Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(18)



No. They couldn’t miss this opportunity. Their only hope of survival at this point was escape and evasion. And the first step to accomplishing those tasks was to make sure they got out of this damned river undetected.

The muscles in his legs burned like wildfire, his shoulders threatened to pop right out of their sockets as he battled the heavy current. When he pulled even with Vanessa, he latched on to the collar of her shirt, dragging her with him as he slowly, methodically made his way toward the edge of the river and the quickly approaching rocks. She helped him as best she could, but she was just too light to fight the river on her own.

Still, they only had one shot at this. And the time was…now!

Raking in a deep breath, he allowed himself to sink to the bottom a couple of feet down, grabbing Vanessa around the hips. The instant his jungle boots touched silt, he pushed up with every last ounce of strength he had, catapulting her toward the rocks in the process and managing at the last minute, just barely, to reach out and snatch hold of the large branch that’d fallen across the river.

Instantly, the current caught his legs, trying to yank him downstream, but he gritted his teeth and held on for everything he was worth until he was able to hook his free arm around the branch. Straining, feeling the vein in his forehead pulse in time to his heartbeat, he was finally able to pull one leg away from the grip of the river and hook it over the branch. Wrestling his second leg free required much less effort and suddenly, he was hanging upside down, the river foaming and snarling and rushing beneath his back.

A relieved breath punched from his lungs when, after hastily wiping the water from his eyes, he saw Vanessa crawling onto the rocks. Her head was hanging between her shoulders like a drunk in the street, and she appeared to be coughing up a jungle’s worth of river water, but the important thing was she was safe. They’d made it!

Well, hallelujah and pass the ammunition!

He’d have taken a moment to pat himself on the back—when he’d brainstormed this particular escape strategy, he hadn’t banked on having a woman along for the ride—but he was too busy inch-worming his way along the branch to the water’s edge. Carefully, so as not to leave any trace of their passing, he dropped down onto a wide, flat stone.

“Y’okay, ma petite?” he panted, crouching beside the still-coughing woman.

She glanced up at him, her black hair—no longer contained in a ponytail thanks to the river—plastered wetly to her neck and face, her full lips trembling ever so slightly. But there was fire in her eyes and, once again, he had to give credit where credit was due. Vanessa Cordero was turning out to be one tough cookie. Then, she proved him correct when she said, “Yeah, I—” cough, cough, “I’m okay,” right before she shakily pushed to her feet.

“You can take a minute, chere. Catch your breath.”

“No,” she blinked the water from her eyes. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?” He bent to peer into her face and, in the glow of the moonlight, he was struck once again by how goddamned beautiful she was. And just like that, his libido—the stupid shit—kicked itself into high gear. Because, you know, it wasn’t like he’d just nearly drowned or anything. It wasn’t like he’d just missed getting his head blown off. Twice.

Jesus. No wonder the females of the species tsk-tsked and shook their heads when the conversation turned to men. As a group, they hadn’t evolved much past the caveman stage.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. And to prove it, she began climbing up the rocky embankment, which, of course, gave him another eye-goggling view of her perfect ass and…caveman, indeed. He was hard pressed not to grab the nearest stick, thump her over the head with it, and drag her back to his cavern so he could have his way with her.

And as ridiculous as that last thought was, it still had his dick—otherwise known as the brainless wonder—twitching with interest.

“Goddamn, sonofabitch,” he hissed beneath his breath, disgusted with himself, disgusted with the situation, but, most of all, disgusted by his inability to control his prurient thoughts whenever she was around. Never in his whole life had he reacted to a woman the way he reacted to Vanessa. Maybe it was chemistry, or pheromones, or…hell, maybe it was just the fact that she seemed to have a thing for him. Which, let’s be honest here, was mind-boggling in and of itself. Because she belonged in the centerfold of a men’s magazine and he…well, let’s just say he wasn’t anything to write home about.

“Did you say something?” she turned to look at him, dragging his thoughts back to the situation at hand.

“Nah. Nothin’,” he grumbled even as he started up after her. Of course, he wouldn’t have to worry about the little thing she had for him for much longer, because as soon as she found out what he had in store for them, any warm fuzzy feelings she might think to send his way were guaran-damn-teed to dry up quicker than spit on an Atlanta sidewalk in the middle of July.

Cresting the ridge, he grabbed her hand—oui, that feels about right—and pulled her toward a huge tree that was laying on its side. Pushing the ferns away from the hollow base, he motioned toward the small, dark space with his chin. “After you.”

And just as he suspected, she began vigorously shaking her head, murmuring, “No. Oh… Oh, no,” while backing away with the stubbornness of an old mule that knows it’s headed straight for the glue factory.

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