by J. D. Tyler
Daria sat on a big root, eyeing him as removed his pants and rustled through his belongings. The water swirled invitingly as he waded in. Dear Lord, Ryon belonged on one of those hunk-of-the-month calendars. The man possessed a body to rival a Greek god. Silky blond hair brushed his neck. The lean muscles of his back and arms bunched under golden skin. His chiseled butt cried out for her hands.
He waded out until the water lapped at his hips and turned so that she had a great side profile. Then he leaned back and dunked his head, giving her a tantalizing view of his chest and ripped abs. Whoa, baby!
Ryon straightened and began to lather his hair with a bar of soap she hadn’t noticed in his hand. He repeated the procedure all over his upper body until she actually began to feel envious of the bubbles. He dunked himself twice to rinse, then swiped the water out of his face with his free hand. Without warning, he spun and grinned at her.
“Enjoying the show, baby?”
“I was just scouting the area for danger,” she quipped.
His grin widened into a blinding smile. “Your concern for my safety is heartwarming, but the only dangerous animal around here will be me if you keep eyeballing me like I’m a steak.”
“Deal with it.”
Laughing, he finished up. Then he got out, used the blanket to pat dry, and got dressed. Too bad. She rose from her gnarly perch as he was pulling on a clean shirt, still favoring his side. He donned clean fatigues as well.
“I’d like to wash our dirty clothes before we leave so we can lay them out tonight to dry,” she commented. “No telling when we’ll find another good place to get clean.”
“Good idea.”
Daria discarded her clothing as fast as humanly possible, grabbed the soap, and dashed for the water. She plunged into the pond and faced Ryon, making sure her breasts were well within his appreciative view.
“Oh, it’s so warm!” she called to him. “This feels terrific.”
“Doesn’t it?” He didn’t look like he was thinking about the water as he eyed her.
“I’ll never take my shower at home for granted again.”
He laughed once more. She loved the rich sound. As she scrubbed herself from head to toe, she spent the time contemplating how to get him to do it often. And that voice, made for a darkened bedroom and tangled sheets on a hot summer night? Made her wet.
Rinsing the last of the soap from her body, she pushed her wet hair back and opened her eyes to see Ryon grinning at her like a fool. “Nice show.”
“Hey, no fair!” she squeaked playfully. She smiled back—and then a strange thing happened.
Ryon’s grin withered, and he rose slowly, frowning, looking past her.
“What is it?”
His expression bloomed into a mask of horror, and he yelled at her. “Get out of the water! Get out!”
Ryon stooped, retrieved the knife from his boot and broke into a dead run as Daria spun about. Nothing but a weird ripple in the water, no more than fifteen feet away. No, not just a ripple. More like something gliding, but she couldn’t see what. At first.
“Daria, get out!”
Ben was here. And the beast was in control.
She barely caught the distorted outline of the creature’s huge bulk, then turned and lunged for the bank, too terrified to scream. Her feet slipped on the slimy bottom and she went down. Scrambling, she dug her toes in and shoved forward, heart pounding in her throat. Frantic, she glanced back to see the beast sloshing through the water now, right at her back, jaws gaping. Snaggled, ugly teeth were ready to tear into her skin. She found her voice.
“Ryon!”
He plunged into the water and leapt at the creature, landing on top of it just as it reached her. Daria stumbled onto the bank, panting in fear. Ryon was straddling the monster’s back, his arms wrapped around the large head. The thing had to be more than twice his height, its strength incredible. The beast tried to pull him off, then twisted in a violent roll, over and over, moving Ryon into deeper water where it would attempt to drown him. Or tear him apart.
“Oh my God! Ryon!”
The water churned with the force of their battle. Each time the creature would roll, it held Ryon under longer, wearing him down. Toying with him, it showed a keen intelligence that was more frightening than if it had been blindly slashing at its prey like before. As it flipped Ryon upright, he’d emerge gasping, arms straining to hold on to the beast and the knife.
Desperate, she considered his rifle. No good. She couldn’t shoot the creature without perhaps hitting Ryon. And the bullets would likely have no effect anyway.
The knife flashed in Ryon’s hand. With one mighty lunge, the beast thrashed, dislodging Ryon from his back. And disappeared. Treading water, Ryon sucked in gulps of air, casting about for the beast.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I stabbed it,” he sputtered, chest heaving. “It went under.”
It couldn’t be that easy. Terror rose, for her mate and for Ben. “Hurry and come out of there.” He glanced at her, nodded, and began to swim without a word about her state of undress.
Daria had slipped into a pair of panties and was reaching for her bra when he stopped swimming. “What on earth are you doing?”
Ryon’s body jerked in the water. His eyes widened in disbelief just before he was slammed. He threw back his head and screamed in agony, flailing. Then he was yanked downward, and the water closed over his head. This time he didn’t resurface.
“Ryon? Ryon!”
Daria stood immobile, unable to comprehend for a moment what had just happened. Bubbles rose from the depths, along with a bright stain of blood. So much of it that the entire area where he’d gone under ran completely red. Her stomach clenched, and she fought back the sickness, clamping a hand over her mouth.
“Nooo.” A sob welled in her chest, then another.
Ryon was gone. He’d suffered a horrendous death, and it was her fault for insisting they stop here. For keeping after him until he agreed to help her save Ben—her ex-lover. The man, the creature, who’d murdered him.
My mate. Tears streamed down her face.
Shoulders shaking, she stared out over the water. She didn’t care if Ben came back and ate her as well. Not now. Then, abruptly, the water swirled and Ryon exploded to the surface, choking.
Numb with fear, she ran to meet him as he swam to where he could stand. He staggered toward her, limping badly. She waded out to him, draping one of his arms around her neck and grabbing him around the waist.
Ryon made it to the bank before his knees buckled. She sat beside him, patting his back as he knelt on all fours, coughing and gagging. Ironic, but she’d never beheld a more welcome sight than her mate hacking up his lungs.
“I was scared to death,” she murmured, wiping at her tears. They wouldn’t seem to stop. “I thought you were dead.”
“Me, too,” he rasped. “But I think you would’ve known for sure if I was gone, because our bond would’ve been severed.”
Pausing, she realized the golden thread was still there, humming with life, energy. Letting out a sigh of relief, she nodded. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking straight or I would’ve felt that it was still intact.”
“I lost my knife during that round.”
“All that blood in the water,” she said, shuddering.
“Most of it was his, but I think he still got away. Or he came to himself enough that he let me go.”
“What do you mean, most of the blood was his?”
His strength spent, Ryon slumped to the ground. Daria rolled him to his back, and he grimaced in pain, closing his eyes. His head listed to the side and his body went slack. He’d passed out.
Daria brushed his sunlit hair out of his face, and love welled in her heart. Ryon had placed himself on the line for her again, and this time, his bravery had nearly killed him. The truth she had already accepted and voiced to Ryon seeped to every corner of her soul; she loved this man and would not accept life without him.
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She dressed quickly, then began a thorough inspection, making certain all of his limbs were intact. Then she spotted the holes in his fatigues, high on his right thigh. Dread consumed her, and she bent close. Blood darkened this area of his wet pants, and wicked bite marks were visible through the tears in the fabric.
She scooted to kneel by his shoulders, and shook him gently. “Honey, wake up. Come on, big guy.” After several more tries, his lashes fluttered open, much to her profound relief. Which was short-lived.
“What . . . happened?” His eyes were dazed.
Daria’s fear escalated. She prayed that his wolf could fight off the creature’s venom and that he wasn’t going into shock, because she’d never tended to anyone severely injured. “You duked it out with Ben’s creature. Remember?” She took one of his large hands and rubbed it between hers.
“Yeah. God, that shit burns.” He gazed at her through half-closed lids. She let a thread of steel creep into her tone.
“I know it does, but you cannot check out on me. It’s going to be dark in a few hours, and we need to finish what we came here to do so we can get the hell out of here and head home.” She pulled at his arm. “Get your ass up! I need to get you somewhere so I can see about that leg.”
To her amazement, he rose, pushed to his feet. “My pack. And the rifle.” His voice was breathless, heavy with exertion.
Her mate’s wolf must have the strength of ten men. And the heart of a lion. Her admiration grew exponentially as she retrieved both, and assisted him in shrugging the pack onto his back. “I’ll get the rifle,” she offered. He surrendered the weapon without a fuss, and her concern mounted.
They set out, but Ryon managed only a few miles before coming to a halt. He stood swaying, then braced an arm against a tree for support. With a wave of his hand, he indicated a temporary place to stop.
“Over there.”
Daria led him to the spot, hidden well off the trail. He looked dangerously close to passing out again, but gritted his teeth and carried on. She spread the blanket on the ground, then ordered him to take off his pants.
Under normal circumstances, the Ryon she’d come to know would’ve given her a disarming grin and made good use of their privacy. But he merely complied, his face gray. That scared her more than anything.
Leaning against her for support, he eased the fatigues past his hips, and off. Daria sucked in a sharp breath. “Lie down.”
Ryon settled down on his back, eyes fixed on the trees. He hadn’t looked at the wound and Daria didn’t blame him. Lord have mercy, how was he going to be able to walk? At best, they had a day left to travel before their job was complete and they reached the team.
“How bad is it?”
She touched his shoulder, dreading what she had to say. “Let’s put it this way. Your part in this op is over. Starting now.”
• • •
Ryon propped himself up on his elbow and squinted at the wound. A vicious oath sprang to his lips, but he suppressed it. Two rows of bloody punctures marched horizontally across his right thigh. The creature had attacked from the side, clamped down on the leg, and pulled him to the bottom of the lagoon. Their struggle had been brief, but vicious.
Daria’s brows furrowed, her eyes soft with worry. “Bend your knee. I want to see underneath.” He did, hissing between his teeth. “Easy. Oh, boy. You have a matching set on the back of your thigh.”
“Terrific,” he muttered, lying on his back again. “A human pincushion.”
“Hey, you’re darned lucky he didn’t crush the bone, or worse, hit an artery. As it is, keeping your leg from getting infected before we can reach your team will take a miracle.”
Ryon shrugged. “We’re only losing a couple of days total by doubling back to get the evidence on August. I’ll keep.” In truth, the acidic poison from the creature’s bite was a slow burn in his tissue, seeping toward the bone, making him sweat.
She gaped at him. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You’re done. I’m taking you to meet the guys, and you’re going to let them get you to a hospital.”
“I’m the one who knows where August’s computer room is located. Without me, you’re done, too.”
Daria frowned. “What do you mean? What computer room? Is there another— Oh, no. I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“I got a message from Nick a few minutes ago that he received some intel on August’s estate. The office and the computer you were trying to hack is supposedly a decoy. August keeps the real computer setup in a secret room underneath the house. It’s made of solid concrete walls, and the entry door has a keypad. You have to know the code to gain access.”
“Please tell me Nick was able to get the code.”
“He passed along what he thinks might be the code,” he muttered. “Let’s hope it works.”
“Plan B if it doesn’t?” She knew the answer before he said it.
“There is no Plan B. If it fails, we’re going to die together.”
“I won’t accept that. I’ll take one of the Pack with me to finish the job.”
Another man. One of his friends, taking care of his mate while she went into danger. Stupid as it was, a hot spurt of jealousy stabbed his gut. “No.”
“Be reasonable. That wound is going to get infected, and with you sick out here, the op is endangered. I’m the one who knows my uncle’s estate best, secret room or not.”
The leg could damned well fall off before he’d allow her to come back into this hellhole without him. The very thought of having to wait days for word of her safety was enough to make him sick. And if August caught her, she’d die horribly. Disappear without a trace.
“We finish this together or not at all,” he emphasized. His tone left no room for further argument. “End of discussion. Now, patch me up and stop harping at me.”
“Harping?” Daria fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Stubborn, hardheaded idiot!”
She looked like an angry goddess with her shiny raven hair falling around her shoulders. He couldn’t help but manage a tired smile.
“And you are my angel. I’d wrestle all the beasties in the universe for you.”
“Oh, Ryon,” she said on a sigh. The irritation on her lovely face vanished. “You’re impossible.”
“Kiss me,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“I think I can handle that.”
Cupping his cheek, she bent and covered his lips in a slow, tender kiss. So good, so right. A warm, fuzzy haze descended over him and he became weightless. Daria’s touch had a way of banishing the ache in his body, his heart.
As he watched her clean and dress his wounds, he prayed that they would survive this and go home.
Where they both belonged.
• • •
Afternoon light penetrated Daria’s eyelids and she stifled a groan as she awoke from the brief, unplanned nap. Much more pleasant was the weight of warm, solid male draped across her. Too warm. Obviously, he’d needed the rest.
“What am I going to do with you?” she whispered, combing his hair out of his face; then she touched his forehead and uttered a curse. He had a fever. Carefully, she wiggled out of his hold.
Ryon’s lashes fluttered open. For a couple of seconds he seemed confused. Then it passed and he pushed up to a sitting position and gave her a boyish grin.
“Hey, beautiful. I woke up to find my arms empty. Now, why is that?”
“I had to breathe, for one. You were squashing me.”
In an instant, his expression turned sorrowful. “Sorry. Come here and allow me to check your sweet person for bruises.” The predatory gleam in his eyes made her pulse race.
“Oh, you are so bad.”
“I’m trying. A little cooperation, please?”
“Take it easy, hotshot. You’re already getting a fever.”
“Yes,” he growled meaningfully. “I am.”
Ryon patted the blanket beside him and her gaze dipped south. He was gloriously naked, and not a man t
o let an injury get in the way of his desires. “I can see that.”
“See what you do to me?” He cupped the back of her head and drew her to him.
Her mate captured her mouth, tongue sweeping inside, devouring. Hot and demanding, it speared her, darting in and out. Tasting, igniting the flames. He wasn’t asking. This was 100 percent pure male, taking what belonged to him, and it sent a thrill of joy straight into her soul.
He took her hand, guided it to him. “Only yours, angel.”
The smooth texture of him was wondrous. Satin and steel. She was glad she’d undressed before joining him for their nap as he bent and captured one delicate nipple in his teeth. He grazed it, sending little circles of delight through her belly.
His fingers crept along the inside of her thigh until they found her center. They flicked the little nub until she moaned, spreading her legs wider. He dipped two fingers inside, stroking, driving her mad.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “So hot and wet.”
“Ryon, please.”
He gave a wicked laugh, rubbing the sensitive mound with deliberate slowness. Any second, she would fly apart.
“Please what?”
“I need you inside me,” she panted.
Ryon hauled her into his lap facing him, her legs straddling his thighs. He hissed in pain as she bumped his bandages. Before she could scoot off him, big hands encircled her waist. He lifted her slightly, then seated her atop him, burying his shaft deep.
Linking her arms around his neck, she looked into his face, and began to pump her hips. Lips turned up, he gazed back, the raw sexual heat in his eyes threatening to burst her into flames.
“That’s it, ride me. I’m yours,” he murmured.
Daria thrilled at his words, as the two of them joined together. The slick hardness of him, filling her completely. Sliding up and down, she moved slowly at first, needing to become familiar with every inch of him. Every decadent sensation. She leaned into him, stroking her bud along his shaft, flirting with making them both lose control.
