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Dangerous Attraction Romantic Suspense Boxed Set (9 Novels from Bestselling Authors, plus Bonus Christmas Novella from NY Times Bestselling Author Rebecca York)

Page 86

by Kaylea Cross


  They paused in front of a huge set of wooden doors. Her mom knocked, opened it, and looked inside. Her shoulders sagged. “Oh, he isn’t here yet. We should probably wait outside.”

  “Who?” Axelle snuck beneath her arm and peeked. Only faint light filtered through the window shutters, but even so she spied a tray of fresh cream cakes and a pitcher of ice-cold water. She let go of her mother’s hand and slipped inside the room.

  “Oh, I suppose we can wait in here.” Her mom looked at the Swatch watch Axelle had given her for Christmas. “How ironic that I’m actually early for once.” She laughed but it didn’t sound happy.

  Anxiety worked its way through Axelle’s body and made her uneasy.

  Her dad was always complaining that her mom tried to make him late on purpose. Last time, he’d left his wife behind in a huff and they’d later had a huge row. Axelle didn’t want to think about it.

  Her tummy rumbled. She was starving. “Can I have a cake, mommy? Please?” There were bright couches and paintings on the wall, but the only thing that spoke to her were the cakes on the tray. They looked delicious and her stomach growled noisily.

  “You can have a drink of water until your surprise arrives.” Her mom walked over to the tray and poured Axelle a long tall glass of water. Axelle drank the whole thing in one gulp, her eyes never leaving the cakes on their pretty three-tiered platter.

  Suddenly there was a powerful vibration in the air, and the room seemed to shimmer like a desert mirage. Then a massive boom that hurt Axelle’s eardrums. The floor shifted and she screamed, but she couldn’t hear anything except that boom and roar that scared her so bad she thought she was going to pee her pants. The ceiling cracked, and huge chunks of plaster started to fall. She lunged for her mother’s hand as the floor disappeared beneath them and they were both falling.

  She landed awkwardly on her back with a jarring thud. Letting go of her mom’s hand to curl up into a tiny ball, she threw her hands in front of her face to protect herself from the dust and plaster and concrete that rained down. Her whole body shook with terror. Dust clogged her throat and she started coughing and retching, her heartbeat so loud it drummed through her ears.

  It took a moment to realize the noise had stopped. Axelle tried to blink the grit out of her eyes and see where they were. Where had the sun gone? It was dark, really dark—like nighttime. Then she saw a weak beam of light pierce the stone.

  What had happened? Had the world exploded?

  “Mommy?” Her ears still rang and she didn’t know if she’d said it loudly enough for her mom to hear. “Mommy!” she shouted and it echoed strangely.

  But when the echo died away only eerie silence remained. Panic welled. She couldn’t catch her breath and she gulped air, panting as a wave of dizziness hit her. A noise behind her made her spin, and her heart lodged in her mouth. A long block of concrete had fallen and seemed to be resting on a huge solid piece of wood that creaked and groaned under the weight. The thought of it crushing her had her scrambling away from it, but there was nowhere to go.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. More plaster and timber trickled down, burying her. She clawed at it, trying to shift it to get to where her mother should be, and away from the groaning wood that was going to collapse at any moment. Sweat ran down her face as the heat built inside the dark suffocating prison. Her hands were cut and bleeding but she didn’t stop digging.

  Somehow she made a tiny hole just big enough to wriggle through. Jagged edges ripped her dress and scraped her legs, and moments later she heard the wood shatter in her wake. Her lungs pumped, her mouth dropping open in shock.

  She’d almost been killed.

  “Mommy?” she whispered into the darkness. Away from the shifting concrete, she made herself stay still and listen. After a moment, the dust resettled and her eyes adjusted. She made out the dust-covered figure of her mom lying half buried in the rubble. She crawled closer. “Mom?”

  Why wasn’t she moving?

  Axelle frowned in confusion and touched her hand, squeezing her mother’s fingers and waiting for that answering response. But her mother never moved. She peered at her mother’s pretty face, touched a finger to her powdery lips. Nothing. She didn’t react. Wasn’t breathing.

  A huge terrifying fear invaded Axelle’s body and drove away all thought and reason. She shook her mother’s arm and started screaming. “Mommy, wake up! Wake up! Mommy, Mommy!”

  When she had no voice left, when her throat was raw and her lips covered in the same dust that coated her mother’s body, she quieted. It was useless. Her mother wouldn’t wake up. Hot tears scalded her cheeks as she huddled in the dark.

  Loneliness pressed in on her, and her heart started pounding again as panic bit once more. She didn’t want to die. Her hands throbbed from cuts and bruises; whimpering sounds echoed in the darkness and it took a moment to realize it was her making those noises. Finally, finally, the faraway wail of sirens broke the silence, and Axelle started screaming all over again.

  Chapter Six

  How many years had it been since she’d held hands with a guy? A soldier? A shiver brushed over her skin like a ghost from the past.

  It felt strange. As if she’d been transported back in time. And yet, here she was, relying on the strength of those long, strong, foreign fingers to guide her safely through the night. Adjusting her footing in response to subtle pressure changes, tuning her body to match his. Trusting a man she’d just met. Relying on a man, period.

  It wasn’t something she did.

  It wasn’t who she was.

  She believed in saving things, in using data to make her point, not violence. But data wasn’t going to save her leopards from their current predicament. Her fingers tightened involuntarily and he slowed to match her pace. The guy was fit, not even breathing heavily, despite everything they’d been through and how many miles they’d walked. She was fit too, she ran and worked out, but exhaustion was making her feet scuff and her vision blur. Not that she was about to admit weakness to this newcomer.

  The clouds had disappeared and a thin moon shone clear and bright. “Tell me about the man you’re after,” she said, trying to force herself awake.

  “It’s classified.”

  “Oh, for the love of God,” she snapped. “I need to know who I might be dealing with.”

  “Keep the volume down,” he said calmly. “You don’t have to deal with anyone. You have to stay hidden until we catch this bastard.”

  “Yeah, that’s gonna happen,” she whispered caustically. “Soldiers aren’t immortal.” Her voice cracked with buried pain. “I need to know what’s going on in case you’re not around to handle it.”

  “I’ll be around, don’t worry about that.” His fingers tensed around hers.

  She didn’t believe in those sorts of promises. She’d heard them before. “Who are you really? How many men do you have?” The moonlight was bright enough to watch his expression turn grim. He shook his head, walking faster.

  “Tyrone Dempsey. Sergeant. 2350045.”

  “Ha-ha.” Her scratches stung but the fatigue helped numb the constant ache. “How long before we set up the trap?”

  He stopped and said in a low voice that bristled with impatience. “Keep the noise down. Sound carries for miles in these hills and we’ve no idea where he might be.”

  Axelle grimaced. “Sorry.” She wasn’t used to a cloak-and-dagger existence. She left people alone and they usually returned the favor.

  He started forward again. “We’ll stop over this ridge and assess the area.”

  She looked around and recognized her surroundings. “Wait, there’s a shallow cave in that hillside over there.” She pointed along the narrow gorge they were traveling through.

  The team had set up a hide there the first summer they’d come to this region. Dempsey looked at the ground, then at the surrounding hillside. There was a faint dusting of snow. He nodded as if trusting her decision. “We’ll climb up via the ridge and I’ll
circle back along the top and down into the cave to try and not leave tracks.” He looked at the dusting of snow. “Although that’s almost impossible under these conditions. We better hope for more snow or enough wind to sweep them away.”

  She started the steep climb out of the valley. “I assume this person is a terrorist?” She noted the way he tensed even though he didn’t answer. “Figures. How’d you know he’s in this region?”

  “Do you ever stop asking questions?” Still the conservation was barely above a whisper.

  Out of breath, Axelle used a hand on her knee to help her climb. “Sure—”

  “When you’re asleep?”

  She grunted. It wasn’t attractive but she didn’t care. The guy had already seen her at her worst. “Asking questions is what scientists do.”

  A soft huff of air told her he was laughing. He let go of her hand. The sudden feeling of separation caught her off guard. He pointed along the faint trail. “Keep moving carefully along the path, I’ll go plant the collar and catch you up.” Suddenly he was gone, leaving her alone in the frigid landscape.

  “Don’t be foolish,” she whispered. Alone was fine. She liked alone. She wasn’t scared of the dark. Just of caves and enclosed spaces the same way any sane human would be if they’d been trapped beneath tons of rubble that could shift at any moment… She put the brakes on that train of thought.

  If she concentrated hard she could make out the snake and curl of the trail in the glimmer of moonlight. Ice coated some of the rocks, and each footstep was treacherous. She hoped her horse was safe but in her experience animals were smarter at finding their way home than humans. He’d have gone back to camp for the warm mash he knew was waiting. Josef and Anji would worry but there was nothing she could do about that.

  The world was absolutely silent except for her breath puffing in and out of her lungs and her footfalls scratching the brittle earth. Dempsey materialized at her side like a specter and she jumped. He caught her elbow. “Come on. I planted the collar and spotted a decent place to lay up. We’ll embed and call the lads for backup.”

  Excitement tripped through her veins at the thought of taking this fight to the poacher. Although why Dempsey thought her poacher and his terrorist were the same person she couldn’t fathom. Didn’t matter. She’d take any help she could get in the effort to save her leopards.

  They worked their way up the opposite side of the valley. Wind blew the dusting of snow across the trail, obliterating their tracks.

  It was getting much steeper.

  She jolted when Dempsey maneuvered her in front of him and put both hands on her hips to hold her in place. A frisson of sexual awareness shot through her.

  “The cave is just above this boulder.” His hands burned imprints through her clothes and into her skin and she was suddenly, for the first time in what seemed like decades, aware of herself as a woman. “I’m going to give you a boost, which probably means putting my hands on your arse.” His voice was husky, his breath brushed against her ear as he tried to keep the volume as inaudible as possible. “If you have a problem with that, I’ll figure out some other way. But this is the quickest and easiest method to get where we need to be.”

  The idea of his hands on her ass stirred long-repressed erotic memories, which bothered her a lot. Her heart pounded and her mouth went dry. But there was another problem. A bigger problem. “I’m not real big on caves.”

  He took that as affirmation and boosted her up. She reached for the lip of rock and tried to find purchase with her feet. Two big hands found her butt and gave her a forceful shove that allowed her to crawl over the top. She didn’t know what the hell she was feeling and didn’t have time to think about it as his backpack bobbed in front of her. She caught the straps and the damn thing nearly pulled her back over the edge. It was heavier than she was.

  She hung on and leaned back, pulling the thing with every ounce of strength. Then he was beside her and yanking the pack beside him with what looked like ease.

  “You need a lesson in traveling light.” Her breath came in shallow pants.

  “Yeah, well my horse was busy and at least I have my comms and sleeping bag with me. If you’re lucky I might share.” He winked.

  She smiled for the first time in days. She’d almost forgotten the art of banter, but right now it eased the tension and untied the knot that constricted her throat. “We’ve held hands and you’ve copped a feel, I guess now we have to sleep together.”

  Mischief danced in the sparkle of his eyes. “I’d heard American girls were easy.” He held out his hand and pulled her along behind him.

  “I’d heard Englishmen were charming.” She deliberately got his nationality wrong. “I guess we were both wrong.”

  He clutched his chest and pretended to stagger. “English?” He shuddered. “I’d rather be stabbed through the heart with a toothbrush.”

  He was kidding with her. Something about him was so relaxed and familiar it almost hurt. Axelle felt comfortable in his presence and yet wired by the unexpected attraction. It was as if they’d known each other for years. As if they trusted one another.

  She followed him, still holding his hand.

  Don’t think about the cave.

  She looked out at the valley instead. It was almost dawn now, the soft glow of the newborn sun edging along the tips of the distant peaks.

  They stopped in front of some straggly scrub. He held back a bush, and the fragrant aroma of sage filled the air.

  She looked at the entrance of the cave and her skin prickled. It was more of a crevice than a cave. About two feet high and four feet wide, deep enough for them to crawl inside. More of a crack than a real cave. Her pulse hammered in her ears. Whenever possible, she had her students do anything that involved overhanging rock, but this was all on her.

  She stared up at the cliff face. She could almost feel the pressure of all that stone pressing down of her. Oh, shit. Memories tried to crowd her and her hands shook. The moisture in her mouth evaporated. Dempsey crouched, exploring the space with a stick to make sure nothing nasty lurked in the recesses.

  Tremors struck her body. She couldn’t do this. She retreated a half step and he reached out to catch her arm.

  “Easy. That’s a steep fall back there.”

  She glanced behind her and saw the dizzying drop. Jesus, she’d almost stepped off a cliff because she was freaked out by a simple hole in the mountain—an indentation—not even a real cave.

  He slipped his sleeping bag out of his pack and unzipped it, spreading it out on the rough stone. “Right then. In you go.”

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out. He caught her expression and went still. “Or”—he drew the word out as his eyes catalogued her features—“we can abort this idea and head back to camp and make a new plan.”

  Because she couldn’t cope with lying beneath a rock.

  “Give me a minute.” She dropped to her haunches.

  “The main thing about this sort of observation work is keeping still. We’ve got enough cover around the entrance to keep us hidden and enough dust over our skin that shine isn’t going to give us away. But movement draws the eye and that’s where covert surveillance fails.”

  He pulled out the satellite phone and called his team members and HQ. She heard them exchanging a few details.

  Another problem rose to the forefront of her mind. “How long will we be staying here?”

  He looked over at her like she’d grown horns. “Until he turns up or the situation changes.”

  She fidgeted and pressed her legs together but it didn’t help. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  Lines cut around his lips as he smiled. There was even a dimple. “Ah.”

  They looked out at the barren surroundings. He peered past her shoulders. “There’s a boulder along there.”

  “What about your men?”

  His expression was serious but she could tell he was trying hard not to laugh. “They won’t be here for a while. Satelli
te images are good but they aren’t that good so hopefully everyone at HQ won’t see your…” He coughed and hid a laugh. “I’ll look the other way. Watch the drop-off,” he warned.

  She crept along the ledge, a little worried her bodily functions might be broadcast to the entire British Army but resigned anyway. It wasn’t exactly easy, trying to pee on a cliff face, but nothing about this situation was easy.

  When she came back, Dempsey was stretched out inside the cave. She swallowed the lump of dread that solidified in her throat. Locking her jaw, she crawled down beside him, aware of every inch of his body—and hers. He felt good. Really good. Breathing steadily, she concentrated on him rather than the thought of all that rock above her head.

  She’d almost forgotten how enjoyable it could feel to press against a hard male body. Certainly no one had elicited this sort of response since Gideon. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she wasn’t so chicken. She hated being afraid of anything and this was so…stupid. Wishing there was room to edge away from Dempsey, she fidgeted, which made her even more aware of him and his scent and shape.

  Why did she have to be even vaguely aware of this guy as a male? After Gideon had been killed, she’d vowed never to go through that kind of pain again. She’d never get involved again, period. She thrust away the memories.

  It took her a moment to realize she’d been so busy thinking about men that she’d forgotten her fear of caves. She didn’t know which she’d rather deal with.

  She kept her eyes on the horizon, wriggled for another minute. Shifted her hips. Scratched her arm. Pushed her hair behind her ears. Shifted her hips again. She felt the weight of eyes on her and turned to meet a pair of the bluest, most-intense irises she’d ever seen.

  “What?” she asked.

  He cocked a brow. “Movement, remember?”

  His eyes were even bluer close up and she found herself cataloguing his features. Straight, flat nose. Full lower lip. Sandy blond stubble gracing a lean jaw. Sun-bleached brows and lashes that looked white against his tanned skin and high, Slavic cheekbones.

 

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