KELSEY WAS SOAKED to the skin and limping, and Gage's last offer to carry her had been met with a snarl. The woman was stubborn, and two hours of hiking through the rain on an injured ankle hadn't dampened her resolve.
He stopped to look around and she bumped into him. He checked his watch and, in the dim green glow of the dial, he glimpsed her face. She looked wet and ragged and in dire need of a hot shower. Plus, she was shivering, probably less from the rain than the still fresh fear of being chased by men with machine guns.
"I'm going to carry you now. No arguments."
Without waiting for a response, he gripped her waist and scooped her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.
As expected she went ballistic.
"Stop it!" She pounded on his back. "Stop it right now! I can walk, damn it!"
"We're going up a hill," he said, carefully balancing his load as he made his way up the steep terrain.
"Put me down!"
"Quit squirming unless you want both of us to fall off this mountain."
She went still, thank God, and Gage adjusted her weight. He felt the backs of her knees under his hands, and her breasts pressing into his back was making it seriously hard for him to concentrate.
Finally they reached the top of the steep incline. A few more steps and they were under the protective shelter of a rock overhang.
Gage set her on her feet and her shoulders quivered.
"You okay?" he asked.
A shudder moved through her and he heard her teeth rattle.
"Here, you're freezing." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. Even soggy and cold, she felt incredible, and he tried not to focus on her body as he shared his heat with her.
"This is so stupid," she muttered. "It's probably seventy degrees out." Her arms went around his waist.
"We're wet. And you're in shock. Getting shot at can do that to you."
"Does it happen to you?" She tilted her head back and he could feel her breath on his neck.
"I'm used to it."
"I thought I was used to it, too, but maybe I need more practice."
He took her by the shoulders and eased her away from him. "When have you ever been shot at before tonight?"
A quiet sigh. "In northern Iraq."
"That's one of the most dangerous places on the planet. What the hell were you doing there?"
She drifted closer and her arms went back around him. "Excavating mass graves. Not everyone was glad for us to be there. We ended up needing an armed guard just to get our work done." She rested her forehead against his chest. "I still have nightmares."
She shuddered again and his grip tightened instinctively. His few objective brain cells were screaming for him to let go of her, but she felt too good. And she smelled too good. And the realization that she wanted this kind of comfort from him was a perverse turn-on. This was the one woman he could not have, and yet he'd never wanted anyone more. What the hell was wrong with him?
She tipped her head back. "Where are we?" she whispered.
"At the petroglyphs."
She pulled away and glanced around. "I didn't realize we were so close to camp. Why'd we stop? Let's just go."
He pulled her behind a rock before switching on his flashlight. No sense broadcasting their whereabouts with a lantern. "I want to look at this ankle." He shrugged out of his rucksack and crouched at her feet. "What'd you do, sprain it?"
"Cut it, going through that hole. Then landed on it wrong."
He shined his flashlight on her leg and pushed her sock down.
"Ouch!"
"Sorry." The swelling wasn't bad. The sock was saturated with blood, though, and he gently pulled it away from her skin. He reached into his pack for a water bottle and doused the cut. It was about three inches long but not too deep.
"We need to get this cleaned up back at the lodge," he said.
"Do you have any alcohol in your pack? Maybe some hand sanitizer?"
"I've got some Super Glue for emergencies," he said. "But a butterfly bandage should do it for something this shallow. You had a tetanus shot recently?"
She didn't answer. He shined the flashlight up at her and he saw she was gazing down at him with the strangest expression.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she whispered. "Nothing, I just..." She lifted her hand and combed her fingers into his hair and the jolt of lust nearly knocked him over. He switched off the flashlight and rose to his feet. Another hand in his hair, then his heart gave a kick as her cool fingers curled against his scalp.
"Kelsey--"
She pulled his head down and kissed him.
SHE FELT HIM hesitate for maybe a half a second. And then his arms wrapped around her and he melded her body against him as his tongue swept into her mouth. For days, she'd had romantic fantasies about kissing him, but she'd been wrong. There was no romance here, just a fierce hunger that thrilled her right down to her toes.
An ache spread through her and she pressed against him, loving the taste of his tongue and the hardness of his body and the surprising softness of his hair between her fingers. He eased her back against a rock, protecting her head with his hand as he held her in place and continued to kiss her as if he'd never get enough, as if he couldn't stop. Something had snapped in him. And she realized that cool disinterest he'd shown her these past few days had been an act. He'd been burning, just like she had. She wished she'd known. She wished she could see his face. She wanted to see the fire in his eyes as he finally let her in on this secret he'd been hiding.
She slipped her hands into the pockets of his jeans and pulled him closer, as close as she could get him. She ground her hips against him and heard the low groan deep in his chest.
He pulled back. "Kelsey--"
She rose up and kissed him again, just in case he was crazy enough to put the brakes on. Something about her uncle. Or her honor. Or some other such bullshit that she didn't want to hear right now.
He pulled back again. "Kelsey, we can't." His voice sounded strained.
"Why can't we?"
He slipped her hands out of his pockets and eased back. "Look... I like you."
Her blood went cold. "Don't say it." She turned away. God, if he used the word "friend" she was going to scream.
"If circumstances were different--"
"Let's just go."
He took her arm and she shook him off. Then she walked away from him, as far as she felt comfortable. It would be just her luck to take a wrong step and tumble off the cliff. She felt mortified. Look, I like you. Who was he trying to convince?
"Can we get back, please?" she asked. "I'm freezing here."
In the darkness, he muttered a curse. He walked over to her, hooked her hand onto his belt as it had been before, and set out for camp.
KELSEY WAS STILL shaking when she whipped her battered Chevy Suburban into the parking lot of the Madrone Hunting Lodge. Fear, embarrassment, anxiety--plus a major dose of adrenaline--were knocking around in her system, making it nearly impossible for her to focus on the task at hand. After enduring an extremely awkward car ride, she now had to relay tonight's discoveries to the sheriff. What had she been thinking? She couldn't have come up with a worse, more inappropriate time to throw herself at a man.
"Aw, shit," Gage said--his first words in half an hour.
The night manager was just switching off the light above the reception desk as Kelsey pulled into a space. Before she'd even parked Gage jumped out of the Suburban and rushed for the door.
Kelsey collected her overnight bag from the backseat and cast a worried look around the full parking lot. Dr. Robles had left a note saying he'd be staying here, and she hoped to hell he hadn't gotten the last room.
A black Explorer on the far end of the lot caught her eye. In the back window was a university parking sticker. Kelsey slammed her door and walked toward the vehicle, a dizzying combination of relief and anger flooding through her. She stopped in front of room 109 and pounded on the
door.
A light went on. Shuffling. A curse as someone stumbled over something. Then the blinds parted and Jeannie peered through the gap. She unlatched the door.
"Dr. Quinn." Her eyes widened as they took in Kelsey's sodden clothes. "Oh my God you're bleeding."
Kelsey nodded at the man sprawled out on the bed amid the rumpled sheets. Dylan didn't even stir. "Where's he been all night?" Kelsey demanded.
"Here with me. And everyone." Jeannie looked sheepish. "See, after our fight? He drove into Marathon to shoot some pool. He came back, though." She smiled apologetically. "We tried to call you but you didn't pick up, so--"
"The next person to leave the dig site without signing out will receive an F for the summer. Do you understand?"
She nodded silently.
"Tell your boyfriend."
Kelsey turned and strode back to the lobby, practically vibrating with fury. If anyone so much as looked at her crosswise she was going to explode.
Gage stepped through the front door of the motel and spotted her. Then his gaze shifted over her shoulder and he no doubt spotted the black Explorer.
"Dylan's back," she said crisply. "Guess it was someone else's SUV I saw earlier."
He handed her a room key and frowned. "You okay?"
"Fine."
"Mind if I borrow your car? I need to run an errand."
"Knock yourself out. Good night." She tossed the car keys at him. He caught them one-handed and she stormed off. The clunky wooden key chain was shaped like a deer and had the number 102 painted on it. Terrific. Right by the lobby, where she'd be sure to get plenty of traffic noise at six a.m.
Kelsey let herself into the room. It smelled like must and pineapple, of all things. She switched on a lamp and threw her bag on the ugly yellow bedspread.
At least Dylan was safe. One potential heart attack down, one to go. Kelsey rummaged through her bag until she found her cell phone. Of course, it had no charge from sitting useless for weeks on end. She jammed the charger into an outlet by the bed and dialed Sattler's number with the cord plugged in. Four rings. Five. Kelsey toed off her Nikes and kicked them across the room. Finally, on the seventh ring, a deputy picked up. After a brief hesitation, he gave her Sattler's home phone number, along with the warning that the sheriff didn't like to be bothered at home unless it was an emergency.
Kelsey stripped off her soggy T-shirt and tossed it on the chair. She dialed Sattler with one hand while searching through her bag for some dry clothes. She still had the shakes, and she wondered whether discovering a covert border crossing and having her ass nearly shot off by men with machine guns constituted an emergency in Seco County. Apparently it did.
"I'll get out there first thing in the morning, have a look around."
The sheriff's patient drawl grated on her nerves.
"Are you sure that's the best approach?" she asked him. "I mean, shouldn't you call Customs and Border Protection or something?" She pulled off a bloody sock and tossed it in the trash can, along with its nonbloody mate. "It seems evident that these roadside deaths might be related and--"
"Why don't you let us worry 'bout that? You stick to your bones."
Kelsey managed not to hurl the phone across the room. "I'm only suggesting that--"
She heard a noise and turned around to see the door opening. Her pulse leapt as Gage stepped into the room, pulling a key from the lock.
"We'll take care of it, Dr. Quinn. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
The phone went silent in her hand. Gage tossed her car keys on the table and leaned back against the door. His gaze met hers across the king-size bed.
"That was Sattler." Her pulse pounded as she clicked off the phone and put it on the nightstand. "He's going to check out the tunnel tomorrow morning."
He pushed away from the door and moved toward her. She read the heated look in his eyes and her stomach did a flip. She stepped back, bumping into the wall, and for the second time tonight she felt foolish.
He stopped in front of her and just stood there, silently. She couldn't talk. Her chest was rising and falling much too quickly, and her legs suddenly felt like noodles.
His gaze dropped to her wet white bra, then lifted. "If you want me to get another room, tell me now."
She didn't say anything. He lifted a hand to her neck and rubbed his thumb over the line of her jaw.
Kelsey opened her mouth but she couldn't talk. His hand trailed down, lightly, and then the warmth of it closed over her breast. He dipped his head down and kissed her mouth, once, twice, three times, as his thumb traced her nipple.
"Kelsey?"
She twined her arms around his neck and pulled him against her.
His body was hard, warm. And she didn't realize how cold she'd been until he started rubbing the heat back into her with his hands and his mouth. He touched her shoulders, her arms, her hips, filled his hands with her breasts. He kissed her ear, the side of her neck. He trailed kisses down her throat, and she tilted her head back to give him a better angle.
"I need a shower," she managed to say.
"Not yet." His hands went around to unhook her bra and then he shoved it aside. His mouth closed over the tip of her breast, and the hot burst of pleasure made her moan and press against him. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, and just when she thought she was going to melt into a puddle he lifted his head and found her mouth again.
There was an urgency to his touch now. He kissed her deeply, hard, and she tightened her arms around him and tried to give as good as she was getting. It was the way he'd kissed her earlier--raw and uninhibited--and she wanted him to keep kissing her like that and never stop. Her bra fell to the floor. She felt his hand at her waist, unbuttoning her shorts, and then they slipped to her feet, and she stepped out of them, never breaking the kiss. She reached for his shirt and pulled it from his jeans, and then he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet so he could walk her backward the few steps to the bed. They bounced onto it together and she yelped.
He covered her mouth with his and pressed his weight into her, and she twined her legs around him and squeezed. He dove for her breasts again, and she held his head in her hands, letting her fingers curl into his hair as he licked his way down her body.
She heard a low groan of approval and propped herself on her elbows.
"Red," he said, shaking his head and staring down at the bottom half of the only girlie clothes she'd packed for the summer.
"Sorry. Haven't done laundry in a while."
He glanced up at her. "Do not apologize." He kissed his way down her legs, then back up again, lingering over the lace with his warm breath. She closed her eyes and lay back, and then she felt him stripping that away, too.
She sat up and looked at him, feeling self-conscious. He was fully clothed, and she scrambled to her knees so she could balance things out. They knelt together on the bed, and she helped him off with his T-shirt. It was wet and cool, like hers had been, but the skin beneath it was smooth and warm. She sat back on her knees to marvel at his perfect chest, and she realized she was looking at the evidence of countless hours of pain and hard work and training, and suddenly her throat tightened. He was a soldier. He would leave soon. He was going to get on a plane and go somewhere and he might never come back.
His hand combed into her hair. He tilted her head back to look at him. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
He leaned her back on the bed again, and then the urgency was back, and she put everything out of her mind except the feel of his mouth on her and the hard, heavy weight of him between her legs. The bedsprings creaked as she wrapped herself around him and pulled him closer, and she sighed at the bittersweet pain of him pressing against her.
"Oh, man," he said huskily.
She rolled her hips, teasing, and he propped up on his hands and smiled down at her in the lamplight.
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you? I haven't done this in a while."
She felt a surge of hap
piness. A smile and a personal admission all in one moment. "You going to embarrass yourself?"
He huffed out a laugh, and she saw the strain on his face. She loosened her grip on him and he stepped away from the bed to peel off his wet jeans. Her stomach fluttered as she watched him. Oh, God. She was the one who was going to embarrass herself. He dug a condom out of his pocket and put it on, all the while watching her. Was that the errand he'd run? Suddenly his rejection at the dig site stung a little less.
He knelt between her legs, and then he was kissing her again, and she tasted his desire for her and none of it mattered, not his leaving or that this relationship was going nowhere. She just wanted to give herself to him and take whatever he had to give her in return.
As she opened herself up for him, their gazes locked and he pushed inside her. He watched her--his face taut--going slowly at first, and then harder, faster. Then his eyes drifted shut, and she wrapped her arms around him and urged him on with her hips.
"Kelsey, baby--"
She squeezed tighter. She lost her mind in a white-hot blaze of pleasure that went on and on and on until she thought she would die. And he held her through it, and then finally, amazingly, he gave a last powerful push and collapsed on top of her.
The moment stretched out. Neither of them said anything. Kelsey wasn't sure she could. She felt spent, boneless, too wasted to move. So she lay there with her heart thrumming underneath his and kept her eyes closed. Finally he lifted his weight off her and she took a deep breath.
He rolled onto his back and pulled her with him.
"They gave you a key," she murmured.
"I gave you a key." He tucked her head under his chin. "It's my room."
She gazed up at the meandering crack in the ceiling. This place was a dump, and yet she didn't want to be anywhere else. Maybe it was the way he seemed so comfortable, lying there with his arms around her. Or maybe it was the way her head fit so naturally against his collarbone. She never wanted to leave.
"You finally stopped shaking."
She tipped her head back to look at him. "You warmed me up."
He ran his hand over her hip and she closed her eyes.
"I get them, too, sometimes. The flashbacks."
She opened her eyes, shocked. She never would have expected him to bring that up again, and definitely not while they were naked together for the first time. She waited for him to go on but he didn't.