrison Ford can pop ’em with a paperclip. It’s purposely difficult, so every Tom, Dick and armed robber can’t do it on a whim.”
“I’m gonna have a problem.” She gnawed the inside of her cheek in agitation. “Soon.”
“How desperate are you?”
“More desperate than Madonna when she kissed Britney Spears on international TV for the publicity.”
“That bad, huh?” He pointed to his left. “I can stand on one side of those thick bushes, and you on the other. With our arms stretched across the top, you can take care of business in relative privacy.”
A very distant relative to privacy, but need conquered modesty.
It turned out that fleeing through the woods in a fitted gown and three inch heels was a snap compared to taking care of business in the woods in said gown and heels while handcuffed to Aidan like escapees from a bondage festival.
She located tissue from her stash and refused to think about bugs. And possible approaching armed bad guys. Not to mention wolves and cougars and bears. “Sing.”
“Huh?” Aidan’s puzzled question floated from the other side of the hedge.
“I can’t do this with you listening. Sing something to keep yourself busy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Strangled humor bubbled in his reply, but luckily for him, he didn’t laugh. “Do you have a request?”
“I don’t know. Pick something. Anything.”
After a short pause, he began to sing softly, his voice as deep and rich as embossed velvet.
Done, and much relieved, she followed him back to the patch of moonlight. She feared he might tease her, but he studiously resumed lock duty.
Zoe studied his handsome face bent intently to his work. “We’ve definitely established that beggars can’t be choosers. But your idea of an appropriate song for the occasion is ‘You Really Got a Hold On Me?’”
He shrugged. “I’m no Smoky Robinson, but it’s the first song that sprang to mind.”
Was there a subliminal message in the song? It definitely had possibilities. “Your mind is bent, SWAT.”
He laughed, the husky vibrations dancing through her. He should laugh more often. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You have a beautiful singing voice.”
He made a low wolf growl in his throat that melted her into chocolate fondue. “All the better to accompany you on business trips, my dear.”
“Thanks, but I prefer traveling solo on those jaunts.”
She held perfectly still while he worked the lock. He slipped several times, and the wire popped out. If he didn’t succeed, their chances of survival decreased exponentially. His effectiveness in a fight would be zilch. And it grew harder and harder to navigate the gloomy, obstacle-strewn forest while shackled together. Slow minutes ticked past. Aidan seemed to possess endless patient persistence, but for Zoe, not fidgeting became a major victory.
Finally, the handcuffs dropped to the ground, and she sighed and rubbed her sore wrist. “Free at last! What now?”
He stuck the cuffs into his trouser pocket and indicated the mountain hulking in front of them. “We scale the hill and establish an SOS signal.”
“I think we’d have a better chance of rescue if we hike down to the shoreline. Maybe we can flag down an outgoing boat.”
He frowned. “Where did you take wilderness survival training?”
“Hey, I watched Survivor.”
&n
bsp; “Great. When we need to vote someone off the island, you’re in charge. Until then, we do things my way.”
After the past hours of easy camaraderie, his brusque dismissal stung. He’d instantly demoted her from equal to lackey. Hurt wrenched inside, and she stacked her arms and bobbed, like the blonde on I Dream of Jeannie. “Yes, Master.”
His frown morphed into a scowl. “The grand prize on this island isn’t money. Our lives are at stake, Zoe.”
“I know.” Her cop had gone above and beyond the call of duty to keep her alive tonight. Ashamed of her defensive overreaction, she shuffled her feet. “I’m sorry. But darn it, your bossy-boots attitude tweaks my inner imp.”
His full, sensual lips twitched and then he grinned. “I believe there’s a twelve-step program for that.”
“Oh, yes. SAA. Smart Alecks Anonymous. I have their number.”
He snickered. “I’ll bet you do.”
She held his gaze, her own earnest. “Aidan, you need to realize that I can contribute to our survival. Because I’m a terrified civilian doesn’t make me incompetent, or my ideas less valid.” Her lips wobbled, and she pressed them firmly together. “I thought we were a team. After all, the contents of my bag got us out of that locked trunk and opened the cuffs.”
He sighed. “I don’t have an objection to teamwork, honey. However, you need to understand that on this operation, I am team leader. I’m trained to handle these scenarios. My sole objective is to keep you safe. Keep you alive.”
“Our objective is to keep each other alive.”
“Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.” He rolled his shoulders, tension evident in every hard line of his body as he glanced around. She’d noticed that the banter during their trek hadn’t distracted him from constantly scanning their surroundings for danger. “If I have to stop and explain every decision, the delay could be fatal.”
“I wholeheartedly appreciate your devout protection.” However, the lone-wolf attitude had to go. Hopefully she could show him the advantages of having her as an ally. “And I see where you’re coming from. We can’t be fighting over every little thing if we’re going to survive. But I’ve done a decent job of looking out for my own welfare for a long time now.” She paused to let that sink in. “Underestimating me and protecting me are two entirely different animals. Please don’t bark orders at me like I’m a brainless twit.”
He nodded. “I apologize.” His full lips quirked in a wry smile. “Which I seem to do a lot around you. You’re an intelligent, capable woman, and I didn’t mean to insult you.” He cupped her face in a large, warm hand. “My single-minded focus comes across, as my brothers so aptly stated at the reception, as ‘uptight, headstrong and intense.’” His thumb brushed her cheek, sending delightful shivers down her spine. “The shoreline is downstream. The bad guys went that way. What would happen if we flagged down one of them by mistake?”
His tender gaze dissolved the hard knot in her chest. “I didn’t know the shoreline was downstream. I thought getting there would be easier and boating off the island would be faster than tromping through the woods. The bad guys are combing the island, so we might run into them anyway.”
“A chance we have to take. I have a plan…” He grinned at her eager expression. “Which I will explain when we reach the top of the bluff.”
“All righty then.” The uncomfortable misunderstanding had served its purpose. Forced to talk out their differences in operating styles, they finally understood one another. She squared her shoulders and marshaled her rapidly dwindling resources. “What are we waiting for?” She determinedly marched up the hill.
His long stride easily kept pace with her. He flashed another grin. “You’re game for anything, Zagretti, and one hell of a good sport.”
“Glad to be of some use.” She giggled. “Master.”
He reached out and tweaked a curl. “Impertinence alert.”
“You haven’t seen anything, yet, SWAT.”
He laughed softly. “Is that a promise or a threat?”
She slanted an arched look in his direction. “Depends on how easily you spook.”
“Ask my brothers, it’s tough to scare me.”
“No worries, then.”
The hill soon turned into a nearly vertical track, and Zoe lost the ability to talk as she toiled up the steep incline. Merely breathing became an impressive feat. Even gripping Aidan’s hand, she struggled to reach the top.
Aidan’s wary gaze continually canvassed the area, and each rustle, every flutter from the underbrush jerked him to attention. Neither needed to remind the other that a snarling cougar lurked in the deep woods behind them. Or that gun-toting bad guys could eventually find them.
Finally, the ground evened out and they reached the top. Good thing she wasn’t afraid of heights, because they were a long way up. Aidan stopped beneath an old-growth pine, and propped the branch he’d used to drive off the cougar against the broad trunk. Far below, the roar of the Pacific Ocean echoed through the forest to her left, and a brisk sea breeze tugged at her hair, making her shiver.
Aidan studied the huge, ancient pine. The lower limbs were thicker than his waist. “The perfect spot for what I have planned. Take off your dress.”
She blinked, goggled at him. “SWAT…seriously without any tact.”
His wicked wolf grin flashed. “Now whose mind is bent?” He chuckled. “When our abandoned cars are discovered in the parking lot, my brothers will call out a ground and air search. The sea-going SOS flag is red with a black circle and square. After sunrise, your dress will be visible for miles from the treetop, and the beads will reflect light like a lighthouse beacon. Once we find a place to hole up, we’ll lay out a directional signal visible from the air to pinpoint our location.”
Torn, she shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “Look, SWAT, I’m not opposed to giving my all for the cause, especially our survival. But the only thing I’m wearing under this dress is a pair of red satin panties and a navel ring.”
She watched her words burn into his imagination. Heat flared in his eyes, and lightning arced between them. His thoughts were an open book. The Kama Sutra. He swallowed hard, visibly reining in control. “I’ll give you my shirt and jacket.”
Whew. At least she wasn’t chilly anymore. Okay, she could handle wearing his shirt and jacket. In fact, it was a lot more than she had on right now. “Turn around.”
He slowly complied. “I’ve seen a woman’s body before.” His deep voice was husky.
“Not this woman’s body.” Another time and place, in a more secure environment, she wouldn’t mind.
He shrugged off his jacket and shirt while she wriggled out of her dress. With the gown clutched to her breasts, she turned. And froze. No woman with a pulse could help but admire his wide, bronzed back, rippling with hard muscles. It was her turn to swallow hard and rein in a rioting libido.
“Point to you.” A nervous giggle slipped out. She didn’t doubt he’d behave honorably. However, the situation was awkward. “You’re the first guy who’s ever talked me out of my clothes.” She dangled the gown over his bare shoulder. Standing so close, both naked to the waist, his body heat shimmered over her skin and every nerve ending tingled in response. Another inch, and the tips of her breasts would brush his back. Her nipples tightened, and she hastily took a step away from temptation.
“It’s the silver-tongued Irish blarney.” Without turning around, he took the dress from her hand and held up his shirt and jacket. His low chuckle torched her simmering hormones. “It couldn’t possibly just be the lesser of two evils at the moment.”
She moved back to button on the soft cotton garment, warm and redolent with his wonderful scent. Wearing his still-warm shirt seemed shockingly intimate, an affectionate, familiar act shared between lovers. Her hands unsteady, she rolled up the sleeves and then donned the jacket, leaving the front open. “I’m decent.”
He pivoted, hands on lean hips, his muscled thighs braced wide in an imposing
masculine stance. The breeze trailed playful fingers through his thick hair. Moonlight caressed his broad chest and ridged abs, and defined the strong, chiseled beauty of his face. Though Michelangelo had signed only one of his pieces, he would have proudly put his signature on such a magnificent work.
Aidan’s smoky gaze stroked her from tousled hair down the long expanse of thigh left bare under his shirttail, to her red heels. Then just as slowly, just as thoroughly, his intent gaze repeated the journey. A rugged, savage pirate, surveying his plunder. Need glinted in his warm caramel eyes. “You mean you’re dressed.” Desire thrummed in every hoarse word. “Decent is an entirely different game.”
She’d play games with him any day. Her stomach tumbled, and the lack of oxygen made it hard to breathe. “Guess you better sign me up for What Not To Wear.”
“Honey, that shirt looks better on you than it ever did on me. You can borrow my clothes anytime.”
She indicated her dress clutched in his strong hands. “And you, mine.”
Aidan stared down at it. “A one-way ticket to the apocalypse,” he muttered so low she barely heard. He shook his head as if to clear away the sensual haze, and ripped her dress down the side seam. The fabric parted with a rending tear, and she winced. The thrift-store gown was the most lovely, expensive garment she’d owned in a decade. He grimaced. “Sorry. I’ll replace it.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not your concern.”
“Everything about you concerns me.” The flash of intense possessiveness in his eyes made her stomach flip-flop again. “You mentioned a water bottle?”
Hours ago, in the garbage truck. “Good memory.” She dug the bottle out of her bag, and he squatted and poured a meager amount into the dirt at his feet. He mixed a thick mud paste, and then painted a black circle and square on the red gown.
“You’re a talented guy.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “So I’ve been told.”
