Extreme Exposure (7 page)

CHAPTER SIX

E
mily woke with a jolt and her left leg jerked as if hit by an electric shock. Slumped against a tree trunk, it took a couple of seconds to realize where she was and that she’d fallen asleep. Dragging herself up, she shot a nervous glance around.

She was alone. Matt wasn’t back.

Her throat felt dry, her tongue thick. Her head pounded. But she was still alive.

Sucking in a breath, she tried to decide how worried she should be. A couple of hours had passed, judging from the sun. It was just a pink smudge now, low in the sky, casting long and lonely shadows through the trees. There was an eerie stillness, as if everything had been shut down in preparation for night. Even the insects had abandoned her.

Shivering, she rubbed her arms, sorry now that she’d ditched the sweater a couple of hours earlier, when it had been so hot. She stretched her neck. Cold was the least of her worries. What if Matt was in trouble? What if he had been caught by those guys?

Running through the scenarios, her stomach tightened. He had gone off alone, because he had known it would be dangerous. And he had been caught. She slammed her fist on the ground, felt sharp bits of gravel bite into the skin. She should have gone with him. Why hadn’t she? Had he been killed while she slept?

There was another possibility. He had decided not to come back. She nodded, said a silent prayer. That had to be it, because everything she knew about him indicated he wouldn’t have easily been caught. A dead giveaway was the knapsack. He’d taken it. He wouldn’t have done that if he were coming back.

Of course, there was the chance his reconnaissance mission had taken longer than expected. But that didn’t make sense. The cove was close, just through the trees a bit. The smell of salt was in the air. Hadn’t he said he’d be back in an hour? She racked her brain, couldn’t remember.

Holding on to the tree trunk, she struggled to her feet, tried to think what to do. Water was a priority, which meant she had to find a cabin. A sound registered in her brain, like the scuffle of a shoe on rock. Her hands flew up to her face to cover her mouth as her heart leaped in her chest.

Stepping behind the tree, she reached down, grabbed the knife, and struggled with trembling hands to pry it open. What had he said? Don’t worry about aiming, just use it. Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from the tree, ready to fight.

The man who walked toward her barely made any noise. He was tall, dark and, as he got closer, she could see his face bore traces of amusement.

Rambo.

Weak-kneed with relief, she stumbled back.

Gesturing to the knife, he said, “Can you put that down? You look like you want to use it on me.”

She threw the knife away and fell against the tree. It took a minute to find her voice. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He stepped toward her and reached out a hand, instantly contrite.

Jerking back, she held a palm up in warning for him not to come closer.

He handed her a bottle filled with water. “Drink as much as you want. I already had some and there’s more in the knapsack.”

Opening the bottle, she tipped it back and let the warm water slide down her parched throat. So that’s why he’d taken the knapsack. “Where did you get it?”

“At a cabin. From an outdoor tap.”

After another long drink, she said, “Is the cabin empty? Can we go there?” She wanted to sleep, eat if they could find anything, so she could get her strength back.

“I found something better.”

“What?”

“A canoe. We should wait until dark before we cross to Egerton.”

A rest sounded good, but getting to Egerton was better. But there was a false edge to his voice, barely perceptible, and something in the way he avoided her eyes made the hairs on her neck rise. She studied his face, knowing there was more. It certainly wasn’t regret that he’d soon see the last of her.

She said, “What aren’t you telling me?” He looked at her, surprised. “Tell me,” she demanded.

“I nicked the canoe from a cottage about a mile up the shore. I can’t be sure, but the owners may have seen me. They were partying on the deck. They could call the police.”

“Do you think the police will come looking?”

He shook his head. “Probably not, but we can’t be sure.” He took a swig of water. “Maybe they’ll just leave it until morning.”

“We’ll be long gone by that time. Did you see any boats? Any sign of those guys?”

“No. Let’s keep our fingers crossed it will be all right.”

Emily eyed him warily, didn’t think he was lying. The beginnings of hope were like a little flutter in her belly. Maybe they would get to Egerton after all. Once separated, he would no longer be a target.

And he would be out of her life.

The realization didn’t hit her like she’d expected. That flutter vanished, was quickly replaced by a dull ache that confused the hell out of her. That she was developing feelings for this guy, this macho man, had to be impossible. “Fingers crossed,” she said, unsmiling.

Glancing up, she caught those heartbreaker eyes on her. Worse, that knowing look was back.

A flood of heat rushed to her face. How could he possibly know what she was feeling? She didn’t even know how to make sense of her rampaging emotions. Taking another gulp of water, she turned away. The light was fading fast, threatening to carry with it that sense of control so necessary to her survival.

*  *  *

At the cove, Matt scouted out a vantage point in the trees about twenty feet above the rocky shoreline as they waited for dark. They had ducked their heads in the water to wash off some dirt, and then Emily had found a couple of square feet of soft ground. She lay on her side with her head on one arm, the other arm pulled up close beside it. With her mouth slightly open, it looked like she was sleeping. He retrieved a thin nylon rain jacket out of the pack and covered her upper body, tucked it in around her neck. Somewhere along the line she must have ditched the sweater.

A sudden urge to lie down beside her and gather her in his arms swept through him like fire. He wanted to kiss her, hold her. Yes, even rip off that flimsy T-shirt.

His head buzzing, Matt forced his eyes away from her. How did this woman do this to him? That she was irritating as hell and seemed barely able to tolerate him didn’t seem to matter.

He strode to the shoreline, sat down on a rock. He had a good view across the choppy water of the cove to Egerton. As it got darker, streetlights came on along a road that ran parallel to the touristy area of the downtown waterfront.

He dozed on and off for an hour, waited a while more until it was fully dark and woke Emily. They lifted the canoe off the ground above the shoreline and slipped it into the water. As he held it steady, she climbed in and crawled to the front. He threw the knapsack in the middle, climbed in, and pushed off the rocky shore with a paddle.

Emily gestured to a big cottage about a mile up the shore. Bright outside lights reflected green from the trees onto the black surface of the water. “Is that the cottage?”

He nodded. “I don’t see anybody now. Maybe they took the party inside.”

Emily glanced over her shoulder. “You really think we can do this in a couple of hours?”

“There’s a good chance,” he said in what he hoped was a confident tone. “The water looks pretty calm. It must be slack tide.” The better question was whether they could cross without being seen. The light from the moon, not full but well over half, lit the glassy surface of the water like a giant floodlight. He shuddered, picturing a big boat speeding across the cove toward them.

The canoe jerked forward as they plunged their paddles into the water and then as they drew them back with long, swift strokes.

He said, “We have to be careful not to tip. The last thing we want to do is fall in. It’s pretty cold, even at this time of year.” Remembering her jump into the ocean that morning, he added, “Sorry, you know that all too well.”

“Do I ever.”

He paddled on toward the lights, as if he were in a race, not letting himself slack off. Every six or seven strokes, he switched sides to keep the canoe straight, compensating for Emily. An hour later, by the time they were halfway across, his arms were sore. Not long after that, sharps needles of pain started shooting down from his shoulders to his wrists, even into his fingertips.

Needing a break, he pulled the paddle out of the water. “How are you doing?”

She stopped paddling, looked over her shoulder. Her face was pale in the moonlight. “I’m pretty sure I’m never getting in a canoe again in my life. The water feels thick as sludge.”

He reached down, cupped some cold water in his hand, and splashed his face, tasting salt. “What will you do when we get to Egerton?”

“Find a place to sleep for the night.” She gave a little smile. “You?”

“I’ll figure out how I can go back and get my car.”

Her mouth flew open. “I forgot about your car. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it somehow. Do you know anyone in Egerton?”

“No. But I’ll be okay.” She turned to the front again, put her paddle back in the water to stop further questioning.

He swallowed hard. It took great effort to not challenge that statement. She didn’t have a cent on her and would rather die than ask him for money or help. It drove him crazy, although sometimes he saw glimpses of something else there, a vulnerability that showed the real person underneath. At least he thought he did. He had no luck reading this woman.

Emily let out a loud curse.

Tensing, he looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“I think we have a welcoming party.”

Squinting through the darkness, it took a few seconds to make out the police cruiser parked at the end of the wharf. Cursing, he slapped the water.
Would anything ever go their way?

*  *  *

Matt pulled the paddle out of the water, tried to think. There was one cop in front of the cruiser, leaning against the hood. It was too far to see if there was another one in the car, not that it would make that much difference. This could go south very quickly.

Emily turned panicked eyes on him. “We have to go back.”

“We can’t. They could get a boat and chase us down.”

“You can’t turn me in.” Her pleading eyes met his.

The cops were likely after the canoe, but he couldn’t be sure. What if she was right and it was the police who were trying to kill her? Even if it was just a couple of rogue cops, it made any dealings with the police risky.

He said, “I won’t turn you in.” It felt all wrong, but he had no idea any more. He was navigating with a broken compass.

“Thanks.” She let out a huge breath. “What are we going to do?”

“We have to get to shore, fast.” But where? Ahead, bright lights lit up the water in front of the downtown. They wouldn’t be able to slip ashore unseen.

Emily pointed about a mile down the shore to an area past the downtown core with fewer lights. “How about down there? What’s that big building?”

“It’s a hotel, sort of a resort. I’ve been there a few times. I seem to remember a sandy beach. But we’ll have to be quick if we want to get there before the cops figure out where we’re going.”

Veering left, he swept his paddle through the water with a long stroke. A glance back caught the cop car driving off the wharf.

A few minutes later, her voice quaking, she said, “How did they find us?”

“Try not to worry. It might just be the canoe.”

“They wouldn’t go through this much trouble for a canoe.” Her paddle chopped at the water with short, quick strokes.

“On a slow night they might.” Or if the canoe belonged to somebody who could put up a stink, somebody like Egerton’s mayor, who had a cottage in that area on the other side of the cove.

Soon, there were fewer lights. Arm muscles screaming, he concentrated his strokes on the left side to steer the canoe closer to shore. A few minutes later, the main building of the resort rose before them and they felt the bottom of the canoe hit sand. Jumping out, he waded through the water, helped Emily out, and pulled the canoe up on the beach. There was no time to hide it.

Crouching down, he peered through the tall grass near the water’s edge across two hundred feet of manicured lawn to the hotel. The voices of people sitting around tables on a ground-floor patio drifted down to the cove. It was likely a bar or restaurant with some seating outside, but he couldn’t recall. Other than that, there was nobody. Darkness shrouded the grounds, although bright lights lit the outside of the building.

He turned to Emily. “I’m going to get a car. Want to hitch a ride?” She mulled over the offer, but the doubt in her eyes quickly vanished. They crawled backed down to the beach, where they sprinted, heads down, about fifty feet up the sand to where the lawn ended and a wooded area that skirted the property began. It took a couple of minutes to run up the edge of the woods and sprint across a narrow strip of open lawn to the side of the hotel.

Panting, they crouched behind shrubs lining the side of the hotel foundation. There were no security guards that he could see.

She said, “How are we going to get a car?”

He avoided her look. “How do you think?”

“That’s not funny.”

“No choice. We have to get out of here quickly, before the cops come.”

“If you steal a car, we’ll get caught for sure.” Frowning, she grabbed his arm. “Wait, how do you know how to steal a car?”

“I’ve got a perfectly good explanation. I’ll tell you later. Right now, we have to get out of here.”

She jumped up and down on the balls of her feet. “Shit.”

He touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t keep it. Just like the canoe.”

Her eyes examined his face. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. They’ll throw you in jail if they catch you.”

His heart gave a kick. It wasn’t much, a concern about getting him into trouble with the law more than anything. But it was something, something the softness in those green eyes couldn’t hide.

Standing so close, he squeezed his eyes shut, fought an urge to touch her. When he opened them a second later, those big eyes, black with a halo of dark green, stared at him. The intensity was like oxygen on a fire smoldering deep inside him. His heart pounded in his chest. What if this was his last chance? If he didn’t touch her now, she could slip away and he might never taste those lips.