She squeezed, turned to look at him, and blinked.
He blinked back and she actually fucking smiled, the taste of blood in her mouth like victory.
They were together now, as solid as the rock beneath them, and nothing in the world would change that.
“Leo.” With a lopsided grin, he dropped and rolled toward her, so close she felt the cold coming off him. “Made it.”
With a weak laugh, she strained up and pressed her lips to his, surprised to find heat beyond the first wet touch. “Where’d you lose your pants?”
“Well, shit” came a voice from above. “Look at this.”
***
Finally, Ash got a good look at his quarry.
While Deegan dropped to the wide rock on which the two lay beached, Ash stayed out of sight and watched from above, fascinated. And not the least bit disappointed.
They were wonderful, poignant in a way he couldn’t explain. First of all, they’d been kissing when Deegan had so rudely interrupted. A true couple, then. Together. That twisted Ash’s stomach up into knots. The nice-looking Black woman—the pilot, he surmised—lay half on her side, one hand entirely hidden within the huge bloke’s grip. And blimey, what a specimenhewas. Big-boned, muscular, raw in a wild sort of way.
“Hands up.” Deegan stood a few feet from the couple, his rifle trained on one or the other, blustering blindingly ahead yet again. “Where’s Campbell Turner?” Ash backed up another step. Could the man truly be so stupid? “Where’s Turner? We want Turner.”
Do we, though?Leaving Deegan to it, Ash went to his raft and rummaged amongst his things for fire-making supplies. The water was too loud to hear the exchange between the three of them, though he couldn’t imagine they were making any headway. Loaded down with his things, he returned to the ledge. “Shall I light a fire?”
They looked at him, the man’s brow tight with distrust, the woman obviously calculating, and then Deegan, wide-eyed and clueless. Where on earth did they find this man? “One of them is bleeding, Deegan.” He eyed them and pointed his chin at a stain on the rocks. “Appears they both are.”
The woman put a hand on the rocky incline and pushed, only to collapse onto her arse, shaking and oozing blood all over the place. From her head, her mouth. The man was doing more of the same. They were a mess.
And yet, still alive.
He breathed deep. “They can hardly move. They’ll die of exposure. How does that help us? Hm? Ever questioned someone as they freeze to death?” Unsurprisingly, Deegan didn’t reply. With a sigh, Ash piled his supplies within view of the couple: a Mylar blanket, his sleeping bag, some clothing. He smiled, shaking his head. “Shoot either one and you lose your edge.” A glance at Deegan showed irritation on the man’s face. Of course he’d be annoyed by Ash showing him up in front of the enemy. But it was time to stop blundering around and finish this job. Even if their goals were wildly different. “Have you called in your team for an extraction?” When Deegan shook his head, Ash cast his eyes to the sky. “If they’ve repaired the helicopter, of course.” He suppressed his smile and turned to the couple. His eyes flicked between them. “You.” He lowered his head to the woman. “Are one hell of a pilot.”
Deegan turned to look at her as if he hadn’t understood this.
“Aside from that, I know nothing about you. And you…” He gave the giant an eager smile. “Where on earth did you come from?”
Neither answered.
“Well, the good thing is that we’ve got time. Haven’t we, Deegan?” Arms full of life-saving supplies, Ash jumped down to their level with a smile. “Not sure the same can be said for you two unless we get you warm.”
***
Leo met Elias’s eye. He didn’t blink or nod, didn’t do a damn thing but look at her. It was all she needed. They’d have one chance to get out of this.
She reached for the knife strapped at her ankle. Elias pushed up to all fours with a growl.
The big blond man approached, leading with his rifle.
Her knife wasn’t there. Shit. Shit! It was lost at the bottom of the river.
She arched, straining behind her for her last remaining blade, and leapt. While she sprang, she heard a scuffle, felt the air change as the big blond man fell. Deegan, the other one had called him. That one—the one whose black hair and tawny skin spoke of South Asian descent and whose accent sounded British—hadn’t shared his own name. Her body slithered forward, right arm whipping out, aiming for his Achilles tendon. And then stopped dead, smashed flat to the stone under his heel. Her numb hand pinned, fingers useless, and before she could do a thing, he was on her, his weight on her back, knee digging into her spine.
He planted a hand on her neck, leaned his weight forward, snatched up her blade, and held it to the side of her head at the opening to her ear. She went dead still. No breathing, no movement whatsoever but the tightly controlled clacking of her teeth.
“I don’t want to kill you. Please don’t leave me without a choice,” he said just loud enough to be heard over the rushing river’s roar. “Now put the rifle down, all right, mate?” He was talking to Elias, she realized. “Throw it in the river. We’re better off without it.”
Elias’s eyes were trained on her attacker with a deadly watchfulness. She’d bet, judging from his expression, that if she didn’t have a knife point literally inside her ear, the man would be dead.
Or maybe not. He was dangerous.
