“Is it still standing?”
“Barely. I’ve never seen it, but a couple of the other corrections officers hiked up there last summer while on a rock-climbing excursion.”
Zack tossed her a furtive glance. She was only a few feet away, but he could barely make out her silhouette in the blinding snow. Dangerous conditions for even the most seasoned outdoorsman. It would take only an instant for them to become separated. Ideally he would tie a rope to her. Since he was fresh out of rope, he opted for the next best thing.
“Give me your hand!” he shouted, walking toward her.
Even with the poor visibility he saw the astonishment on her face. “What?”
“So we don’t get separated.” Without waiting for her to respond, he reached for her.
She initially resisted, then her hand relaxed within his. Her skin was like ice. Lord in heaven, she was nearly frostbitten.
Wishing he could do something to keep her warm, he tugged her along at a faster pace. “Let’s make some time,” he said, praying he could find the lodge before it was too late.
DAWN BROKE AS DARK AND gray as a partial solar eclipse, but the light did little to improve visibility. The snow was still coming down hard, and visibility had dwindled to less than five feet. If it hadn’t been for the shift in the pitch of the whistling wind, Zack would have walked right past the Capello Hills Lodge without even seeing it. But from twenty yards away, he discerned the change as the wind whipped around the portico. Finally they’d found the shelter they so desperately needed.
“Jackpot,” Zack said.
Emily had been lagging behind for the last hour. Zack hoped her slow pace was due to the punishing conditions and not the bullet wound. He wasn’t particularly fond of corrections officers at the moment, but he didn’t want her hurt. One woman’s death on his conscience was about all he could handle….
Not allowing himself to think of the past, he took her to the open area beneath the portico where the building blocked most of the wind. Capello Hills Lodge had obviously once been magnificent, but no more. The glass in the front windows was long gone, replaced with plywood that had weathered badly. The once-rustic siding was warped and rotted. Some joker had nailed a No Trespassing sign to the front door.
Not bloody likely, Zack thought and tore the sign from its nails and tossed it into the snow. He tried the door but it didn’t budge. He couldn’t tell if it was locked or warped, but he wasn’t going to let either of those things keep him out.
“Stand back,” he said.
Emily moved away. “We could try the ba—”
Zack landed a single solid kick to the door. It swung open. Dust motes exploded when it banged against the wall. Wishing for his sidearm, he stepped inside and motioned for Emily to follow.
He closed the door behind them, then stood quietly and listened, hoping they were alone. He could still hear the storm raging outside, but the sudden silence of being out of the wind was profound enough to make his ears ring. He turned to Emily to tell her to stay put while he took a look around, but the sight of her stopped him cold. Her hair was wet and she was shaking furiously. Her face was ghastly pale. She probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer out in the cold.
“You’re bloody hypothermic,” he said, his voice coming more roughly than he’d intended.
“I’m j-just c-cold.”
He took her arm to guide her to the massive hearth. She surprised him by shaking off his touch and glaring at him. He found himself staring into eyes the color of aged whiskey. Her mouth was full and sensuously shaped, like a pale ruby set into ivory. The combination of those two things socked him in the gut like a fist, and he found himself wanting to do a hell of a lot more than just touch her….
“In case you haven’t noticed,” she said, “I’m cold and wet and very ticked off. I’ve been shot at and lied to by people I once trusted. I’ve been driven off a cliff. Dragged through a snowstorm by an escaped convict. And I have a bullet wound in my arm.” Eyes flashing, she stepped closer to him and jammed her finger in his chest with enough force to push him back a step. “I want to know what the hell is going on. And I want to know right now.”
Zack stared at her for an interminable moment. A measure of relief went through him when he saw that some of the color had returned to her cheeks. He wondered how long that would last once he told her what her pals back at Lockdown, Inc. were up to.
She wasn’t going to like it, but she deserved the truth. Thanks to him, Marcus Underwood and his army of goons were trying to kill her, too. Now it was Zack’s responsibility to keep her safe.
The thought twisted his gut, made him feel a little sick. The last time he’d tried to keep a woman safe, she’d ended up dead. Would he fail Emily, too?