Читать книгу Stranded With The Navy Seal - Susan Cliff - Страница 13
ОглавлениеWhat was wrong? Was he serious?
She couldn’t believe he’d asked that. He’d lost his damned mind. He was standing at the summit of this bug-infested hellhole like the lord of his domain. He wore a relaxed expression, as if the gut-wrenching view invigorated him.
“We’re stranded on a deserted island. You’re not disturbed by that?”
He raked a hand through his hair, scowling. He didn’t look tired, even though they’d hiked for miles. Sweat dampened his face and shirt, but he wasn’t winded. She felt like she might faint from overexertion. He seemed unaffected by the climb. “I’m trained to stay calm in emergency situations, and to follow a specific survival protocol. You see a deserted island, but I see lifesaving resources.”
“I see a jungle fortress surrounded by sharks.”
He nodded, as if this was a fair assessment. Then he pulled out his phone and checked for service. Yeah, right. Shaking his head, he put it away. “I’m sorry. I should have tried to manage your expectations better.”
“My expectations?”
“I assumed the island was uninhabited, but I didn’t want to demotivate you.”
“You didn’t want to demotivate me,” she repeated dully. She’d turned into a parrot. She was a jungle parrot sidekick in a shredded red dress, with leaves for shoes.
None of this seemed real.
Her stomach dropped as she remembered what he’d said about the possibility of a rescue. She’d been dubious about his claims, but she hadn’t pressed him on it. Now she studied him with new suspicion. He stared back at her, cool as ice. “Do you think they’re looking for us, or did you lie about that, too?”
He tore his gaze away. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you lied?”
“I don’t know if there’s a search effort underway,” he said in a clipped tone. “They send rescue teams to reported accidents, like plane crashes or shipwrecks. Kidnappings at sea, without a specific location...”
Her spirits plummeted. There was no rescue team. What would they look for, other than the pirates? A man or woman overboard had no chance of surviving in the open ocean. Cady and Logan would be presumed dead.
“Let’s focus on the positive,” he said.
She threw back her head and laughed.
“We’re alive.”
She stopped laughing, because she sounded deranged, and he had a point.
“Being on dry land is a vast improvement over the raft. Two or three more days at sea would’ve killed us.”
She let out a ragged breath, fighting tears again.
“As deserted islands go, this one is ideal.”
“How?”
“Most uninhabited islands are spits of sand with a few palm trees and no fresh water. They’re uninhabited for a reason. There’s no way to live off them. This place is different. It has everything we need to survive.”
She studied the green landscape with wet eyes.
He crouched down next to her and pointed at the shoreline. “Look there. Tide pools are easy to forage, and full of seafood. Are you allergic to shellfish?”
“No.”
“Do you like it?”
She nodded, because she did. She loved it, in fact. Shrimp, crab, fish, sushi...she even liked sea urchin.
“And over here, check it out,” he said, moving his finger. “That white line in the rock face is a waterfall.”
“It’s far away.”
“It’s close to the beach, which is where I’d build a shelter. I can make an SOS signal right there on the sand that would be visible from the air. There are coconut trees and palm trees. Maybe some more of that breadfruit.”
“I’ve seen taro plants.”
“Yeah? They have roots you can eat.”
“I know.”
He directed his finger at her. “There’s something special here, too.”
“What?” she asked warily.
“You. You’re a great resource. You’re a chef. You’ve studied the local plants. You can cook the hell out of a fish. You’re also in excellent shape. You’re a strong swimmer. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”
“Now you’re going overboard.”
“I mean it.”
“You wouldn’t rather have another SEAL with you?”
He held her gaze. “There’s no one I’d rather have with me.”
She didn’t know how to feel about this proclamation. The intensity that had excited her at the bar—and terrified her in the aftermath of the kidnapping—was still there, glittering in his eyes. But his brutal actions were no longer at the forefront of her mind. He’d been kind to her. He’d shared his clothing and his body heat on the raft. He was a good man. Although he hadn’t been completely honest with her about their predicament, and she didn’t trust him not to bend the truth again, she felt safe with him. She also knew he wanted her. She tried not to be flattered by his desire, and failed.
He was incredibly charismatic. That was why all of the women on the cruise had been agog over him. It wasn’t just his face, though he had handsome features. It wasn’t just his body, though that was a perfect ten. He radiated strength and confidence. When he focused his attention on her, she turned into mush.
“I’m no survival expert,” she said, glancing away.
“Have you ever been camping?”
“In an RV, with my grandpa.”
“The drill sergeant?”
“Yes.”
“This won’t be like that.”
She laughed again, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “No kidding.”
“How are your feet?”
“Terrible.”
“I’ll rewrap them before we go.”
“Must we?”
“It’s all downhill from here.”
“Ha.”
She spotted an aloe vera plant, so she sent him to pick some for her. While she took care of the cuts on her feet, he applied the slick moisture to his chapped lips and sunburned cheeks. Heavy beard stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked a little rough around the edges, but ruggedly handsome. This environment suited him. It didn’t suit her. She felt sweaty and dirty. Her hair was all over the place. There were oily stains on her dress from the coconut milk. Rugged wasn’t a word used to describe women, so she tried to think of a similar term. Natural, maybe. She was at peak natural right now.
When she was finished with the aloe vera, he rewrapped her feet with new leaves. “We’ll see if we can make it to that beach before nightfall. Then I’ll start a fire. We’ll have a cookout, and sleep under the stars.”
She arched a brow at his fanciful phrasing.
“Too much?”
“Let’s bring it down a notch. You’re supposed to be managing my expectations, remember?”
“Right. Okay, here goes. Let’s try to get as far from the summit as possible before the afternoon rain hits and makes the terrain even more treacherous.”
Well, that wasn’t as upbeat, but she’d asked for it. She noted a few dark clouds on the edge of the horizon and figured this was the likelier scenario. With a low groan, she rose to a standing position. After a quick stretch, she followed him down the hillside. Her arms and legs ached from overuse. She felt like a wrung-out dishrag. Logan, on the other hand, appeared hale and hearty as hell. Damn his rugged ass. She stared at his broad shoulders, remembering how his muscles had bunched beneath her fingertips, and how easily he’d lifted her.
It started raining.
He kept going.
She tried to be strong and brave and a team player, but it was just beyond her. She was soaked from head to toe. Her energy was sapped. Hiking uphill while wearing leaves for shoes was difficult. Downhill, on wet ground...it was impossible. She slipped and fell hard, right on her butt. Although she had plenty of padding there, it didn’t feel sufficient. She felt like she’d gotten spanked by the island, big-time.
She didn’t get up. She rolled onto her side and cried.
He knelt next to her. His hand rested on her waist. Instead of asking questions, he waited for her to compose herself.
“I’m okay,” she said finally. “I just fell.”
“Where does it hurt?”
She gestured to the general vicinity. The back of her dress had ridden up, exposing her sore, muddy bottom. He swept his palm over her abused flesh, squeezing gently. Then he gave her a soft pat of sympathy.
“I don’t think anything’s broken,” he said.
“Are you a medic, too?”
“No.”
She tugged her dress into place, suspecting he’d enjoyed that exam a little too much. He winced as he staggered upright, as if his knee was bothering him. The injury reminded her that he was a human being with real weaknesses. He wasn’t impervious to pain. He schooled his expression quickly and helped her to her feet.
“We need to find shelter for the night.”
Unfortunately, there were no convenient cabanas to duck into. There wasn’t even a dry rock to crawl under. She trudged along behind him, her head down. She was cold and wet and her butt hurt. The only pace she could manage was slow. The rain dissipated. The slope of the hillside became less severe, and the foliage grew thicker.
In the gathering dusk she imagined a lot of creepy crawlers that probably weren’t there. Spiders hanging from the trees. Centipedes scuttling through wet leaves on the ground. Poisonous frogs, pit vipers and tiny, flesh-eating parasites.
Then the mosquitos descended, and she wished for anything but them. She waved the buzzing nuisances away from her ears and wrapped the tulle around her head in an attempt to protect her face.
When a mosquito bit the tender flesh behind her knee, she shrieked in protest. “I’m getting eaten alive!”
“So am I,” Logan said, slapping his neck. “This sucks.”
“Literally!”
He dragged her toward a large rock formation that rose up in the gloom. Its mossy surface was covered in vines, hiding what appeared to be the mouth of a cave. He had to push aside the foliage to gain entry. It was pitch-black inside, and smelled bad. It was the least inviting shelter she could imagine, but she would’ve gone into Satan’s lair at this point. She held his hand in a tight grip as they ducked into the cave.
“I don’t know what’s in here,” he whispered.
“As long as it’s not more mosquitos.”
He stayed still for several moments, breathing hard in the dark quiet. “We can’t explore the interior.”
That was fine with her. She had no desire to explore. None whatsoever. Her eyes adjusted to the lack of light in slow increments. He sat down with his back against the cave wall. She wanted to curl up next to him, but she wasn’t sure which side of him was safer.
What if a wild animal wandered in?
What if one tried to get out?
“Here,” he said, splaying his legs. She settled between them, her back against his front. He put his arms around her. He was wet, but warm. His heartbeat pounded in a strong, steady rhythm. Fast, but not too fast, like hers. He was alert, rather than panicked. That was comforting. She could count on him to stay calm even when she was freaking out.
“What’s that smell?” she asked. “Rats?”
“Bats.”
Ugh. The hairs at her nape prickled at the thought of them flapping around her curls. Their nasty little teeth and leathery wings. At least the cave was free of mosquitos. She’d die of rabies, instead of malaria. “Can you make a fire?”
“Not without dry wood.”
She tried not to squirm around too much, but she was uncomfortable. The ground was hard against her sore bottom. She was hungry and thirsty.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Where do you live?”
“I lived in San Francisco, until recently. I left a few months after I broke up with Andrew. It seemed better to make a fresh start. Right now I’m staying at my parents’ house in Long Beach.”
“I still live with my parents.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. I’m overseas a lot, and they have a guest house. It works out.”
“Where is it?”
“Del Mar. It’s a suburb of San Diego.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“Born and raised.”
Her grandparents lived in San Diego. She was stranded on a deserted island with a fellow Southern Californian. What were the odds?
“Did you grow up in Long Beach?” he asked.
“Close. Irvine. My parents moved because my mom got a job offer there. She’s a high school principal.”
“A principal and a cop for parents?”
“Sounds fun, right?”
“Were you a rebellious teenager?”
“Not really. Were you?”
“Nah. I was a mama’s boy. Still am.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty. You?”
“Twenty-seven.”
He grunted in response, shifting his injured knee.
“Am I hurting you?”
“You’re fine,” he said gruffly. “You should try to get some sleep.”
“What will we do tomorrow?”
“Find water. Make a fire. Build a shelter.”
She groaned at his overzealous to-do list.
“The beach isn’t far. Tomorrow will be an easier day.”
“I doubt there will be any easy days on this island.”
“Maybe not, but we’ll live.”
“You sound confident.”
“I am.”
“Have you ever failed at anything?”
He didn’t answer. When silence stretched between them, she realized this was a touchy subject. More painful than his busted knee, perhaps. She wondered if he’d failed to complete a mission, or failed to protect someone.
“I should have thanked you for saving me,” she said.
His arms tightened around her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s a big deal,” she insisted. “You risked your life.”
“It was the least I could do,” he said. “You got kidnapped while you were with me. Because you were with me.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“I convinced you to leave the bar.”
She hadn’t needed much convincing. She flushed a little, remembering how uninhibited she’d been. How she’d devoured his mouth in the hallway. “I wouldn’t have done the same if our situations were reversed. I wouldn’t have started swimming after you.”
“I’m trained for combat and water rescue. You’re not.”
She didn’t think it was only a matter of training. He was a hero by nature. She wasn’t. She’d been frozen with fear during the attack, and for hours after. The same thing had happened when she’d witnessed her grandfather’s death. She’d been catatonic, unable to move or speak. Unable to help.
She wasn’t calm in emergency situations. She didn’t like taking risks, or stepping out of her comfort zone. Whenever she did, she regretted it. This situation was a prime example. Her first attempt at a one-night stand had resulted in her kidnapping. It couldn’t get any worse than that! She didn’t embrace danger, like Logan. As grateful as she was to be under his protection, his presence set off major emotional warning bells for her.
She had to be careful with him. She was still trying to move on from her last romantic disaster. He was clearly a no-strings type, and a magnet for adoring females. He’d caught the eye of every woman on the cruise. She couldn’t afford to get attached.
But keeping her distance wasn’t an option, so she pushed aside her misgivings and settled against him. He made a warm, steady wall behind her. She felt safe in his arms. Although the chemistry between them was still there, she wouldn’t act on it. They weren’t going to finish what they’d started on the dance floor.
That ship had sailed—literally.
Their almost-hookup had been a once-in-a-lifetime thing. A perfect storm of physical attraction and opportunity that couldn’t be re-created. Even if she’d wanted to take the risk, there was nothing remotely sexy about their current situation. They were in a bat-infested cave. She was covered in mud. So was he.
She closed her eyes, determined to ignore the exciting male contours of his body, and the dull throb of cuts and bruises on her own. She tried not to worry about what might befall them tomorrow. He’d advised her to focus on the present, and think positive. Tonight they were alive. She was exhausted, but unharmed.
Then a dark blanket of fatigue settled over her, and she drifted off.
