Hunter's Heart (Alpha Pack #4)(58)

Next he made a cut from each armhole in order to let the garment fall away from her skin without jostling the snake. Last, he tugged the shirt from her waistband, inch by torturous inch, until all that remained to be done was lift it away-hitchhiker and all.

Moving around to her front, Ryon knelt between her splayed legs. Sweat trickled into his eyes. He swiped an arm across his brow, then began to pull the shirt off, gathering it at her stomach. He looked into her white face and nodded.

"I'm going to put my hand underneath the snake to support it as I lift it away. Here goes."

Ryon carefully slid one hand under the bundle, the other on top. He had to resist the strong urge to lurch to his feet and sling the creature. A sudden move, however, would result in one of them getting bitten. Legs shaking, he stood with agonizing slowness. As he did, part of the mutilated material slid off the creature to reveal its head and color pattern.

Red and yellow kills a fellow, red and black, friend of Jack. His heart slammed painfully against his ribs. Death rested in his hands. Awake now, the coral snake raised its head to stare at him with cold, beady eyes, tongue flicking. Never taking his attention from the serpent, Ryon continued to back away from Daria until he was positive she was out of danger.

With all his strength, he flung it far out into the forest.

"Oh God!" Daria's voice broke and she buried her face in her hands, elbows on her knees. "I sat down to rest and that thing crawled up my arm and into my shirt. I couldn't move."

Ryon reached her in two long strides and sat on the log beside her. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and gathered her against his chest. His body leapt to painful awareness of hers pressed close, trembling, her skin smooth as silk under his roughened palms. Her dark head was tucked under his chin, one hand clutching the front of his shirt as though she'd never let go. Fierce protectiveness swelled around his heart, making his chest ache.

"It's all right," he crooned. "You're okay. I'm here, baby." He murmured other things too, lilting words he knew she didn't catch-but she didn't have to know their meaning to allow them to soothe her. She began to relax.

"Never run from me again," he rasped. "Never. Swear it to me."

"I swear."

For a while she was content to let him hold her, accepting the comfort he offered. At last, she drew away and wiped at her face. He felt the loss of her warmth, immediate and disconcerting.

She heaved a deep, shaky breath and Ryon tried not to stare at the ample swell of her creamy br**sts. The lacy scrap of material posing as a bra didn't do much to hide them, and now wasn't the time to indulge in some afternoon delight. With an effort, he moved his gaze north and kept his attention focused on her face. Mostly.

"Thank you." She sniffed.

He cleared his throat. "You're my mate. There's no way I'd let anything happen to you."

"I'm sorry I left without telling you." She stared at the ground, miserable. "But I can't give up, Ryon. I can't just leave without getting the information we need."

Ryon gaped at her. "Are you kidding me? Daria, meeting up with a poisonous snake is only one of a hundred dangers you could've run up against. You promised me you wouldn't run again."

"And I won't. But what August is doing is terrible, and stopping him will save lives. I need your help to bring him down."

"To help Ben, you mean," he said bitterly. Instantly, he regretted letting out the green-eyed monster, but she took his hand, shaking her head.

"Not just him. Everyone who's been ruined by him, Bowman, and Malik. This might be our only chance."

Exasperating woman! "I'll think about it, but that's all I'm saying." Ryon stood and offered her his hand. "Do you have an extra shirt?"

A flush colored her cheeks and anger flashed in her eyes, but she nodded and took his hand, allowing him to help her up.

Daria fished through her pack for the garment. Ryon was disappointed when she brought forth a camouflage T-shirt and slipped it over her head, covering her beautiful skin. He didn't know what he wanted to do more-strangle her or make love to her. Then she walked the few yards to where her mangled black shirt rested on the ground, poked it with her foot, stooped, and retrieved it.

"Never know when a rag might come in handy," she speculated, stuffing it into her pack.

Ryon didn't answer. Had he detected a sound to the west? A movement? The hair on the back of his neck prickled, but it could be his overwrought imagination, nothing more.

A flash of metal through the trees caught the corner of his eye a split second before he spun, bracing the M16 at his shoulder.

"Daria, go!" he shouted.

To her credit, she didn't hesitate. She swept the pack onto one shoulder and bolted in the opposite direction as the forest came alive with bodies.

The figures seemed to detach themselves from the forest wall like demons from the underworld, come to claim his soul. And he should know.

But not today, dammit. He sprayed the area with a round of ammo to buy them precious seconds. The men fell back, ducking behind cover, giving Ryon an instant to whirl and sprint after Daria before they returned fire.

She negotiated the undergrowth like a swift deer and he had to work to catch up. He barely heard the rhythmic tap of the gunfire over the blood rushing in his ears. He'd almost reached her when she stumbled over a root and went sprawling with a cry. He paused a beat long enough to grab the back of her shirt, yank up hard, and drag her in his wake.