by Elle James
“I get that part. What I want to know is why?”
Creed didn’t answer immediately as he stacked his tank on top of Emma’s, then removed his fins and laid them on a ledge over his head.
Free of the heavy, bulky tank, Emma slipped her fins off and handed them to Creed, who stowed them on top of his. She moved as far away from him as she could get without falling off the rock upon which they both were perched. Waves washed up to their feet, reminding her she didn’t have far to go to be sucked back through the opening of the cave. “Why are people trying to kill us? We didn’t do anything.”
“Maybe they think we did.”
Emma smacked a palm against his chest. “And maybe you can stop being so damned evasive and give me some straight answers. We almost got killed out there, and who knows how Dave is faring?”
One of the headlamps flickered, the light fading.
“Can we turn these off until we need them?” he asked instead of giving her the answers she demanded.
“Why? So you can hide your face while you lie to me some more?”
He touched a hand to her cheek. “No, so that we can conserve the battery. It’s going to be a long day and night.”
She hadn’t considered the length of their stay in the pirate’s cave until that moment. Then the enormity of it hit her. Not only were they trapped, but it would get colder, and all they had to keep them warm were their wet suits and their own body temperatures.
The light flickered again.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “Turn it off.”
Creed shut off the switch on the winking light.
As he reached for the other one, Emma braced herself for the lack of light.
She wasn’t prepared for the complete darkness. Each time she’d come to the cave with her father, they’d brought powerful flashlights and kept them on at all times.
Now, sitting in the dark with hours of the same to come, Emma shivered violently.
“Are you afraid of the dark?” he asked.
“N-no.” She hated that her voice shook along with her body.
Big hands reached for her, gripping her arms, dragging her closer.
For half a second, she resisted. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“We need to stay close to conserve body heat.”
The nurse in her knew he was right, but the woman was afraid, though not of the dark. She feared what the anonymity of darkness might lead to. Possibly a complete loss of inhibitions. Ultimately, the demise of the wall she’d built around her when Randy left her with the responsibility for the loss of funds for the hospital addition.
She wasn’t afraid of the dark, and she wasn’t afraid of Creed, so much as her own body’s reaction to his nearness in the dark. If she continued to give in to her lusty urges, the overwhelming need to be close to this man, she’d be right back where she was when Randy walked away with all the hospital’s money. Only this time it would be different. This time she’d know better. And this time her heart might be more affected.
Emma realized she’d never really been in love, not with Randy. Perhaps she’d been listening too much to her biological clock. While others around her, like Kayla and Gabe, were getting married and having babies, she’d felt life was passing her by. She wanted those things. To be loved, to get married and start a family.
Though her mother had died of cancer when Emma was only twelve, and her father in a car accident a year after she’d graduated with her bachelor of science in nursing, she’d had the best parents and the best childhood. Not all kids had the complete love and support she’d been privileged to have.
With no family left, she’d yearned for that closeness, someone to love. Sure, she had Moby, and he was her four-legged child, but she wanted what her parents had—a home, human children, someone to love and someone to love her in return. She missed being held in strong arms. Having someone else to share her joy and sadness.
Randy had promised all that to get what he’d wanted, and then broke his promises to her and the community she called home, leaving her to pick up the pieces and move on, guilt and all.
Creed had been heading down the same path, lying to her and the police from day one. She’d be damned if she let her lust for the man cloud her vision anymore.
“I’m only staying close to you because you’re right, it’s going to get cold and we have to share body warmth or die of exposure. But don’t think it means anything more than that.”
“Fair enough.”
She laid her head against his chest, appreciating the solid comfort it brought in the pitch-black of the cave. With the waves crashing relentlessly against the outside and spray reaching up to keep their legs damp and cold, the noise was continuous, almost lulling in its intensity. “Just for the record, I don’t trust you,” she added, her voice a husky whisper.
“I can live with that, as long as it keeps you alive.” He smoothed a hand over her arm, drawing her closer, raising her up so that her feet would remain above the spray of the waves blasting through the cave’s entrance.
“You haven’t been telling me the truth from the very beginning, have you?”
His hand stopped rubbing her arm, and he didn’t answer for so long that Emma thought he wasn’t going to. Then he said, “That is correct. I haven’t been telling you the truth.”
“Since we’re stuck in this cave for the night and might not make it out alive, now is the time to bare your soul.” She nestled closer. “Start talking, and give it to me straight this time.”
His chest rose and fell on a sigh. “Where should I start?”
“Start with who you really are.” Her hand rested on his wet suit. “And don’t feed me some crap about being an insurance adjuster. I’ve never met an insurance adjuster who stays in such good shape.” She could feel the strength of his muscles, even through the wet suit. Firm, solid. A warrior’s physique. “Battle ready.”
“You don’t think I could be an insurance adjuster?” He chuckled, the sound rumbling against her ear, warming her when she should be shaking with cold. “And I thought I was doing a good job with my cover.”
“Aha! I knew it.” She lifted her head and stared up at where his face should be, wishing she could read his expressions. When all she could see was black, she lay back against him, her fingers pressing into the insulated wet suit. “Tell me what’s going on, and don’t leave anything out. I think I’ve earned the right to know.”
* * *
Creed laid it all out for her, telling her everything he knew except names of his teammates and boss. Some things were best kept secret to avoid putting the members of his team in any kind of danger, from outright exposure to accidental slippage of information, or in the event someone thought the information was worth torturing for.
When he’d finished his tale with the rumors coming out of Washington, Emma had grown still, barely moving, and he couldn’t tell if she was actually breathing.
Several moments of silence passed before she spoke.
“Holy crap.” Her head shook back and forth against his chest. “And I was worried about finding the money for the new children’s wing. Heck, there might not even be a hospital left if what you say happens. Not that I’m fully convinced I should trust you.”
He chuckled. “Jury’s still out?”
“Damn right it is. I’ve been burned before. I won’t be burned again by believing everything I hear.”
“Hopefully, some of my team will be in Cape Churn by now, or soon, to corroborate my story. I expect Macias to start pushing for answers. I also suspect he was banking on us finding the cargo today and bringing it up. Thus the attack by jet boat.”
“But we didn’t.”
“And since we didn’t, he’ll be with his men looking for it himself. I imagine he’s on a tight timeline with the man he’s supposed to
be working with to pull off an attack of this magnitude.”
“Then he’s getting desperate.” Emma spoke softly, her breath warming his neck.
Creed’s arm tightened around her. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Who else would you have gotten to help? I’m the best diver in Cape Churn. I know these waters better than anyone.”
“I had the GPS tracking device attached to the yacht. I’d have found it.”
“You needed a boat, and Dave won’t take just anyone out to the point. It’s too dangerous to go without a dive partner.”
“Then I’m lucky I found you.” His arm tightened around her.
Emma stroked his wet suit, the gentle touches stirring a longing inside him he hadn’t known was there.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked.
“You’re getting out of this. Me and my team will deal with Macias. In fact, is there somewhere you can stay for a while? Away from Cape Churn. They know where you live, and Macias can be a formidable foe. If they think we know what their plans are...” He paused before voicing what had him most concerned.
“He’ll whack me?”
Creed burst out laughing. “‘Whack me’? Are we in some Hollywood mafia movie?”
“Well? What do you call it, then?”
“He’d murder you.” As he said the words, a cold chill raced the length of his spine, a cold so bitter it rivaled the North Pacific waters spitting across their legs.
“I could stay at the bed-and-breakfast,” Emma suggested.
“By now, they know I’m supposedly staying there. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been inside to check through my belongings.”
“God, I hope they haven’t broken into my house and hurt Moby, or let him loose. Once he’s loose, he likes to run and he’s not always smart enough to come home.” Emma pressed closer. “I hope Dave made it back okay.”
“Will Moby be all right on his own for a day?”
“If Dave made it back, he’ll let the police know what happened. Gabe will stop by my house. He’s watched out for Moby when I’ve gone out of town. And he has a spare key.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. Moby will scare the bad guys away, and Gabe will make sure he’s taken care of. All we need to do is concentrate on staying alive until we can get out of here and back to shore.”
“It’s not that far,” she whispered, her voice almost lost against the crashing waves and the wailing of the wind through crevices in the rocks. “Although right now, it feels like we might as well be on the moon.”
Creed held her tighter, trying to cocoon her body with his. Before long, she fell asleep, her breathing slowing and growing steady, her body limp against his.
Tired from being awake most of the night, Creed fought sleep for a while, thinking how ironic it was that he’d thought the rental SUV had been uncomfortable. Compared to the hard rocks digging into his back and legs, it was paradise.
He’d known tough times, tougher than this. BUD/S training had been as bad as it gets and he’d survived, earning the distinction of Badass of Hell Week. He’d come out strong, hungry and aching, but he’d never been prouder of his accomplishments.
He didn’t doubt he’d come out of this watery coffin of a cave intact. The storm would pass and they would swim out in the morning and find their way to shore. Then he’d get back down to that yacht and rip it apart until he found what Macias was looking for.
On the wave of his last thoughts, sleep overtook him. With Emma cradled in his arms, he slipped into a dream he knew couldn’t come true. One in which he and Emma lived in her little seaside house with its white picket fence. Several small children ran through the hallways squealing, chased by a rambunctious Moby, barking as he played with them.
Emma would be coming through the door in her scrubs after a day at the hospital, smiling and holding open her arms for him.
Yeah, it was a dream. Even in his sleep, Creed knew it could never be. He was a secret agent, on the go all the time, fighting to quell one terrorist plot after the other. What woman would want to be a part of that? Only a strong, well-grounded woman who understood what it was like to take pride in hard work and sacrifice and love of country.
Was that woman Emma? The woman he’d known for two days? She’d already proven she could hold up under difficult circumstances.
In his dreams he shut the door to his misgivings and immersed himself in the fantasy, lying naked in Emma’s bed with her snuggled close, her silky skin pressed against him. He’d make love to her in the middle of the day with the warm sunlight shining down on her body.
She’d wake up beside him on the days he was home and roll over him to stir him awake in more than one way. Her long, lean body, with curves in all the right places, would fit perfectly with his.
A plume sprayed high, drenching them in cold, salty seawater, jerking Creed out of his dreams. Although much like his fantasy, Emma lay curled against his side, her body completely covered by the thick insulated wet suit. Even if they’d wanted to, the logistics of their perch wouldn’t allow them to make love. They’d die of exposure if they removed the wet suits.
Creed took the wave’s spray as a slap back to reality. He couldn’t have a relationship with Emma, even if he wanted one. There would always be another terrorist and another assignment to save the world.
When he drifted back into a restless sleep, he dreamed of Phillip Macias standing before him, threatening Creed’s country and his SOS family if he didn’t back off. At first Creed told him to go to hell, that he didn’t kowtow to terrorist threats. Then Macias had his thugs drag a woman out of their vehicle and shove her to her knees.
Macias held a gun to the back of her head with one hand, and grabbed a handful of sandy-blond hair and yanked her head back, exposing her face.
Emma.
Chapter 8
Emma woke off and on all night long, readjusting her body to ease the kinks in her back and legs. Her entire body was cold and damp, her feet the coldest, having been doused most of the night by the plumes of spray erupting from the cave’s entrance, but she didn’t complain. Creed had to be even more uncomfortable considering he’d allowed her to use him as a pillow.
The pale light of day had found its way up through the cave entrance, turning the sand into glitter at Emma’s feet.
“Sleep well?” Creed asked.
“Probably better than you did.” She shivered. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this cold for so long, though.”
“The only way to warm up is to get moving.” He reached for the tanks. “We might have a few minutes of air left on each. Let’s get out of this cave and find our way back to the mainland.”
“I’m in.” Emma helped fit his tank into the straps on the back of his BCD and turned to let him adjust hers. After settling their masks over their faces, strapping their fins on their feet and conducting a quick equipment check, Emma gave Creed a thumbs-up.
Then she eased down the rocky ledge to the sand and water below. The cold seemed to go right through her wet suit to her bones, making her shiver so hard her teeth chattered. She plugged her regulator between them and dove through the cave entrance, following the light to emerge outside in a pale green world.
Still shaking, she hovered, waiting for Creed. When he cleared the cave and swam up beside her, she headed for the surface as she took the final breath of air from her tank.
When she breached the surface, she spit her regulator out, dragged her mask down from her face and sucked in a long, cool breath of fresh air. She darted a look around, praying the bad guys from yesterday hadn’t come looking for them today.
Still in the midst of a sea of rocky protrusions, she couldn’t see beyond to the bay. She bobbed in the gentle swells, weighing their options.
Creed emerged be
side her, slipped his mask off his eyes and removed the regulator from his mouth. “Which way?”
“We can try to swim back to the point, but the swells might make it twice as long a trip than if we get out of this mess and swim back into the open.”
“The difference of how much time?”
“Knowing Dave, he’ll be back out here looking for us by now. He might even have the coastguard alerted, as well.”
“Macias won’t attempt a hit if there are too many people around. Let’s head for the opening.” Creed shifted his snorkel around on his mask and settled the mouthpiece between his teeth. Emma did the same and they swayed back through the rocks, keeping far enough away from them to avoid being smashed up against them. Even in the calmer seas, the swells slapped against the rocks.
Tired, cold and hungry, Emma didn’t have the extra strength needed to fight the currents. As they neared the open bay, she slowed, her gaze darting all around, fully expecting a jet boat to come barreling down on top of them.
Instead, she spotted a coastguard schooner at the tip of the point and a smaller fishing boat closer to where they were. The fishing boat wove in and out of the rocks. When it got close enough, Emma could see Dave in the driver’s seat. She lifted her whistle from around her neck and blew on it sharply several times.
Already on the lookout, it didn’t take long for Dave to spot them and pull up alongside. He killed the engine and ran to the back of the boat, extending the metal ladder into the water. “Am I glad to see you two.”
“Not as glad as we are to see you,” Emma said, swimming for the ladder.
Creed helped Emma out of her BCD, tank and all, and handed it up to Dave.
Emma ducked her head into the water and slipped her feet out of her fins, tossing them up over the side onto the boat. Then she hauled herself up the ladder, the effort seeming harder than usual. Dave handed her a large beach towel and helped her out of her wet suit while Creed removed his fins and climbed aboard with his tank still on his back.
Once Emma was wrapped in the warm, dry towel, she hunkered down on a seat, as much out of the cool breeze as possible. “Did the jet boat come after you again?” she asked Dave.
