by The Witness
They strained together, driven by a need neither understood nor expected. It was instinctive, desperate, irresistible. Primal.
The flare of fierce emotions burned bright for several seconds, but gradually the kiss forged into something deeper, stronger—a hot and searing pleasure so intense it took Lauren's breath away and made her feel as though her bones were melting.
She clung to Sam and returned the kiss with a simmering passion that matched his, even while on some distant level she was shocked and appalled by what was happening.
This was the last thing she had expected—or wanted, she told herself. Sam didn't even like her, for Pete's sake. Nor did she care much for him, except in a purely practical way. He was, after all, an excellent man to have on your side in a crisis. But he was also hard and cold and distant, even downright unfriendly, and his opinion of her was about as low as it could get.
Yet...she could not summon the will to stop what was happening. The pleasure was too great, the need too compelling.
Sam groaned. He felt as though his world had suddenly shifted on its axis. Nothing was as it should be, and he had a hunch that it might never be again. That possibility terrified him.
The kiss had been an impulse, one of those things that just happens before you can stop it. Borne out of anger, it should have been a punishment, even an insult for Lauren, and nothing more than a meaningless encounter for him, but it was none of those things. The feel of her, the softness of her lips, the sensations he was experiencing, all rocked him to his soul and left him weak and shaken...and desperate for more.
This was insane, he told himself, as his tongue mated with hers. They were in a tight spot. There was no time for this. They had to make tracks out of here, fast.
Even as the thoughts went through his mind he deepened the kiss, unable to resist her mouth or the extravagant sensations that throbbed between them.
Finally, though, common sense prevailed, and from somewhere he found the strength to pull away. Their lips clung, parting with exquisite slowness as he raised his head.
Except for their heaving chests, neither moved. Sam's dark eyes fixed on Lauren and narrowed. Damn. She looked sexy as hell, her face relaxed and flushed, her lips a bit swollen and still wet from his kiss. He winced when he noticed that around her mouth her delicate skin was red and abraded from his beard.
They were both breathing heavily, their breath mingling between them in a white fog. Through the mist, Sam watched her eyelids flutter open. She gazed up at him, her green eyes still clouded with passion and slightly out of focus. The sight nearly drove Sam over the edge again. He ground his teeth and waited.
"Why—" Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat and licked her lips. Sam had to stifle a groan. "Why did you do that?" she whispered.
He stared at her for a long time. Finally he shrugged. "I had to shut you up someway."
Even before all the words had left his lips he regretted the comment. Hurt flashed in her eyes, and Sam cursed silently. He could have kicked himself, though a part of him accepted that it was probably for the best. Even if she wasn't Carlo's mistress, she was still a witness and his responsibility. He had no business touching her.
He watched the passion fade from her eyes and her mouth tighten. Before she could lash out again he rolled off of her and sat up. "Let's get going. We've wasted enough time already."
"Why you insufferable—"
Lauren scrambled to her feet, only to have Sam grab her arm and jerk her back down again.
"Wha—-?
"Just shut up and stay down," Sam commanded in a gruff voice, shoving her roughly down, flat on her belly. Keeping his hand clamped around the back of her neck, he ignored her squirming and held her in place and flattened himself in the snow beside her.
Lauren sputtered and spit snow out of her mouth and swiped the icy globs off her face. "What do you think you're doing?" she snarled. "Let go of me."
Ignoring her struggles, he raised his head cautiously and peered over the edge of the drop-off. "You think I worry for nothing? Take a look down there. That's the reason we made this climb."
Releasing her, Sam slid one arm out of the backpack and scrounged inside for the binoculars while Lauren raised her head and peeked over the side.
Far below, three armed men eased out of the woods and moved cautiously into the clearing.
"Still think they're here to rescue us?"
"Okay, so they're carrying rifles. That doesn't mean they're the bad guys," Lauren insisted, but the uneasiness in her voice came through all the same.
"Just watch and see what they do." Looping the binocular strap around his neck, Sam raised the glasses and scanned from one man to the next. They had on ski masks and their parka hoods were up. Identifying any of them from that distance and angle was impossible.
The leader signaled to the other two, and they spread out across the small clearing. Crouched low, they moved with stealth toward the cabin, weapons ready.
At the cabin they pressed their backs to the log walls on either side of the door. The leader again gave a hand signal, and he and the man on the other side of the door rushed inside. Instantly the sound of automatic weapon fire erupted.
Lauren gave a startled cry and jumped back, unconsciously scooting closer to Sam. "Oh my God!"
The staccato sound went on for several seconds. Sam's eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned into a grim line. The bastards were spraying the inside of the cabin with bullets. If he and Lauren had been inside they wouldn't have had a chance.
The shooting stopped as quickly as it began. Seconds later the men came back outside. They scanned the clearing again, then huddled together for a discussion. After a few minutes they spread out and began searching the ground for tracks.
Lauren lowered her head and buried her face against her crossed arms, shuddering. "They found me. Even here, in the middle of nowhere. Oh God, they're going to kill us."
"Like hell they are."
"Oh, right. And just how are you going to stop them?"
"For starters, we're going to outrun them. It'll take them a while to find our trail. They will, eventually, but by then we'll have gained more time. There's no place between here and the crash site for that chopper to land and pick them up, so those three will either climb up after us or hike back to the chopper and hunt us from the air. Either way, by then we'll have a couple of hours lead on them, and we're going to make the most of it. If we can beat them back to civilization, we can shake them. So, c'mon, let's go."
"Hunt us from the air!" Lauren squeaked. "Dear Lord, we won't have a chance!"
Ignoring her, Sam scooted backward through the snow a few feet until he was far enough from the edge of the cliff that he was out of sight of the men below. Sitting up, he scowled at Lauren as he untied his snowshoes from his backpack. "C'mon, get over here and put those snowshoes on. Let's go, let's go!"
She did as he ordered, simply because she had no other choice. "This is hopeless. We're going to be sitting ducks if they come after us in the helicopter."
"Not really. Spotting someone from the air is a lot more difficult than it looks. We'll keep to the trees, and when we hear the chopper coming we'll dive for cover."
Sam knelt on one knee, then the other as he wound the lacings over and around his boots. "Anyway, they won't be able to sustain an aerial search for long. These mountains are too remote and that chopper's fuel capacity isn't that great. The pilot will probably do a sweep or two, then head back to base and leave the others to track us on foot. I'm sure they came prepared for the possibility."
He stood and stomped his feet to test the bindings. Lauren finished tying hers and did the same. Sam watched her, and when he was satisfied he turned and headed for the thick stand of fir trees that blanketed the bench of land and most of the mountain slopes below ten thousand feet. "C'mon. Let's go."
"Go where? If they found us here, they can find us anywhere."
He stopped and looked back, fixing her with that inscrut
able stare that sent little tingles dancing along her spine. "Don't make the mistake of crediting Carlo with more power than he has. He's a mob boss who controls a small army of thugs. That makes him a dangerous man, but he's not omnipotent. The only reason his men found us is because we have at least one agent in the Denver office who's on Carlo's payroll. Maybe more."
"What! You knew this? Then how on earth did you think you could keep me safe?"
"Besides myself and Dave, only four others knew about you. Four trusted agents who I thought were clean. I was wrong. At least one of those four is dirty."
Just saying that out loud made Sam's gut clench. Dammit, he would have trusted every one of those men with his life. Even Harvey.
"How did they—?"
"We don't have time for this discussion right now. You have a right to know what's going on, and I'll answer your questions later, but right now it's time to get the hell outta Dodge."
"What's the point? They'll find us, somehow. There's no safe place to hide."
"I know a place. Trust me, Lauren. I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe. I won't let anyone hurt you. You have my word on that."
"Ah, yes, how could I forget? You need me to make your case against Mr. Giovessi, don't you?"
"There is that," he answered finally. "But now it's personal, too."
"You mean because they almost killed you, too, while trying to eliminate me?"
"No. That's part of the risk you take when you sign on as an agent." He stared at her, unblinking. "For what it's worth, I wasn't honest with you before. I didn't kiss you to shut you up. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I've been wanting to ever since the moment I first saw you."
He turned and walked away toward the woods, leaving her standing speechless, staring after him with her jaw hanging open.
She was so stunned she couldn't move, or even think at first. Then he disappeared into the woods, and she jolted. "No, wait! Wait!"
She might as well have saved her breath. Sam ignored her and forged on at a pace just under a trot. Lauren hurried after him as fast as she could, almost tripping several times in the awkward snowshoes before she caught the rhythm.
She followed along behind him, her gaze drilling a hole through the back of his parka. Darn him. He was the most aggravating, enigmatic man. How could he make such an astounding statement, then turn and walk off?
He hadn't meant it. Of course he hadn't. She'd figured out that much. He'd just said that to snap her out of the despondent mood she'd sunk into and get her mind off of those men.
The devil of it was, it had worked.
Lauren narrowed her eyes and glared at his back. Oh, you're good, Rawlins. Very clever.
Sam set a grueling pace. He broke into a run wherever he could, eating up the ground with that awkward, side-to-side, rocking hop and making it look easy.
For Lauren, just keeping up took tremendous effort and concentration. She had to take three or four steps to every two of his, thanks to the difference in their sizes.
Added to that, it was bitter cold, and getting colder. Lauren's breathing quickly grew rough and rapid, her lungs working furiously. With every raspy breath they burned like fire.
Sam didn't stop. When she gasped that she needed water he merely passed the canteen back to her and kept going without breaking stride.
Before long Lauren forgot about Sam's stunning statement. She forgot about the men who were tracking her. She forgot about the cold and the unforgiving wilderness all around them. Her entire focus centered on putting one foot in front of the other as quickly as possible without tripping herself.
Lauren had believed that she was in good physical condition, but after almost two hours of the relentless pace, she was exhausted. Positive she had reached the end of her rope, she opened her mouth to protest that she couldn't move another step when they heard the distinctive whop-whop-whop-whop-whop of a helicopter approaching.
Halting, Sam swung around and held out his hand to her. "Here they come! C'mon! C'mon! Hurry!"
It was amazing what fear and adrenaline could do. Lauren trailed him by about twenty feet, but she shot forward as though she were rocket-powered, her fatigue forgotten. The instant she was within reach Sam grabbed her hand. He jerked her to the ground, wrapped his arms around her and rolled them beneath the low hanging branches of the nearest fir tree.
When they came to a stop against the trunk, Lauren lay on her back with Sam sprawled on top of her. He raised his head and listened. "Here it comes!" he shouted in her ear. Then he lowered his head and did his best to cover her completely with his body.
The helicopter grew steadily closer until it was about a hundred feet directly above them. The noise was deafening. Overhead the tree they were under and all the surrounding ones swayed in the rotor wash and dumped snow.
Clutching Sam's back, Lauren closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer. It seemed to her that the craft hovered over them for a few seconds. Expecting to feel bullets ripping through her flesh at any second, she held her breath.
The impression must have been a trick of nerves, because the chopper continued on in a zigzagging course, clearly still searching.
Sam and Lauren remained absolutely still, clutching each other tightly and listening to the engine noise fade into the distance. When it was no more than a soft rumble, Sam raised his head, listening.
"Do you think they're gone?" Lauren murmured.
"For now." He looked down at her. "You okay?"
"Yes, I...I'm okay. A little shaken, but at least I'm still alive. We both are."
"Yeah," he agreed in a throaty murmur.
In an instant, everything changed.
Adrenaline ran high, and the taut quiet that surrounded them still quivered with danger and anxiety, yet with that one word awareness sparked between them like arcing electricity.
Sam's dark eyes roamed slowly over Lauren's face, and when his gaze met hers she felt her heart skip a beat. The crackling current sizzled between them, skipped along her nerve endings, making them jump and tingle.
She became conscious of the intimacy of their position, that Sam still lay stretched out on top of her, that their faces were so close she could feel his warm breath on her face, see, for the first time, the slightly darker pupils at the centers of his black eyes, see each stubby hair of his emerging beard, each individual eyelash that rimmed his midnight-black eyes.
See the heat in those ebony depths.
A thrilling little shiver rippled through Lauren.
Sam's broad-shouldered torso completely covered her much smaller one, pressing her deep into the snow. Even through their bulky parkas she became suddenly, acutely aware of the differences in their bodies—Sam's big, whipcord lean and tough. And utterly male. Hers small and soft and delicate.
Her heart beat in her chest like a wild thing, and through the layers of down and padding she could feel his thundering a deep counterpoint rhythm.
His gaze locked with hers—searching, intense, hot. Lauren could not have looked away had her life depended on it. Raw desire that he made no effort to hide tautened his rough-chiseled face beneath the stubble.
Trembling, Lauren stared back. So many emotions tangled inside her, tightening her chest and clogging her throat. She could barely breathe.
They were stretched out in deep snow, and the thin mountain air around them was so cold it was almost crystalline, yet her body felt flushed and hot, feverish.
Sam's gaze dropped to her parted lips. She saw the pulse in his temple jump, and so did her heart.
"Sa-Sam...we...that is...."
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.
Surprise shot through her, and immediately her brain scrambled. "I..." Staring at him, wide-eyed, she exhaled a shuddering breath and circled her dry lips with the tip of her tongue.
His gaze zeroed in on the tiny action, and she saw his pupils flare. Then his eyelids grew heavy, and his head tilted to one side.
Lauren's heart took off on a s
nare drumroll, and as his head began a slow descent her own eyelids fluttered shut and a sigh fluttered through her parted lips.
Sam's mouth had barely touched hers when his head jerked back and he went taut and still.
"What—?" Lauren began, but before she could express her shock and hurt she heard the ominous sound. "Oh dear God. They're coming back! They did see us."
"Be still," he ordered when she tried to scramble out from under him in full-blown panic. Raising up on one elbow, he flattened his other hand across her chest to hold her in place and looked up, his head cocked, listening.
The noise came closer and the trees began to sway, and Lauren cringed, but the chopper passed overhead without pause.
Sam looked down at her, his face stern and commanding. "Don't move until I tell you." He waited for her agreement, and when she merely continued to stare up at him, he raised both eyebrows. "Understand?"
She nodded and swallowed hard. "Ye-yes."
He studied her a moment longer, then nodded. He rolled off of her and shrugged off the backpack.
Squirming on his belly, he moved to the outer edge of the overhanging, pulled the rifle off his shoulder and peered out through the branches. He raised the binoculars he still wore around his neck and tracked the craft. "It's okay. They're just searching in a crisscross grid. When they found our trail, they probably calculated approximately how far ahead of them we were, and they're searching a radius of that distance in every direction. They can't keep it up for long, though. Soon they'll be too low on fuel and have to head back to base. All we have to do is sit tight and wait them out."
"Thank God." Lauren closed her eyes with heartfelt relief. "If they have to give up the search we'll be safe. There won't be anyone hunting us down to kill us."
"Not quite." Sam lowered the binoculars and looked over his shoulder at her. "There are only two men in that chopper."
"Two? But you saw..."
"Right. There were five men at the wreckage. That means there are now three tracking us on foot."
