by Susan Cliff
What if a wild animal wandered in?
What if one tried to get out?
“Here,” he said, splaying his legs. She settled between them, her back against his front. He put his arms around her. He was wet, but warm. His heartbeat pounded in a strong, steady rhythm. Fast, but not too fast, like hers. He was alert, rather than panicked. That was comforting. She could count on him to stay calm even when she was freaking out.
“What’s that smell?” she asked. “Rats?”
“Bats.”
Ugh. The hairs at her nape prickled at the thought of them flapping around her curls. Their nasty little teeth and leathery wings. At least the cave was free of mosquitos. She’d die of rabies, instead of malaria. “Can you make a fire?”
“Not without dry wood.”
She tried not to squirm around too much, but she was uncomfortable. The ground was hard against her sore bottom. She was hungry and thirsty.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Where do you live?”
“I lived in San Francisco, until recently. I left a few months after I broke up with Andrew. It seemed better to make a fresh start. Right now I’m staying at my parents’ house in Long Beach.”
“I still live with my parents.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. I’m overseas a lot, and they have a guest house. It works out.”
“Where is it?”
“Del Mar. It’s a suburb of San Diego.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“Born and raised.”
Her grandparents lived in San Diego. She was stranded on a deserted island with a fellow Southern Californian. What were the odds?
“Did you grow up in Long Beach?” he asked.
“Close. Irvine. My parents moved because my mom got a job offer there. She’s a high school principal.”
“A principal and a cop for parents?”
“Sounds fun, right?”
“Were you a rebellious teenager?”
“Not really. Were you?”
“Nah. I was a mama’s boy. Still am.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty. You?”
“Twenty-seven.”
He grunted in response, shifting his injured knee.
“Am I hurting you?”
“You’re fine,” he said gruffly. “You should try to get some sleep.”
“What will we do tomorrow?”
“Find water. Make a fire. Build a shelter.”
She groaned at his overzealous to-do list.
“The beach isn’t far. Tomorrow will be an easier day.”
“I doubt there will be any easy days on this island.”
“Maybe not, but we’ll live.”
“You sound confident.”
“I am.”
“Have you ever failed at anything?”
He didn’t answer. When silence stretched between them, she realized this was a touchy subject. More painful than his busted knee, perhaps. She wondered if he’d failed to complete a mission, or failed to protect someone.
“I should have thanked you for saving me,” she said.
His arms tightened around her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s a big deal,” she insisted. “You risked your life.”
“It was the least I could do,” he said. “You got kidnapped while you were with me. Because you were with me.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“I convinced you to leave the bar.”
She hadn’t needed much convincing. She flushed a little, remembering how uninhibited she’d been. How she’d devoured his mouth in the hallway. “I wouldn’t have done the same if our situations were reversed. I wouldn’t have started swimming after you.”
“I’m trained for combat and water rescue. You’re not.”
She didn’t think it was only a matter of training. He was a hero by nature. She wasn’t. She’d been frozen with fear during the attack, and for hours after. The same thing had happened when she’d witnessed her grandfather’s death. She’d been catatonic, unable to move or speak. Unable to help.
She wasn’t calm in emergency situations. She didn’t like taking risks, or stepping out of her comfort zone. Whenever she did, she regretted it. This situation was a prime example. Her first attempt at a one-night stand had resulted in her kidnapping. It couldn’t get any worse than that! She didn’t embrace danger, like Logan. As grateful as she was to be under his protection, his presence set off major emotional warning bells for her.
She had to be careful with him. She was still trying to move on from her last romantic disaster. He was clearly a no-strings type, and a magnet for adoring females. He’d caught the eye of every woman on the cruise. She couldn’t afford to get attached.
But keeping her distance wasn’t an option, so she pushed aside her misgivings and settled against him. He made a warm, steady wall behind her. She felt safe in his arms. Although the chemistry between them was still there, she wouldn’t act on it. They weren’t going to finish what they’d started on the dance floor.
That ship had sailed—literally.
Their almost-hookup had been a once-in-a-lifetime thing. A perfect storm of physical attraction and opportunity that couldn’t be re-created. Even if she’d wanted to take the risk, there was nothing remotely sexy about their current situation. They were in a bat-infested cave. She was covered in mud. So was he.
She closed her eyes, determined to ignore the exciting male contours of his body, and the dull throb of cuts and bruises on her own. She tried not to worry about what might befall them tomorrow. He’d advised her to focus on the present, and think positive. Tonight they were alive. She was exhausted, but unharmed.
Then a dark blanket of fatigue settled over her, and she drifted off.
Chapter 7
Logan woke in the same condition as the day before, with one exception.
He’d grown accustomed to the dry mouth and nagging headache that had plagued him every morning. He was sore from lying on the hard ground. His stomach ached from emptiness. The only new development was an uncomfortable erection. Maybe he hadn’t been hydrated enough to pitch a tent until now. He’d been weak and nauseous from the concussion. Today he was back in full form, so to speak.
Cady’s proximity probably had something to do with it. She was curled up on her side next to him with her bottom snuggled against his crotch. There was no denying that she had a world-class ass. It was soft and supple and beautifully shaped. He had a vivid recollection of how those lush curves felt in his hands.
Damn.
Speaking of hands, his right one was cupping her left breast. She was smaller on top, but no less perfect.
Damn.
He smothered a groan and rolled onto his back, chagrined. He hadn’t meant to grope her in his sleep. His stomach clenched with unease. He waited for her to jump up and slap him silly. She stayed motionless, her chest rising and falling with even breaths.
She didn’t stir. She hadn’t felt it.
Inching away from her, he studied the interior of the cave with bleary eyes. Last night he’d imagined a gaping cavern of snakes and pitfalls. In reality, it was a shallow, abandoned bat nest. The walls had crumbled, leaving a pile of guano-covered rocks less than five feet from the entrance. There could be an intricate network beyond that, but the path was blocked. That was why this cave was empty, with vines covering the mouth.
Also, it smelled bad.
He rose to his feet with a wince. His knee was stiff, among other things. He lumbered toward the cave’s entrance and shoved aside the foliage. Light flooded the interior. Cady sat up and blinked at him owlishl
y. She looked like a forest sprite. Her hair was a tangled halo of dark curls with leaves in it.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was...invading your space.”
She rubbed her eyes. “What?”
“Never mind,” he muttered, and went out to water the nearest tree. She followed a moment later. He already had his pants unzipped, so he turned his back to obstruct her view. His knee buckled as he sidestepped. Cursing, he regained his balance.
She walked into the jungle and crouched behind a bush to do her own thing. By the time she returned to the front of the cave, he had his body under control. He didn’t ask how she’d slept, because he already knew. They’d both been awake half the night. She had dark circles under her eyes. Getting a good rest on hard ground was difficult, even for him. He needed to build a shelter today.
“How are you?” he asked.
She touched her throat. “Thirsty.”
“Your feet okay?”
“No, they hurt.”
He nodded, unsurprised. All of the hiking they’d done would slow the healing process. He knew she wanted him to be honest with her about the challenges they faced, but he was more concerned about keeping her morale up. There wasn’t much he could do for her cuts. With his bad knee, he couldn’t carry her.
“Do you want to stay here and rest?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Rest, in that hideous cave? I don’t think so.”
He smiled at her honesty. “As soon as we get to the beach you can take it easy.”
“How far is it?”
“Not far.”
“You have no idea, do you?”
“The island is only about five miles long. I think we’re close to the coast.”
She inclined her head east, toward the sunrise. “That way?”
“Yep.”
She gathered the extra fabric from her skirt to use as a shawl. As he collected his eggs and breadfruit and aloe plant, his stomach clenched with a sharp pain that surprised him. He’d been hungry before, but not like this. He’d never felt true hunger pangs.
“My stomach hurts,” she said.
“Mine, too. We’ll eat some more coconuts at the beach.”
They hiked all morning. The waterfall he’d spotted from the summit didn’t materialize. Neither did the white-sand beach he’d hoped to see. It was baking hot, with no breeze. The foliage that blocked out the sun also seemed to hold in heat. Sweat slicked his skin and tickled his mosquito bites. His damp shirt clung to his back.
In contrast, his throat felt like sandpaper. He was losing too much fluid to perspiration. Staying hydrated under these conditions was almost impossible.
Cady trudged along with a zombie-like stoicism that concerned him. Although she was stronger than he’d expected, he was afraid to push her too hard. When he found another cluster of liana vines, it was none too soon. She collapsed in the shade, her face pale. They drank until her color returned. Then they drank some more. She used the aloe on her lips, which were healing well. He did the same. His sunburn felt better. This environment was challenging, but it was nowhere near as harsh as the open ocean.
After a short rest, he stood and offered her a hand. She rose to her feet too quickly. Her lashes fluttered, and she swayed backward. He caught her before she fell, holding her upright. She didn’t faint, which was a good sign. She stared at him in surprise. His heart pounded against hers, half relieved, half...something else.
“I got light-headed,” she said.
“I can see that.”
She clung to him for a few seconds. Her fingers were curled around his biceps, her slim body pressed to his. He liked the way she felt in his arms, despite the circumstances. He’d liked the way she’d felt this morning, too.
“Okay now?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He released her slowly, struck by a wave of guilt. He was having a hard time keeping his hands off her, and his thoughts were completely inappropriate. She was weak from exhaustion. He should be taking better care of her.
His desire for her was awkward, but manageable. What really bothered him was the sense that he was letting her down. He was failing her, the same way he’d failed his comrade in Telskuf. If Logan hadn’t been injured, Hud would still be alive.
The loss of his teammate weighed heavily on Logan, and it made him feel even more protective of Cady. She was his team now, and she needed him to survive. She shouldn’t be hiking like this. He cursed himself for not being able to carry her. She could get heat exhaustion, and then they’d really be in trouble. There were a thousand ways to die here. She could contract dengue fever, or pick up a nasty intestinal bug. She could succumb to an infection, just from the cuts on her feet.
“I’m going to scout ahead,” he said.
“No,” she said, grasping his arm. “I can walk. Take me with you.”
He raked a hand through his hair, torn. She was afraid to be alone in the jungle, which was understandable, but he really needed to find the shore. He glanced around and spotted a seagull flying over the tops of the trees. They were close.
He nodded his agreement, and they started walking again. She seemed to have recovered from her dizzy spell. They followed the bird’s flight path to a clearing. From there he could see swaying palm trees, loaded with coconuts.
They’d made it. Thank God.
There was no gradual transition from inland to coast. The foliage just ended where the beach began. He stumbled forward and fell to his knees in the sand, basking in the change of scenery. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed fresh air and sunshine. The thick canopy had felt suffocating and oppressive.
This beach was paradise. Pure paradise.
It was all soft white sand and crystal-blue water. There were coconut palms for days. The tide pools promised a plethora of tasty seafood, and the underwater reef would offer even more. His chest swelled with emotion. He couldn’t see the waterfall from here, but a tall rock formation rose up in the distance like a monument of hope.
Cady didn’t stop on the dry sand. She raced straight into the surf and collapsed there, letting the gentle waves lap over her. He laughed at her antics, his spirits soaring. They were going to be all right.
He hadn’t allowed himself to feel relief until this moment. He also hadn’t dwelled on the dangers they’d faced so far. The days at sea had been dark, to say the least. The odds of arriving at an island like this were astronomical. He’d had brushes with death before, but they were the flash-bang kind, over in the blink of an eye. Slow starvation wasn’t his cup of tea. They were incredibly lucky to be alive.
He wanted to join her in the waves, fully clothed, but he couldn’t afford to get his fire-starting materials wet. So he shucked out of his pants and pulled his shirt over his head before he dove in. The water felt deliciously cool on his overheated skin. He submerged his entire body, getting his hair wet, rinsing away the dirt and sweat and jungle funk.
It was glorious.
She was right there with him, laughing and splashing around in the waves. He hadn’t seen her this happy since the night at the bar. She looked like a tropical goddess in her red dress, eyes dancing.
He drew her into his arms and kissed her. He couldn’t help himself. His relief overflowed, and his instincts took over. He pulled her on top of him and kissed her beautiful mouth. Then he rolled on top of her and did it again.
He didn’t put much thought into his actions. He just let his impulses take over and went along for the ride. They’d been through a lot together, and he felt a deep connection with her. He told himself it wasn’t even sexual—but he wouldn’t have done this with anyone else. He didn’t kiss his comrades after a successful mission. He didn’t grab random women and plant one on them when the mood struck.
She kissed him back with the same joyful ebullience, twisting her arms around
his neck. It was all innocent fun, as frothy as the foam-specked surf. She laughed into his mouth as a wave crashed over his back. Then the water around them bloomed bright red.
He lifted his head, his heart pounding. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She studied the cloud of crimson around them. “My dress is bleeding. It’s dry-clean only.”
He didn’t know dresses could bleed. The sight of red dye spreading across the water chilled him to the bone. It was like a portent of doom and a bad flashback rolled into one. He remembered the last time he’d seen a woman in a pool of blood. The interpreter’s wife, in Syria. That moment had been difficult for his entire team. They’d failed her.
Logan blinked away the memory, his gut clenched with unease. Cady resembled a shark attack victim, and he was on top of her. He didn’t believe in visions or premonitions, but he did believe in gut feelings. His gut told him that he was putting her at risk. He shouldn’t be touching her like this. He’d dropped the ball the night they’d met, and now here they were. He couldn’t repeat that mistake.
His behavior was also unbecoming of a SEAL. Hunger must have turned his brain into mush. He had to stop acting like a lovesick schoolboy and start acting like a professional. She was depending on him to keep her alive.
“Sorry,” he said in a stiff tone. “I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”
She stared at him in confusion, as if he’d turned into someone she didn’t recognize. Another wave struck, swirling her dress around her thighs. The wet fabric clung to her breasts, outlining every curve in exquisite detail.
He disentangled himself from her and rose to his feet, suddenly aware of his own attire. Water streamed down his body. He was soaked to the skin, and half aroused. His hand dropped to the front placket of his boxer shorts to make sure it was closed. Her gaze followed his motion. He adjusted himself and turned away, flushing.
Although the chemistry between them was red-hot, his excitement was more of a byproduct than a driving force. He hadn’t kissed her because she was sexy. He’d kissed her because he was overwhelmed with emotion. That had never happened to him before. It was an unexpected complication, but now he’d be on guard. Forewarned was forearmed. He’d squash whatever feelings needed to get squashed.
