Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(17)
“Oh, shit,” Vanessa breathed after turning around, and Rock couldn’t help but think, oh, shit, indeed.
Because, pretty as you please, on the back of the sticker was the tiny wiring indicative of a radio-frequency device. The thing was incredibly low-tech, likely only detectable from within a hundred yards, but it was enough. More than enough. Anyone who’d ever set off an alarm at a department store knew just how well RFD tags worked.
Vanessa started shaking her head. “Oh, geez. Oh, geez. I’m so sorry, I—”
“Doesn’t matter now,” he told her and, as if on cue, a bullet smacked into the tree they were hiding behind.
Quickly pocketing Vanessa’s phone, he bent to grab a small stone. Attaching the RFD to the rock, he wound up and sent the sucker flying. A couple of heartbeats later, the sound of gunfire moved off in the direction of his pitch.
“Now’s our chance,” he said, once again reaching for her hand.
He tried, he really tried, not to let the fact that she didn’t hesitate to lace her fingers with his turn his insides to goo. And, oui, if he was being honest with himself, he failed miserably on that front. Because, despite everything, despite the fact that they were running for their very lives, it felt good to have someone beside him, to have her beside him.
He’d been alone for far too long…
Of course, her intense fear of the dark and trying to evade the masked men whose rate of gunfire exceeded their rate of discussion at about a thousand to one probably had a lot to do with her willingness to participate in the whole hand-holding thing. But at this point he’d take what he could get.
“Where to?” she whispered, glancing around, blinking against the dimness.
And the answer to that question wasn’t anything she was going to like. So he simply squeezed her fingers reassuringly and tugged her out from behind the tree. Breaking into a steady jog, keeping one ear cocked to the sounds of the teams scouring the jungle behind them, he threaded his way through the dense undergrowth, using his keen sense of direction and the few landmarks available in the shady mass of grayish-green to help him navigate. A couple of interminable minutes later, they reached their destination…a steep embankment that led to the river below. And after the darkness of the jungle, the break in the canopy and the resultant moonlight beaming down on them seemed bright as a spotlight.
“Merde!” It suddenly occurred to him that this might not have been the best move. “I didn’t think to ask before but…can you swim?”
“You’re looking at the women’s one-meter diving champ at McLane High in Fresno,” she said.
Rock breathed a quick sigh of relief while simultaneously wondering if there was anything this woman couldn’t do. So far, she’d managed to locate him when Uncle Sam’s most skilled agents couldn’t, track him through the jungle even when he was trying to outpace her, and outrun the hit squad that’d been sent in to put his head on a platter.
Damn impressive.
And before he could think better of it, he blurted, “If we had more time, I’d be sorely tempted to kiss you smack on the lips right now.”
And then it was as if his wish was granted. Because everything came to a stop, the world ceased spinning in its orbit, and she turned to stare up at him, hope and desire and something he dare not name glittering in her dark eyes. “Rock, I…” Her voice trailed away as she took a short, hesitant step in his direction.
Seemingly of its own accord, his chin dipped down.
Right there. Her succulent, heart-shaped mouth was right there, and, mon dieu, her breath was warm. Her thigh bumped his, and he leaned forward, and—
The sound of a twig snapping behind them had them jerking apart and leaping over the embankment. Holding on to each other, propping each other up as best they could, they skidded and slid down the sheer grade. Reaching the bottom, they stumbled into the cool, fast-moving water.
Rock had to release Vanessa’s fingers as the current took their feet out from under them, and he immediately missed her warmth, the soft feel of her small hand tucked trustingly within his own. But he had only a moment to consider what a colossally dumbass notion that was—what a colossally dumbass move kissing her would have been—because the current picked up and, suddenly, it was game on.
For several minutes, all either of them could manage was to tread water as the river took them where it wanted. And even though the water was a welcome reprieve from the stagnant jungle heat, Rock couldn’t enjoy the dunking—and the resultant cooling effect it had on his overheated libido—because his heavy pack kept trying to drag him under. He fought it along with the current, all the while scanning the northern embankment for the spot where the rocks protruded into the water. There, in that one particular spot, they could exit the river without leaving any telltale footprints.
Where is it? Where is it? Where—
Ah, there it is!
“Head for the rocks!” he managed even though his mouth was full of water. Good thing he was an ex–Navy SEAL and felt as at home in the drink as he did on dry land, or else the repeated pull of his pack against his shoulders would’ve had him settling to the bottom of the river to serve as food for the fishes. As it was, he had to kick with everything he had in order to keep his head above the water.
“The current’s too strong!” Vanessa sputtered, splashing beside him as she fought against the raging river.