Not bloody likely.
“Does this remind you of anything?” she asked from behind him. The path had narrowed and he had taken the lead.
There was an amused edge to her voice that should have alerted him.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I’d say it looks like most forests around here.”
She knew he was being purposefully obtuse. She was remembering all those times before, just as he was—how easily they slipped back into their old camaraderie. If he turned back around, he wouldn’t be surprised to see her lips slam shut, hiding the tongue that he suspected was aimed at his back.
But it wasn’t just camaraderie, it had always been more than that. And stirring up memories best forgotten was dangerous. He’d touched her, damn it. In a way he’d never forget. He’d die with the memory of that silky, wet flesh, the tightness, how her hips had moved against him, and hearing the little breathing sounds she’d made as he stroked her.
Christ, he got hard just thinking about it.
“It reminds me of when I used to sneak away to meet you,” she said, refusing to be put off.
This time he didn’t turn around. He feared if he saw that look of expectation and hope in her eyes again, he’d do something foolish. Like pull her into his arms and kiss her in a way he’d never dared to do all those years ago.
After a few moments of silence, he knew something was wrong. She was too quiet.
He turned his head and stopped dead in his tracks. His heart thudded to a skittering halt, his pulse leaping right out of his chest.
His eyes scanned the area behind him, but he already knew: Helen was gone.
Eighteen
Helen didn’t want the day to end. Her long siege was toppling the wall Magnus had erected between them, and he was close to surrender.
The memories were drawing them back together. So when they passed the stack of boulders, and she saw the small opening, she entered it. Her hiding and him finding her was a game they used to play. It had started after she’d boasted that she’d always been able to hide from her brother, and Magnus told her she would never be able to hide from him. She’d set out to prove him wrong, onlyhe’dproved to have an uncanny ability to ferret her out—the blighter!
To her surprise, the boulders she’d noticed were actually the entrance to a small cave. The darkness and dank smell gave her second thoughts, but she sniffed and, not detecting any musky scents that might harken a beast who wouldn’t like being disturbed, cautiously stepped inside. Magnus’s shout a few moments later propelled her forward another few steps.
She blinked rapidly, trying to get her eyes to adjust, but the darkness in front of her was impenetrable—a black hole of nothingness. The cave must be deep. She shivered, deciding to go no farther. Magnus finding her was the best part of the game anyway.
The cave didn’t just swallow the light, it also swallowed sound. Magnus’s shouts were growing fainter. Her heart pounded. Or maybe he’d started to look in the other direction?
Suddenly, she had an uneasy feeling about this. His warnings about the mountains came back to her. And belatedly, she remembered her promise not to go anywhere alone. Perhaps this hadn’t been the most well-thought-through idea…
Crack.
Her pulse shot through her throat at the soft sound from near the entrance. “M-Magnus?”
Why wasn’t he calling her name?
If he was trying to scare her it was working. Quelling the urge to retreat into the cave, she took a few tentative steps forward. “This isn’t funny.” She shouted a little louder, “Magnus!”
Her heart stopped. Fear washed over her in an icy rush. Someone was there. Right by the entrance. She could feel the heaviness in the air. “Ma…” Her voice strangled in her throat.
But then the air shifted and the sensation was gone. It must have been her imagination.
“Helen!”
Relief crashed over her; Magnus was close.
“I’m here!” she shouted, slipping out from behind the rocks.
He was about ten feet away, but the moment he saw her, he seemed to close the distance between them in one stride. He took her by the shoulders, gave her one long look as if checking to make sure she was in one piece, and then hugged her so tightly against his chest she could barely breathe. “Thank God,” he murmured against her head.
Pressed up so snugly against the hard wall of his chest, she could feel the frantic pounding of his heart begin to slow. He was usually so calm and steady, it took her a moment to realize what it was. She nuzzled her cheek against the soft, fuzzy wool of the plaid he wore around his shoulders, letting the warmth of his body ease the chill from her bones.
