Wicked Sexy

by Anne Marsh

  When a vehicle hurtled out of the growing darkness toward her, she bit back a scream. A Jeep. Muddy and battered, and the canvas top looking distinctly the worse for wear. The driver braked just in time to avoid her as the floodwater sprayed up, breaking over the windshield.

  She flicked her flashlight on. The Jeep pulled slowly through the wheel-well–high water and stopped on the far side of the road, where the water line was lower. It looked like luck was finally on her side. Still, even there, the water was already licking at the Jeep’s hood. Any deeper and the engine might get flooded. The driver effortlessly hoisted himself out through the vehicle’s window. She’d never been so glad to see anyone.

  One strong, confident step at a time and he pushed himself through the waist-high water. She screamed as the current grabbed at him, pulling forcefully. For a moment, she thought he’d lose his footing, but then he moved forward again. As he drew closer he yelled something, but the wind ate up his words. Instead, he gestured for her to lean from the car window.

  Since he was nearly to her, she could make out the identity of the man beneath the hood of the rain slicker. Daeg Ross. His familiar face was focused, fierce.

  “Daeg,” she whispered.

  “Cal sent me,” he said and she nodded dumbly as if he was out here paying a social call. Relief snaked through her.

  His muscular arms closed carefully around her and pulled her gently from the car. He set her on the hood, stepping in between her legs. “Way I see it,” he said, “you’ve got a choice.” He was so deliciously warm where she was cold and wet.

  “I need to get you out of here.” He gestured toward the sedan and the growing level of water. “Your car’s not an option. My Jeep’s not getting back down the road, either.”

  “The shelter is in town,” she pointed out, fighting back fear. She didn’t want to be out here, alone, nor did she want the alternative.... Town—and people—sounded right to her.

  “You don’t get it, Dani.” He pressed his forehead tenderly to hers. “The roads are flooded. I don’t care if you planned to swim to town, it’s not safe. We have to wait this thing out now.”

  “All right.” She glared at him. Anger and adrenaline were churning her up inside, and she welcomed it. She had to keep a clear head where Daeg was concerned. “If the roads aren’t an option, then where do you plan to do this waiting? My car’s out of commission and your Jeep doesn’t look much better.”

  He glanced up the road and his hands tightened on her shoulders. “We’ll head back to the cabins and wait this thing out.”

  He braced himself as the floodwater slapped at him. “It’s impossible,” she said. She’d considered it, but it seemed too dangerous—even in these circumstances—and was an experience she could live without.

  He slid off his raincoat, wrapping the extra layer over her before she could push it away. His coat was warm from his body heat, an unspeakable luxury after the hour she’d spent in her car. She looked down and was almost sick. Waves raced and swirled around them and the car bucked.

  “The car’s...moving,” she whispered.

  He nodded, turned and gave her his back. “That’s why we’re walking,” he said, peering at her over his shoulder. “Back to the Jeep if we can, or straight up to the cabins if we have to, whichever is easiest. Climb on.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  He shook his head and gestured impatiently. “You don’t weigh enough to keep your balance in this kind of water. Even if you stick right by my side, I can’t guarantee you’ll stay upright, and swimming in these conditions takes training you don’t have. So I’ll carry you.”

  When she hesitated, he grinned at her. Water streaked his face. “Your choice. Piggyback or fireman’s carry. Me, I wouldn’t want to be facedown in this.”

  He made a good point.

  She gave in, and wrapping her arms loosely around his neck, she settled against his broad back. He was all heat and muscle.

  “Tell me you’ve done this before.” Didn’t rescue swimmers jump out of choppers? Did that even qualify him for this?

  “Too many times,” he laughed, though the humor quickly went out of his voice. “You don’t worry about that. I’ve got you.” He moved steadily across the road toward his Jeep and possibly the cabins.

  Before they could reach either destination, a sheet of rain slapped the surface of the water, sending a wall of spray right at them.

  6

  THE WALL OF brown, muddy storm water was no tsunami, but Daeg estimated the crest at six feet, giving him almost no clearance and putting Dani underwater. He’d lose his footing when that huge wave slammed into him, which meant they’d be free-floating. Determining the mission here was simple—he must get Dani to safety. Now.

  Behind them, her car shifted. It wasn’t safe. He’d been in numerous rescue situations where conditions had changed in the blink of an eye. One minute everything was going well, and the next—it was all shot to nothing. This was not going to be one of those times.

  He summoned whatever strength he still had left. This was for Dani.

  He’d jumped out of helicopters where two hundred feet below the water was frigid and worse than choppy. Every second had brought another gust of wind hitting hard, driving the hovering bird to one side and then the other. Those extreme conditions demanded that a man push himself to his limits. This storm was nothing in comparison. Except he knew the person needing rescue. Dani wasn’t another anonymous victim.

  Focus. This was just one more mission. In. Out. And over.

  “Incoming,” he grunted. “Hang tight.”

  Her head jerked, tracking the bounding wave. “Oh, no.”

  Yeah. She saw what he saw. Somewhere just north of them, a stream had escaped the banks and the resulting flash flood was also about to hit.

  He moved fast, muscles screaming for oxygen as he one-twoed it against the hard pull of the current. Between the rain and fading daylight, visibility wasn’t good. Maybe ten seconds and all that water would reach them. Focus.

  The world telescoped to the chew of the sludge, ocean water and everything that had been caught in its path. Daeg forced himself through the water; failure was not an option.

  “No, wait,” she protested. “Maybe there’s another way.”

  They were out of time, whether Dani realized it or not. Instincts honed by tours of duty with navy search and rescue screamed for action. Whatever it took to get that survivor out of danger and up to safety, he’d do. He wouldn’t abandon that training today of all days.

  Daeg’s military training had been brutal, every move repeated until it became instinctive. Because sometimes, if you had to stop and think through your next steps, you ran out of time and risked not just your safety, but everyone else’s.

  “I’ve got the way,” he spat, pushing himself forward. The muscles of his thighs screamed in protest. “You’re looking at it.”

  His next scan of the rising wave showed it was closing in fast. He eyeballed the remaining distance to the Jeep, but covering those twenty yards in three seconds was going to be impossible.

  “Do not,” he said fiercely, planting his feet and turning them sideways, “let go. No matter what. Take a deep breath and hold it. Less than thirty seconds, okay?”

  He wasn’t leaving anyone behind ever again. Focus.

  He covered her hand with his, sealing her fingers to his jacket when she would have relaxed her hold. The wave would hit him first. Hopefully, he’d take the brunt of whatever was in it. “Don’t you dare let go.”

  “No worries, soldier.” Her voice jolted him back to the present, and then the water struck.

  * * *

  COLD, EVEN THOUGH it was June. That was her first thought. The water pulled at her, rushing over her face, distorting her senses. She had just enough time to process the shock of
fear before the water moved on and then surged back. Count. Five seconds down, twenty-five to go. At fifteen, though, she had to inhale, and the water burned down her nose and throat, her body coughing and gagging instinctively. This was what it would be like to drown.

  Hold on. He dragged her above the water and she sucked in air.

  Behind them, her car jolted, and the rain was pelting down, beating a loud staccato rhythm on the brown, frothy churn.

  Her car floated away effortlessly as a new wave smashed into the vehicle. It sent the car into dizzying circles, like a child’s toy, before the water pushed it into a road sign, sending it out to sea. She didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if she’d been inside the vehicle.

  She tightened her grip on Daeg’s shoulders.

  Something struck them. She didn’t see what it was, but the impact drove him backward. She could hear his grunt of pain and another. He was off-balance, so she tried to slide off his back and lighten his load.

  “Stay,” he ordered.

  “I’m a liability.” She tugged hard, but he wouldn’t let go of her wrists. He was so strong. Capable. Those were good things, she repeated to herself as the water buffeted them. If she had to be out here, she was glad he was here with her.

  Then the wave was gone as fast as it had come. Daeg released her, and as she stood there, waist deep in water with rain lashing her face, her eyes locked on their salvation some twenty yards away. The Jeep had never looked so good. She’d take any sanctuary, however temporary, right now.

  “You’ve got to listen to me,” he snapped.

  He was angry, and that was fine with her. His tone stoked her own ire, and the anger was a welcome change from the fear.

  “I know how to take care of myself.” His look said that she wasn’t fooling him. Under other circumstances, she’d have taken umbrage at that arrogant response but, unfortunately, he was right.

  “Great,” she muttered and started slogging toward the Jeep.

  “Hey,” he said, snagging her arm and pulling her to a halt. “You remember what the motto of the navy rescue swimmers is?”

  She narrowed her eyes. Right now, she just wanted out of the wet. Dry and safe sounded really good. “I’m sure you’re going to remind me.”

  “So Others May Live. Now, you do exactly what I tell you and you’ll be safe. Right now, we’re going over to the Jeep and then we’ll assess.”

  “Aye, aye.”

  She didn’t need his alpha-male attitude. If this wasn’t so life-and-death, she’d have told him so.

  He took a step and winced. As he lurched to his left, a hissing breath came from between his teeth.

  That wasn’t a good sign. “You okay?”

  Daeg was prickly, all intent on rescuing her, but she had to ask. Because the sudden lines on either side of his mouth indicated pain.

  “I’ve been worse,” he replied.

  “But—” How much worse was worse? She knew men. Impale them with a caber and the injury was just a pesky splinter. Daeg was acting all “move along” and “there’s nothing to see here,” but she wasn’t convinced.

  “I’m fine,” he repeated, and she shelved the conversation in favor of picking up the pace. Apparently, he got to take care of her, but not vice versa. Arguing about that pigheaded decision would be better done somewhere dry. And safe.

  She snuck a peek at his emotionless face—he seemed rather unshakeable, despite their recent run-in with that large something, and the worst of all storms unloading on their heads. Too bad she couldn’t act as unconcerned.

  He shook his head. “You can’t force the door since the water’s too high. You’d only flood the Jeep. We’ve got better odds—”

  “Odds of what?” Odds, she understood. Odds made sense. Either something was likely to happen—or it was not.

  “Getting back in one piece?” He didn’t sound like he was joking. “Okay, then,” he said. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’ll get you into the Jeep via the window. Then, I’ll get in. Easy. Window’s rolled down, waiting for us, and then we make tracks nice and slow.”

  “The road’s full of water.”

  “The side of the road, then.”

  “Okay.” Her fingers gripped his arm again. “We can’t stay here. I know that.”

  “Not unless you really got a yen for an outdoor campout on top of a Jeep,” he teased. He pointed to his shoulders. “Grab on to me and I’ll hoist you up.”

  “Got it.”

  She was completely on board with that plan. The sooner they got out of here, the better. He gestured impatiently, and she obediently slid her arms around his neck so that she was plastered up against him. And—wow. Maybe it had been too long since she’d had sex because that simple contact of her skin on his was incredible. His shoulders were as strong and capable as the rest of him, and the front of him was pretty darn enjoyable, as well.

  His dark eyes focused on her as if this was all in a day’s work. Which it probably was for him, she noted. She was the only one feeling the tension here.

  “On three. One. Two.” His hands slid beneath the backs of her thighs and she was pretty sure she gasped. “Three.”

  He lifted and her feet left the ground. She was briefly cradled against him, and then he deftly slid her through the window, planting her butt on the passenger-side seat with brisk efficiency.

  He limped around the Jeep, positioned his hands securely on the frame and dragged himself up onto the edge of the open window. Yes, he was superbly male and no, he was not okay. Despite the rain and the gloomy, late-afternoon light, she had no problem making out the six-inch tear in his camo pants. Worse, the skin beneath was clearly torn up and bleeding.

  Daeg was definitely hurt.

  * * *

  BREATHE IN. BREATHE out. Whatever had struck his leg had only complicated an already complicated situation. He focused himself and did his best to work through the pain. Yeah. He had maybe two good minutes before the damaged leg locked up and he was of no use to anyone. He should have moved faster. Led with his good leg.

  Curling his hands around the driver’s seat, he pulled himself through the open window. Even that last movement was enough to send fire shooting through his knee.

  His thigh.

  And a half dozen assorted muscles.

  Maybe the military doc had been right about taking it easy. Man, he hated how his body refused to work right. The first accident had wiped out years of training in seconds, and he got the nasty feeling that today’s rescue had undone all the progress he’d made in the past few weeks. Being weak was unacceptable.

  Female hands on his back guided him down, controlling his fall into the seat some. White-hot agony tore through his thigh as he tried to settle himself. He’d feel better in a minute. All he had to do was breathe through this.

  And not pass out.

  He reached to turn the key in the ignition and realized he had another problem. The Jeep had a standard shift. Putting the vehicle into gear and then shifting was going to hurt like crazy. If he could do it at all. A flashback from that last rescue job gone bad jarred him. The relentless water. The long ladder down but no swimmer ascending. Lars’s body vanishing beneath a wave. No. He needed to do this, and do it right. He flexed his leg tentatively and, yeah, that definitely hurt.

  He’d live, though.

  Dani shifted and he reminded himself she wasn’t used to this kind of situation—she was cold and wet. And scared. She simply didn’t have the physical strength to make it through that water, so he needed to find somewhere close to take her. Maybe they could wait out the storm where they were—if he pulled off-road more, though she’d still be uncomfortable and that wasn’t ideal. He needed to get her out of this, where she could get out of those clothes. Warm her up some.

  Dani watched him calmly.
She looked like a drowned rat. A really, really cute drowned rat. He debated pulling her closer and tucking her inside his jacket, but settled instead for pulling it off and draping it around her shoulders.

  Come on, soldier.

  A second car floated by them and she sucked in a breath.

  “You know that one?” he asked.

  She nodded, her damp hair brushing against his jaw. “From up at the cabins.”

  “Owner still there?” If there were passengers trapped in the upside-down wreck...he’d do what he could to help them.

  “No,” she answered. “They went into town earlier.”

  The cabins it was, he decided. He couldn’t see them from his current spot, which meant he’d be aiming blind and visibility was dropping fast. The sun would be setting somewhere above the storm clouds soon. Dani shivered and those protective instincts of his kicked in again.

  “What do we do? How much longer can this storm last?” Her hand lunged for his forearm as a large tree branch slammed into the side of the Jeep.

  “I have you,” he reassured her. “And I’m not letting go.”

  But that didn’t answer her question.

  Long enough to do a lifetime’s worth of damage.

  The last weather report he’d heard had the eye of the storm still eight hours out. It was going to get a lot worse before it got better. Coming to a decision, he said, “I’ll drive us up to the cabins.”

  She looked out the window again, as if she was hoping things had improved. “That’s a lot of water.”

  “The Jeep can handle it.” Just. “How far were you from the cabins when you pulled over?”

  She thought for a moment. “I’d been driving maybe ten minutes. No more than a mile.” Dani was good with details and he could hear her gaining confidence as she crunched the numbers. Numbers were familiar territory for her—as driving through floodwaters was for him. He could get them one mile. Two would be a problem, but he’d figure it out if her estimate was off.

  “You’re not okay,” she observed. Her eyes dropped to his thigh and he fought the urge to cover up the injury. It was too late for misdirection. She knew.