Читать книгу Her Seal Protector - Jillian Burns - Страница 13

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GABBY COULDN’T BREATHE. Her vision wavered. All the greens ran together around her, and then everything turned black in her peripheral vision.

The next thing she knew, her head was cradled in the crook of Clay’s arm and he was stroking her head and murmuring soothing words.

“Just take a deep breath in. That’s it, you’re gonna be fine.”

Gabby opened her eyes. Clay was so close she could see a healthy growth of stubble beneath his dark green face paint. He’d taken off his helmet again, but his sheared hair could’ve been any color between dark blond to black. With a cowardly whimper she grabbed the front of his shirt and clung to him, pressing her nose into his neck.

She felt his arms tighten around her, aware that he was careful to avoid her bandage. And he rocked her, shushing her, even though she wasn’t crying. At that moment she fell just a little bit in love. She wasn’t crazy enough to believe the feeling flooding her heart was real. It was just the situation. The shared danger. The heroism of his rescuing her. What woman could resist that? But still... Right now it felt very real.

She reveled in his comfort while at the same time thinking any minute he would push her away and tell her they needed to keep moving. But he didn’t. He caressed her shoulder, rubbed her lower back. His shirt was wet from sweat and she wanted to unbutton it and slide her hand beneath to feel his heated skin, feel his strong heartbeat.

Sitting here, cradled in his masculine embrace, she wanted to kiss him. And more. She wanted to make love with him. Right now. Before the next snake, or leopard or kidnapper really did kill her.

But, of course, she wouldn’t.

She exhaled, long and cathartic. “Clay?”

“Yeah?” He eased his hold and she raised her head to look into his eyes.

“You’re going to get me home, right?”

His eyes narrowed and he smoothed a hand over her snarled hair, fingering a strand away from her face. “You have my word, darlin’.”

Darling. She’d never been any man’s darling before. Or sweetheart, or any endearment. Of course he didn’t mean it that way. It was just a Southern thing. But she still liked him calling her “darlin’.”

She wanted to stay like this forever, safe in his embrace, secure in the knowledge that nothing could harm her. He wouldn’t let it. But she managed a smile, pushed out of his arms and got to her feet, shaky, but steady enough. “Okay, then.” She wiped her palms on her skirt. “We need to keep going, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he retrieved his knife, reached for his backpack and helmet, and rose in one fluid motion. His smile spoke to her and squeezed her heart.

Snapping his helmet onto his backpack, he led the way, storming forward through the thick vegetation, hacking at vines with his huge serrated knife and glancing back to check on her every once in a while.

She’d give him the thumbs-up and a smile, and concentrate on not falling behind. Her wrecked shoes chafed the backs of her heels, and what parts of her weren’t covered in mud were covered in mosquito bites. But at least they seemed to be heading downhill. Unfortunately, the farther they traveled down the mountain, the hotter it got.

The heat was suffocating; the air so thick, each breath she drew was like drinking. She’d lived through many a blistering summer in South Texas. But none could compare to the humidity of this jungle.

Still, they trekked on for what seemed like hours.

“Want some more water?” Clay’s concerned tone must mean she’d started to lag behind.

She picked up her pace. “No, I’m good.” Despite her thirst, she’d had to...go for a long time now.

Sitting in that hole with James for all day and night, she’d quickly given up any expectations of privacy and did what she’d needed to. James had been oblivious to anything except his own fears and discomforts, anyway.

But this was Clay.

Plus...snakes.

“Well, I could use a rest.” He stopped and pulled out the bottle of water from his pants pocket and handed it to her.

He wasn’t even breathing hard, so she highly doubted he was tired, but he produced a flat, plastic canteen from another pocket, and took a small sip.

This was horrifying and ridiculous at the same time. In a minute she’d have to cross her legs. She might as well get the humiliation over with and admit her dilemma. “Um, I have to...”

He blinked at her. Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Yeah. Sure. Me, too.” His expression reverted to soldier-on-a-mission. “I’ll take the north, you take the south.” With a nod of his head he indicated to his right, then his left. She hadn’t seen him check a compass, so how could he possibly know which way was north?

Even as he disappeared into the vegetation to their right, she stood frozen. The crunching of leaves beneath his feet silenced. But even in the stillness, insects buzzed and birds called. Monkeys chattered. What if he was attacked by an animal or bit by a snake? What if he didn’t come back? Irrational fear seized her. No way could she tramp off into the dense jungle forest alone, no matter how badly she needed to—

“All done?”

Gabby snapped her head toward Clay. “I don’t think I can.”

His gaze drifted away and his jaw muscle ticked. The green face paint was wearing off in patches where he’d wiped at sweat. A shaft of sunlight hit his cheek as he stepped forward. “Sure you can.” He took her arm and propelled her a few feet into the undergrowth. “I’ll be right here. You go ahead, now.” Putting a thin tree between them, he spun on his boot heel and folded his arms, staring off into the distance.

But Clay’s close proximity caused a different dilemma. He might not be able to see her with his back turned, but he would still be able to hear her. Maybe the deafening sounds of nature would drown her out.

But...snakes.

“Um, Clay?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow your knife?”

No answer. Maybe he didn’t trust her with a dangerous weapon. Then he unsnapped the leather holster at his hip and pulled out the wicked-looking knife, flipped it, caught it by the blade and extended the handle toward her.

She swallowed and took it. “Thank you.” Only then did she realize what needed doing actually required two free hands. After dithering a moment, she stuck the handle of the knife between her teeth, thoroughly checked the ground for anything slithering nearby and then got on with it.

When she approached him, he handed her the water bottle without a word and she returned his knife and rinsed her hands, and they headed back to the makeshift path he’d been cutting for them. A wave of exhaustion overcame her when she thought about continuing on. Her back stung. She was hot, and sticky, and her feet burned where the heels chafed, and— “Listen to yourself, you whiny baby! At least you’re alive.”

Clay was waiting for her, watching her with a wary expression. She realized she’d spoken out loud. Great, now he’d think she was bonkers. She knew she tended to talk to herself a lot. Most of the time, it didn’t matter.

“You good to go?” He was waiting for her, so she smiled and nodded, and trudged on.

She lost all sense of time as the day wore on. She thought about being home in San Juan, how glad her parents would be to see her again. About Jorge, and Bernard, and Patricia. She missed them. And she fingered her Mary medal as she prayed to her Abuelita. She couldn’t wait to see Mama and Papa. Finally, twilight settled over the tall trees. Clay hadn’t said a word. Even when he occasionally handed her the water bottle. “By tomorrow I’ll have a cool shower and clean clothes.” One foot in front of the other. “And I’m going to brush my teeth twice, and wash my hair three times and buy a new—”

Clay spun and clamped a hand over her mouth.

* * *

CLAY HELD A finger in front of his lips. He’d heard voices at three o’clock, speaking in what he thought must be Guarani, a native language of Paraguay. That, by itself, didn’t mean much. Over 80 percent of Paraguayans spoke Guarani. And he’d only been able to catch a few words. But one of them had been a Spanish word thrown in: Americano.

They were going to have to double back. He hoped not very far or they risked missing the helo. Then he recognized what else he heard in the distance. The roar of rushing water. They were closer to the Rio Bermejo than he’d thought. Thanks to Gabby’s fortitude, they’d made good time. Even if she had talked for most of the afternoon. He didn’t think she was even aware she’d been talking out loud. And the crazy thing was, he hadn’t minded. He’d liked listening to her voice, liked hearing about her close-knit family.

Mentally going over the map he’d studied on the plane ride down, he guesstimated the distance to the river. If they could travel by water tonight—depending on the current—they could make up the time they’d lose doubling back. He just really hadn’t wanted to travel at night. Lighting their way might as well shine a big bull’s-eye on their position.

But before he could worry about that, they had to avoid detection by the men who’d been asking about the Americanos. Slowly, he lifted his hand off Gabby’s mouth, slid his Sig from its shoulder holster and signaled to Gabby to stay put while he investigated the possible unfriendly’s position.

Careful to step light and move slow, Clay inched up to the edge of the clearing. He took up position behind a tree, pulled out his binoculars and spied a farmer in his wide-brimmed hat leading an ox away from the creek. No sign of anyone else. He scanned the meadow, but daylight was fading fast. Then, on the edge of his vision he caught a shadow. Two shadows. He lifted the binoculars again. They were armed. And they were headed this way.

When he returned to Gabby she was standing exactly where he’d left her, still, and as frightened as a deer in headlights. But she wasn’t panicking. And she’d obeyed his order. Which he hadn’t been sure he could count on.

Knowing how sound could carry, he spoke low in her ear. “We’re turning around. Follow the path I cleared, move quickly, but try to step softly. All right?”

Her breathing was shallow, but she nodded and did as he asked. Clay followed behind her trying to cover their tracks as best he could. He hadn’t disturbed the vegetation at the edge of the meadow. With any luck, the hunters wouldn’t find their trail.

They’d traveled only ten minutes before darkness swallowed the forest and he was forced to click on his pin light. He covered the top and shone it only on the jungle floor, but he still felt like he might as well have gift wrapped their position to the kidnappers. His gut clenched as he heard leaves rustling behind them.

He clicked off the light, grabbed Gabby and pulled her off the path. Hand over her mouth again, he held her still and waited.

Frogs croaked. Crickets chirped. A pygmy owl hooted.

The rustling drew closer. The kidnappers were practically on top of them, the shafts of light from their flashlights barely missing them. Gabby tensed and tightened her arms around his waist. He didn’t know when they’d put their arms around each other, but he lowered his head close to hers and stroked her hair. He still held his Sig in the other hand down by his side, slowed his breathing and prepared to spin and shoot.

The bandits walked right past them. The sounds of their crunching footsteps faded.

Clay became aware of her breathing, her soft breasts pressed against his chest. She lifted her face and her lips brushed his with a quick intake of breath.

He didn’t move, letting his mouth hover over hers. She let out the softest moan. She was so small, petite, the top of her head barely reached his shoulders, but her body was full and lush, her stomach cushioning his growing hard-on.

His blood pounding, his pulse racing, he wanted to take her trembling lips with his so badly.

Don’t do it.

He dropped his hands and stepped back. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep, clearing breath. His mission was hostage rescue. That should be his only thought. Getting Gabby out of Paraguay safe and sound. Not how he wanted to pull her to him and kiss her. And certainly not how he wished he could cup her breasts in his palms, slide his hand—

Right, Bellamy. Get your head in the game. She was his responsibility.

He had to get control of himself and figure out what their next move would be. But, now that the immediate danger had passed, all he could think about was how she’d felt in his arms, how her quiet little moan had made his body come alive.

“Are they— Are they gone?” she whispered.

Snapping back to the here and now, he focused on the sounds of the jungle around them. “Long gone. We’re safe for now.” He holstered the Sig while he ran through various scenarios in his head. Night had shrouded the jungle in darkness. He had his night vision goggles, but Gabby would be left trailing after him essentially blind. And he couldn’t risk lighting their way again. No choice now. “We’ll hunker down here for the night, and then make our way to the extraction point at first light.”

That decided, he slid out his knife, slipped the goggles down over his eyes and cut several large, smooth palm fronds to build a makeshift cover. Chances were it’d be misting, if not outright raining before dawn.

He whispered for Gabby to join him under the leafy umbrella, but she didn’t move. “You checked for snakes?”

He smiled as he flipped the goggles onto the top of his head. “All clear.”

With a brief flash of white teeth, she sat beside him and he retrieved his MRE from his pack and offered it to her. “Dinner is served, ma’am.”

He could tell she was trying not to grab it from him and devour every bite. “Don’t you want some?”

“Not really hungry.” He pushed the ready meal into her hand.

Ignoring his growling stomach, he sipped the last of his water. They’d be at the river by oh-seven-hundred. And back at forward base by lunch. He’d gone way longer than this without eating. Even before he joined the military.

After hesitating a moment, she shrugged and finished off the food in minutes along with most of her water, then borrowed his knife again, along with his night vision goggles, and disappeared a couple of yards away. When she needed to return he called softly so she could sound her way back.

She dropped down next to him, returned his goggles and then scooted closer, leaning on his arm. “How far to the rescue site?”

“Less than a mile, I’d say. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.” He slipped the strap of the goggles over his head and scanned the area.

“Do you think they’ll come back?”

“Doubtful. They won’t want to travel far in this jungle at night any more than we do.”

“Still...”

When she didn’t finish her thought, he asked, “What?”

“Do you have an extra gun?”

He did, but he wasn’t about to give it to her. “You had any training with a weapon?”

“No, but—”

“Tell you what. There are a few basic moves that’ll get you out of any hold.”

“Oh, like self-defense stuff?”

“Yeah, I could teach you a couple, all right?”

“Okay. I should know how to defend myself. That was one of the things I thought of the last couple of da—ys.” A huge yawn interrupted the end of her sentence and her head landed on his shoulder.

“You should get some rest.”

“You promise you’ll teach me those moves?”

Clay smiled. The last couple of words had been mumbled. He’d bet she was barely awake. “I promise.” If they had time, he would. “Now try to sleep.”

There was silence for a moment before she raised her head. “Aren’t you sleeping, too?”

“I’m going to keep watch for a while.”

He heard her exhale a large sigh, and then lowered her head back onto his shoulder. “Okay, good night.”

After less than a minute her head drooped forward, and he slipped his arm around her as she slumped into his lap.

Clay tried to ignore her soft body pressing into him. He listened past the bird calls and chirping insects for any man-made sounds, and scanned the area continuously while his charge slept the sleep of the exhausted, mumbling, at times moaning, or sighing. She wasn’t a quiet sleeper either.

After another moan she turned and nuzzled into his stomach. Great. His body had a will of its own when it came to a woman’s mouth being that close to his cock. His pants got uncomfortable and he tried to slowly shift their positions.

“What?” She lifted her head, the whites of her eyes blinking up at him. She sat up, pushing off his thigh with her hand. Her palm cupped his rock-hard erection. But instead of moving her hand away, she stilled. Several beats passed, yet he allowed her hand to stay where it was. She slowly began to trace his cock up to its root and back down to the tip again.

He bit off a strangled sound. Before he could stop her she cupped his face in her palms and fit her lips to his, at the same time she rose up and straddled his thigh. He pressed her close, all the while his brain was shouting for him to get control. When she rubbed her hot center against him, he got even harder. He hadn’t thought that could be possible. He felt her fingers run over the short hair at the back of his head and he gave in, returning her kiss, coaching her to open to him, deepening it.

Her lips were as full and lush as her body. He cupped and squeezed her butt, and she hummed her approval. He lost himself so much that, when she would’ve pulled away, he followed and lingered, teasing her with his tongue. He wanted more.

She was kissing him for all she was worth, and he was letting her. His mind was thinking any minute now he’d stop. He shouldn’t do this. But his mouth moved over hers with the hunger of a teenage boy.

When she finally came up for air, she was still clinging to his face, stroking his temples. “Make love to me, Clay.”