Oh, God! Every survival instinct she had made her want to claw upward, to daylight, to air. Yet, downward led to salvation.
She tried pushing Cam aside to reach the door beneath his feet. But there wasn’t enough room to slip by. He was too big. And she’d never drag him out by herself. She couldn’t do this alone.
She slapped Cam between the shoulder blades, hard. He choked, spit out water, opened his eyes.
Thank God. He was alive!
She eased his head back and tilted her own chin up, too, breathing awkwardly in the last few inches of air space, praying he could hear her. “We’re in the river, Cam. We have to swim down to get out.”
He dragged in air in huge rasps, didn’t say a word.
“Cam. Listen to me. The driver’s door is below your foot. Feel around with your shoe. Use your foot on the handle. Open the door.”
Cam’s face, what she could see of it, looked blank. Either he was gathering his strength and saving air to make an escape attempt or he was barely conscious. Alexa had no idea if Cam heard her or even understood her.
A long moment later, Cam slipped beneath the surface. She reached to tug him back. Missed.
Water rushed over her face. The last of the air trapped with them inside the vehicle vanished in a swirl of surging water.
They would go down fast now. If they didn’t get out before the SUV struck bottom, they’d be sealed inside.
They would die in this icy darkness.
An odd rush of water churned by her feet. Hands gripped her ankles and pulled her down, down. She used every ounce of courage not to fight going deeper into the water, used her hands to push past the steering wheel, out of the vehicle.
Cam slid his hands up her body and somehow she grabbed his hand. He’d found the strength to pull them out.
Now they needed air.
The light above seemed tauntingly close as her lungs turned to fire. Together, they kicked and kicked to the surface, Cam holding tight to her hand.
When her head cleared the water, Alexa sputtered and drew air into her aching lungs. Her energy spent, dizzy, light-headed and half-frozen, she gasped and swallowed water. She sank back beneath the surface, couldn’t find the strength to swim.
Somehow Cam dragged her to shore, made her crawl the last few feet. They both lay on the riverbank too exhausted to move, grateful to be breathing.
It took ten or fifteen minutes for the adrenaline rush to recede, for her breathing to approach normal, for her to appreciate she was still alive. Long minutes passed before her thoughts cleared enough for her to open her eyes and look around.
Rolling onto her back, she gazed at where the bridge used to be. “We almost died.”
Cam raised himself on an elbow, cleared his throat. “I never thought I’d thank a woman for screaming in my face. Are you okay?”
“Okay? I’m not okay. I’m scared, cold, wet and mad as hell.” She turned onto her side, and despite the blood still trickling from the cut on his head, he smiled at her. She wanted to slap him. “What are you grinning at?”
He kneeled, opened his arms wide in invitation. “Most women would be crying in my arms right now.”
She’d like nothing better than a comforting hug but refused to give him the satisfaction. “You bumped your head and aren’t thinking straight. This isn’t funny. Someone tried to kill us.”
He stood and helped her to her feet. “You’re too feisty to kill.”
She stomped her bare foot. Somewhere she’d lost her shoes. Water and mud splashed over both of them. “This is no time for jokes. Someone detonated an explosion as we drove over the bridge.”
His eyes narrowed and he turned to look at the bridge. “You’re sure?”
She looked at his head, examining the laceration and bruise around it. “You don’t remember?”
“I was driving and the next thing I remember, we were in the water. You were shouting in my face, being bossy—”
“I’m not bossy.”
“—and ordering me around, as usual.”
“As usual?” She made a fist, restrained herself from socking him in the gut.
“I happen to like bossy women.” His gray eyes turned smoky, a look she was beginning to recognize that happened only just before he kissed her. What was wrong with the man? They’d almost died. Now they were fighting. She looked like a wet fish, and he had this look in his eyes like he wanted to swallow her whole.
When his admiring gaze swept over her, Alexa looked down at herself. Her tailored blouse molded her breasts like a wet T-shirt, and even through her bra, her nipples puckered and peaked through. She tugged her shirt from her skin, but her effort to hide her physical reaction proved futile. The material resisted all her efforts to hang loosely.
That teasing tone roughened Cam’s voice. “Why are you trying to hide? You have a lovely body.”
“So do you. Do I undress you with my eyes?” she snapped, humiliated, annoyed and frustrated. He couldn’t just pretend she looked normal. Oh, no. He had to go and call attention to the fact that she might as well be naked.
He reached out a hand to her. “You can’t fault a man for looking at what’s offered.”
She slapped his hand away with more force than was necessary. “You idiot. I wasn’t offering. I’m cold.”
Cameron sighed and threaded his fingers through his hair, winced when he touched the swelling bruise on his forehead. “And I don’t suppose you want me to warm you up?”
“Sure you can.”
He arched an eyebrow and stepped forward.
She planted her palm on his chest, ignoring his hard muscles, ignoring his warmth. But she couldn’t ignore the beat of his heart, fast and furious, against her hand. Yet she wasn’t about to let him kiss her, because she didn’t trust herself. Whatever was happening between them was happening way too fast. She was off-kilter, needed to think, wasn’t about to succumb to the we-almost-died-so-let’s-make-love rationalization. Not when she still often thought of Cam as Sandra’s husband. “If you want to warm me up, buster, you can lend me your shirt.”
“You’re nothing but a little tease.” His eyes narrowed in mock annoyance, but his lips curved upward. “And my shirt is just as wet as yours.” Still, he unbuttoned his shirt and handed it to her.
At the sight of his bare chest, her mouth went dry. Bronzed skin dappled with water droplets emphasized lean muscles in a tantalizing display of light and shadow. And she was no longer thinking of him as anything but a man. A very attractive man. She’d always known that Cameron Sutton dwarfed those around him, just hadn’t realized it wasn’t his height alone that made him stand out with no hint of weakness. His muscular neck emerged from brawny shoulders and a barrellike chest lightly dusted with curly black hair tapered to a flat stomach.
Alexa struggled with his wet shirt, refusing to drool over him like some bimbo. So what if he had a body Michelangelo could have sculpted? So what if she ached to run her hands over him in appreciation as she would a fine piece of art? So what if her hormones had a life of their own?
Her hormones weren’t in charge.
Her brain was.
The sound of hoofbeats drew her gaze to a nearby hill. A rider on horseback approached at a canter. She had no idea if he was friend or foe. But they had no weapons, no place to hide.
Cameron squinted into the sunlight. “That’s Bodine. He’s one of our regular summer hands.”
The cowboy neared, his gaze shifting from the torn-up bridge to them. “I heard an explosion. Thought I saw a vehicle plunge into the river.”
“That would have been us.” Cam, revealed his gift for understatement. “I’d appreciate it if you could lend us your horse.”
“That’s not necessary,” Alexa interrupted. Even she could see that Bodine wasn’t keen on lending them his horse. The prematurely graying, salt-and-pepper bearded cowboy’s face stiffened.
Cam ignored her protest. “I’ll send back another mount for you.”
“Okay, Doc.”<
br />
Alexa looked at the horse and her stomach fluttered. “I can walk,” she insisted, avoiding his gaze.
“It’s seven miles back to the house.” Cam removed the horse’s saddle and set it on a boulder before turning back to the cowboy. “This should save some weight. I don’t want to strain his back with us riding double.”
The cowboy nodded.
“And in the meantime, don’t let anyone near that bridge. The sheriff will need to examine it for evidence.”
“Got it. I’ll see if I can fix some kind of temporary road block—at least on this side.”
Cam took the horse’s reins and led the animal over to the boulder, mounting with ease, his tone casual. “Don’t blame you for not wanting a swim. The water’s kind of cold.”
Bodine looked at the shivering Alexa and laced his hands together. “I’ll boost you up.”
“No, thanks.”
“My horse is gentle, ma’am.”
It wasn’t the horse she was afraid of, but if the cowboy wanted to think so, she had no intention of correcting his mistaken impression. Letting him think she feared his horse was preferable to stating the truth.
Cameron held out his hand, gray eyes bright with amusement. “Come on, darling.”
Flustered, she snapped at him. “I’m not your darling.”
“Ma’am, there’s nothing to it. All you’ve got to do is sit there and hold on.”
The expensive European finishing school Alexa had attended had made sure she knew how to ride. She also knew how to entertain royalty and oversee several households. However, her etiquette teachers hadn’t taught her how to cope with awkward situations like this one.
Cameron’s voice teased her. “Come on, the horse won’t bite you.”
At his taunting tone, she spoke without thinking. “I’m not afraid of the damn horse.”
“Then what’s the problem, sweetheart?”
“I’m not your darling. I’m not your sweetheart. I have a name, and it’s Alexa,” she fumed.
It was as if he knew what effect sitting behind his huge expanse of bare back would do to scramble her senses. She didn’t want to sit behind Cameron, put her arms around his waist, cradle him between her thighs, and right now, he must be guessing her reason.
“I’m afraid of heights,” she lied, grabbing the first excuse she could think of, knowing it sounded lame. Cam reached down, encircled her wrist with one powerful hand and tugged. At the same time, Bodine boosted her up, and before she knew it, she was mounted behind Cam.
“Hold on, sugar.”
She gritted her teeth, gingerly put her arms around him. “The name’s Alexa.”
“Whatever you say, kitten.”
Realizing the more she protested, the more he’d tease, she clamped her lips together. Cameron urged the horse into an easy canter, and Alexa had to tighten her grip around him. Her arms barely encircled him and she had to lean closer to maintain her grip. Even through her wet clothing, she could feel his warmth seeping into her. Every step of the horse, every bounce, pressed her breasts against his back, brought her cheek sliding against bared flesh. And all the while her open thighs rubbed intimately against him.
She tried to pull back, but the horse’s rhythm kept sliding her against him, his musky male scent engulfing her every breath. To distract herself, she looked around, but the cows, barbed-wire fences and fluttering butterflies couldn’t hold her interest for long.
When Cam slowed the horse to a walk, she tried once again to wriggle away, gain just an inch or two of distance between them. But the horse’s back, slick from their damp clothing made her efforts futile. One second later, she found herself plastered to Cam again, and the heat seeping into her hadn’t just warmed her. Her stomach rippled with tiny waves of taut tension. Her breasts, sensitized from the friction, ached for more. Refusing to think about how her body reacted to his, she took the opportunity to talk.
“How well do you know Bodine?”
The Senator had dropped off copies of employment records of everyone who’d worked on the ranch. Although Cameron had reviewed them, he’d already told her that he’d found nothing suspicious. “Bodine works here during the summers. Has a small ranch of his own north of Highview that he works during his off-hours. He used to rodeo, but quit after he busted his leg.”
“Was he ever in the military?”
“I’m not sure. Why?”
“Well, someone had to know how to detonate that explosion. And he was close by.”
Cam guided the horse through a gate into another pasture. “What reason could he possibly have to want us dead?”
Frustrated, she shrugged, and her breasts moved against his back. “I don’t know.”
“Will you please stop doing that?”
“What?”
“Squirming.”
“I’m not—”
“Woman, you’re wrapped around me tighter than a blanket. Trust me. You breathe, I know it.”
“Sorry.” Embarrassed, Alexa released her hands from his waist. If he continued to walk the horse, she needn’t hold on so tightly. But now that her arms weren’t holding her against him, only her breasts rubbed his back, somehow drawing even more attention to the limited contact. “Why don’t I walk for a while?”
“Barefooted?”
She’d forgotten her missing shoes. She thought it’d be nice if he volunteered to dismount and walk, but he didn’t. She couldn’t just keep sitting there, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. “Maybe if I sat in front it would be better.”
He chuckled. “Not for me, darling. Just sit still and quit rubbing your sweet little body all over my—”
“Shut up. Just don’t say another word.”
“And you say you aren’t bossy?”
ALEXA HAD NEVER BEEN so glad to reach her destination in her life. The long ride back had been sweet torture, leaving her in turn frustrated, angry and embarrassed. She wanted to sneak into the house in her still-damp clothes, take a hot shower and wash away the tension thrumming through her.
They rode up Cam’s driveway, and an assortment of vehicles revealed that visitors awaited. With the pipe laid and ditch filled in, Alexa surmised that at least the plumbers had finished connecting the water. If the electrical hookups had been completed too, she could dismount, go upstairs and take that shower she’d been dreaming about.
Grateful to slide from the horse’s back and free herself from the constant contact with Cameron, Alexa walked gingerly to the front porch, aching in muscles she hadn’t known she had.
Cam dismounted, too, and passed the reins to a ranch hand. “Cool him down and give him extra feed, then ride over to the bridge with an extra mount for Bodine.”
“Okay, Doc.”
Alexa headed toward the house, head down, watching that her bare feet didn’t step on any construction materials. When a shadow loomed over her, she jerked and looked up to see a young man with earnest green eyes and the hulk of a body builder assessing her progress.
He stepped down the stairs to greet her and held out his beefy hand, biceps bulging. “Hi. I’m Leo Harley. I’m here about the kitchen job.”
Alexa shook the young man’s hand as Cam joined them. “I’m Cameron Sutton. Julie said you can cook?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you seen the kitchen?”
“When will the appliances be arriving?” Leo asked pleasantly, and Alexa thought him a vast improvement over the sour demeanor of Cameron’s former employee.
“Daddy!”
“Daddy!”
The twins spotted Cameron through the open front door, and tiny legs pumping, they took flying leaps into his outstretched arms. Cameron caught Jason in one arm, Flynn in the other. Both boys plastered kisses on his cheek.
“You’re wet,” Flynn declared.
Jason eyed Alexa. “You’re wet, too.”
“And dirty.”
“Out of the mouths of babes…” At the new voice with the clipped Boston accent, Alexa froze
.
It couldn’t possibly be…“Grandma?”
Mrs. Emily Barrington stepped onto the porch. Regal and thin, her white hair cut in a becoming fashion, the Boston society matriarch took one look at Alexa’s disheveled appearance and frowned. “You look like a ragamuffin.”
Jason giggled. “Lexi’s a muffin?”
“Can’t eat Lexi.” Flynn smiled at Alexa.
“I’d like to try,” Cameron muttered low enough for only Alexa to hear.
She had to restrain herself from kicking him. She’d barely regained control of her raging hormones, and the thought he’d just put in her head made her senses start swimming all over again.
The front door opened, and her grandfather, Dalton Barrington, his silver-handled ebony cane tapping, stepped onto the porch. He held his head and bony shoulders with a proud, aristocratic air. Alexa hadn’t seen him in months, but her grandmother’s white-haired husband looked exactly the same. Stern. Disapproving and in total control of every nuance of his tight-lipped expression.
Beside her, Cameron stiffened, and without looking at him, Alexa felt anger radiating off him in waves. No one shook hands. To give Cam credit, his arms were full with the twins. And Grandfather didn’t budge an inch, his haughty demeanor and pale blue eyes condemning them.
Leo Harley looked from her grandparents to Cam and obviously sensed tension. “Perhaps we should do the interview at another time?”
Cam shifted Flynn to the ground, then Jason, but kept hold of their hands. “If you could take the boys to Julie, I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“Sure thing, Doc.” Leo, eager to leave, helped the boys up the steps, then disappeared inside with them.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Cam asked, walking up the steps onto the porch and towering over the Barringtons.
“We were worried about Alexa,” her grandmother said in her cultured Boston accent.
For a moment, Alexa thought they’d come out of worry for her safety after reading about her close call with the bull. She started to join them, actually feeling warmed.
Little Boys Blue Page 7
