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CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Water bed rolling lightlybeneath her, Mary Elise struggled to shake off the fuzzy dream remnants of long ago riding in Danny’s warm embrace. A tough proposition when she could still feel the imprint of his strong arms banded around her after he carried her from the car.
The roar of the ocean outside lulled her, but she fought sleep’s call. She brushed the pads of her fingers against the raspy texture of Daniel’s flight suit. The whole dark-wood cabin decor and dim light through thick panes offered an ends-of-the-earth solitude her sleep-mussed brain couldn’t seem to recall why she should resist.
She flicked his zipper tab with one finger. “Were you going to tell me we’re here?”
Daniel jolted as if burned. “Were you going to tell me you’re awake? I almost threw my back out carrying you.”
Angling up on her elbow, she started to bristle, the thrown-out-back comment coming mighty close on the heels of his pale-hag remark. She looked deeper, found an edgy tension in him that she might have attributed to their dangerous position, except with her own eyes opening and her defenses lowering, she recognized the glint well.
Desire. He wanted her. Bad. Or rather, oh-so-good.
A trill of feminine power sounded through her. It had been so long since she’d felt attractive. “Put your back out? Liar.” She sat the rest of the way up and tucked her legs to the side, the gentle glide of the enclosed waves of the water bed undulating against her suddenly sensitive skin. Why had water beds gone out of vogue? She was a fan of the feel. “I think you got a he-man kick out of carrying me in here.”
He snagged his survival vest from the floor beside the bed. “Why don’t you try to sleep? I should be through before you wake up.”
Through? Encroaching panic edged out desire. “Where are you going?”
“To scope the area. Set some warning devices in place.”
Warning devices. Her throat closed. She’d just assumed the distant locale and Danny’s weaponry would be enough protection, and that she and Danny could use this rustic-haven time to sort through past feelings.
Present feelings too.
She wasn’t sure whether to be reassured or scared spitless that he saw the need for more security. Mary Elise swung her legs off the side of the bed. “Tell me what to do.”
“Sleep.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He jerked on the green mesh vest, the knife sheathed in black leather attached to his shoulder a harsh reminder of real-world worries. “Rest. You’re no good to me dead on your feet.”
“Sleep can come later. I may be a little groggy.”
Understatement. She wished Kathleen had been less pushy with the muscle relaxants. “But I’m far from passing out. The sooner we have this place secured, the sooner I can get that rest you keep insisting I need. Do you really think I could just kick back now?”
“You did in the car.”
“That was different. There was nothing I could do.”
He buckled a gear belt around his waist with canteens—a gun holster. He pulled free the 9 mm, tugged out the magazine, checked, clicked it in place again before returning the weapon to the holster with clean efficiency. “Would you mind whipping up something to eat?”
No way was she playing Betty Crocker to his John Wayne. “Oh, yeah, that’s really a pressing survival issue right now after the two Big Macs and order of supersize fries you banged back in the car.”
The first signs of a grin creased the corners of his eyes. “Well, I’m still hungry. You know me. Never full, jaws just get tired of chewing.”
“Great. If Kent finds us, I’ll toss up a smoke screen by burning some fried Spam.”
Mary Elise shadowed him around the tiny cabin, staying smack dab in his peripheral line of sight. Danny swung his foot up onto the arm of the brown plaid sofa and tucked a second knife inside his boot.
Suppressing a shiver over just the thought of him having to use it, she stepped closer. “Give me something constructive to do or I’m going to follow you around and be a real pain in the butt. You should know from our growing-up years, I can do it.”
“You’re already doing it right now,” he mumbled without glancing her way.
“Good. Now give me a job that doesn’t involve a spatula.” Her hand fell to his forearm. Gripped. Held with a determination she infused in her voice as well. “Danny, I won’t be relegated to a passive role ever again.”
He dropped his foot to the hardwood floor, a sigh riding a long trip out his lungs. “Do you know how to shoot?”
