When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)(45)
“Come on,” he said. “Grab me. I’ll pull you to safety.”
She frowned and shook her head. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not. You’re inexperienced. Take my hand.”
She glanced at him. “I’m not doing that, Angel. If I stop paddling I’ll—”
Her boat spun away and she screamed. Angel dug in deep, paddling toward her as quickly as he could. But she was caught in some current he couldn’t see, and no matter how hard he stroked, she kept slipping farther and farther away.
“Taryn!” he yelled, furious at her for not reaching out to him and at himself for not taking better care of her.
She did her best to keep her kayak pointing downriver and toward the shore. The water flowed faster and faster. Suddenly her boat shifted left, then right. It turned around completely and she nearly lost her paddle. She bumped over rocks and screamed again, only to disappear around a narrow bend.
Angel paddled as quickly as he could, searching as he went, wondering how long it would be before he saw her overturned kayak floating ahead of him or bumping into shore.
He reminded himself she was wearing a life jacket and the water wasn’t deep. Sure, it was cold, but she could survive for a few minutes, until he could pull her to safety. Only the tightness in his chest warned him there were a thousand ways she could be injured in seconds on the river. Or worse.
He alternately prayed and swore as he paddled down the river and yelled her name. He saw nothing on either side, nothing in the water. Then he spotted the kayak pulled up onshore and Taryn standing next to it.
He surged forward, willing the boat to go faster. The bow had barely touched land before he was out and running toward her. She stood in place, her face pale, her arms tight across her chest. She was dry, he noted as he grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, his voice harsh and loud. “You could have been killed. You don’t know what you’re doing. Why didn’t you grab my hand? Goddammit, that’s all you had to do.”
* * *
TARYN KNEW IN her head that eventually the shaking would stop. The adrenaline would fade and she would be able to breathe and talk and think. But right now there was only trembling and the exhaustion left behind as the fear slowly drained away.
Angel glared at her, his fury tangible. She wasn’t afraid of him—she understood she’d scared him. She’d scared herself. When the water had captured her, she’d wondered if she was going to drown on a stupid river in some backwoods wilderness outside Fool’s Gold.
She’d fought to stay in control of her kayak. She’d learned that much from the videos she’d watched on YouTube. She’d tried to point the bow in the direction she was going—sort of like coming out of a skid in her car. Only the river had been way more powerful and she’d been swept away.
Once she’d rounded the second bend, the water had slowed and she’d been able to paddle to shore. What had seemed like a lifetime had probably taken thirty seconds. Now she was left with the physical aftermath and the terrified, angry man standing in front of her.
“Dammit, don’t you trust me?” he asked.
She pressed her lips together. “I want to,” she managed, her voice only trembling a little. “But I can’t.”
He dropped his hands to his sides and stared at her. She read confusion and what might have been pain. Because he wouldn’t understand. He would think it was personal. That she didn’t trust him, when in truth, she didn’t trust anyone.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He turned away. “No problem. Let me figure out where we are. I’ll get the guy to meet us with the trailer and we’ll get out of here. You can go home.”
He was dismissing her. Dismissing them. Gone was the teasing, sexy man who had intrigued and delighted her. And while she hadn’t been looking for a happily ever after, she had wanted to keep seeing Angel. To learn more about him. She’d wanted to make love with him and spend time with him. She’d wanted to laugh and talk, because being with him was both challenging and easy.
She wasn’t ready for this to be over.
He pulled out his cell and checked for a signal. After he shook his head, he walked to his kayak and pushed it higher on the shore. He removed the cooler containing their lunch and another small box. Inside was a more complex-looking phone. Probably the kind that worked off a satellite rather than a cell tower, she thought.
He began to dial.
“Stop,” she said. “Just stop.”
He raised his head.
She hugged herself more tightly. The shaking had faded, but the adrenaline lingered. She felt weak and scared but also empowered. She’d survived. Wasn’t that the good news? She’d survived and this wasn’t the first time the odds had been against her.
She raised her chin and drew in a breath. “My dad was a mean drunk. When I was little he went on binges every few months. When he did, he beat the crap out of my mom and me, but mostly her. Sometimes he just bruised her and sometimes he put her in the hospital. We lived in Los Angeles. There are a lot of hospitals, so she always saw a different doctor. She didn’t tell anyone what had really happened and no one else put the pieces together.”
Angel dropped the satellite phone back into the box and watched her. She tried to figure out what he was thinking but couldn’t. She knew there was no point in trying. If he didn’t want her to know what was in his head, there was no way she could guess. Better to simply get it all out while she could.