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When he reached the edge of the water, breath heavy from exertion, he realized the wreckage blocked his path behind the waterfall. That left swimming to reach her. Which could fuck up his gun. He wasn’t chancing leaving it on the shore this time. He didn’t know who else was out here in this jungle.
He leaned forward to rest his hands against his thighs, sucked in air. Crimson droplets dripped down onto his hands. Swiping a hand across his brow, he realized he was bleeding.
Screw it.
He thought about yelling for Lauren, but didn’t want to tip off any other terrorists hiding in the jungle. Then he remembered the light he’d seen in the cave. Moving around the far side of the lagoon, he climbed the hillside until he found what he’d been hoping for. An opening in the rocks. A tunnel that looked like it went through on this side.
He tucked the gun his pants, braced his hands on the rock walls and picked his way across jagged stones that bit into his bare feet. The tunnel was narrow, but tall enough so he could stand. The rich scents of earth and decay met his nose as he moved. Ahead, the tunnel curved to the left, and the echo of water slapping rocks drifted in.
Relief pulsed through him as he stepped down onto the flat shelf of limestone near the water’s edge and saw Lauren standing in the light, staring out at the water. She was nothing but a dark silhouette against the brightness of the morning behind her, but from where he stood she looked like an angel. A sultry, sexy, gorgeous angel who’d been sent from above to watch over his ass.
He breathed deep. “Told ya I always turn up.”
She whipped around. Froze. But even in the darkness of the cave he saw her eyes fly wide open. “Finn!”
He caught her in both arms before she knocked him back against the wall. Warmth spread through his chest, condensed around his heart as she grabbed on tight. He pushed the pain in his head to the back of his mind. Her naked skin filled his hands, pressed up against his body, reminding him just what they’d done only minutes ago in that water. What he desperately wanted to do with her again. As soon as they were out of this mess and he could get her alone.
“You son of a bitch!” She smacked his shoulder hard. Then she cringed as if she’d hurt her hand. “I thought you were . . . When I heard the gunfire and that explosion . . .” Her voice hitched. “Dammit, Tierney. You scared the shit out of me.”
She eased back but he caught her arms before she could pull away, rubbed the sting from her hand. Her eyes filled with worry as she focused on his face. “You’re bleeding.” Her hands flew up to touch his forehead. “You’re hurt.”
He pulled her arms down. “I’m fine. Just a scratch.”
“But—”
“I’m okay, Lauren. Trust me. I’ve been through a lot worse.”
Her mouth slid closed but the fear remained. And he knew what she was feeling because he was feeling it, too. He wasn’t ready to leave her. He’d thought he would be, thought he could walk away from her when all was said and done, but knew now he couldn’t.
“Yer not getting rid of me that easy,” he said softly.
Her gaze held his, and tears filled her brilliant eyes.
“You’re toying with me, Tierney. I may be tough, but I don’t know how much more I can take.”
He didn’t know how much he could take either. His chest was strung tight as a drum as he stood staring at her, but it was nothing compared to what he’d experienced when he’d thought he might lose her.
“Come here.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She answered by wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on as if she never wanted to let go.
And he knew in that moment he could easily spend the next hour—the next year if she let him—wrapped in her embrace. But the rational side of his brain said he needed to get her out of here ASAP.
He eased back from her mouth, rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, marveled at how she’d turned his life on its axis in a mere matter of days. Forget rescuing hostages from South American gangs or protecting presidents. Right here, right now, this woman . . . this was the most important assignment of his life.
Reluctantly, he let her go, pulled the shirt from his back pocket, then shot her a half-smile he hoet,lped calm her nerves and his as well. “I didn’t have a chance to grab yer orange flip-flops. This’ll have to do.”
She took the black buttondown from his hands, and looked at the dirt-strewn rayon. “Now you owe me new clothes on top of the shoes? Oh, I sense a whole shopping spree in my near future.”
He sensed a lot more in her near future. A lot more of him. If she’d have him. As she tugged his shirt on and buttoned it, he realized the idea sounded good. It felt right. And though the realization still scared the shit out of him . . . it didn’t make him want to run screaming for the hills.
He grasped her hand and pulled her away from the water toward the back of the cave. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
He led her out the tunnel, careful to go slow over the sharp rocks so she didn’t re-injure the bottom of her foot. When they reached the sunlight, she squinted at the brightness, glanced around the jungle with a wrinkled brow. “Half a mile? That’s it?”
“At the most.” He just hoped like hell there weren’t any more surprises along the way.
They headed east. Found what appeared to be a seldom used road. The jungle pushed in from both sides but didn’t hide the path. They made it a quarter of a mile before they heard the whine of an engine somewhere close.
“Finn?”
