"What the bloody hell are you doing?"
She opened her eyes. He crouched over her, his expression as furious as it was concerned. Damp, dark hair fell across his forehead. A grimace tightened his jaw. "Are you hurt?"
"My mitten slipped off," she said, mentally tallying her injuries. It was the rock in the shoulder that had really done her in. Jesus, that hurt. She lifted her hand to her face where the branch had cut her.
"Lie still, dammit."
"I feel like I hit a land mine."
"What the devil were you thinking?"
"I wasn't." An involuntary groan escaped her as she shifted her weight. "Am I dead?"
"Don't give me any ideas." He leaned close to her, his hands pressing her down. "Hell, I might just leave your ass here for the coyotes."
"Stop talking about my ass, Talbot. You're going to tick me off again." She tried to move, wincing when her knee protested.
"Hold still."
"God, you're a bully. Even when I'm hurt, you can't be nice to me."
"Can you move your toes?"
She closed her eyes against the pain, wiggled first her right and then her left toes. "Yeah."
"What about your fingers?"
"Check." Raising her hand, she looked at her once-perfect nails and groaned. "I broke three nails on just one hand. I don't even want to look at the other one."
"You're lucky you didn't break your neck," he growled.
"You didn't warn me that rappelling was so painful."
"Any pain in your back?"
"No. Just my shoulder. The right one. Jesus, I hate rocks. I should have dodged the rocks. I guess I just wasn't quick enough, huh, Talbot?"
"You have to be smarter than the rock."
"Kick a girl when she's down why don't you?"
One side of his mouth quirked. Sliding his hands beneath her shoulders, he eased her to a sitting position. "Dizzy?"
"No. My shoulder hurts."
"Lucky you had that sweatshirt on."
"I don't feel very lucky."
"They always say God looks out for idiots and children."
"Stop yelling at me. I've been punished enough." She said the last word through her teeth as the pain in her shoulder clamped down on her like a vise. "Ouch. It hurts."
Without preamble, he lifted the sweatshirt up and over her shoulder. "Lean forward."
Addison obeyed without complaint, wincing only a little when the cold wind whispered over her bare back. Then she felt the warmth of his hand as he probed, and did her best to ignore the tingle of pleasure that followed. "It's getting a little breezy back there, Talbot. What's the prognosis?"
"Nice bra," he commented. "Front closure?"
Despite the pain, she smiled. "Let me know your size and I'll pick one up for you next time I'm at Victoria's Secret."
His laughter echoed through the trees. A rare, pleasant sound that made her stomach feel jittery. "Nothing's broken, but you're going to have one hell of a bruise."
"I'm going to have bruises over ninety percent of my body."
"It's such a shame to mar that lovely back of yours."
His mouth was so close to her ear she could feel the warmth of his breath. Trying to ignore the blood that had climbed into her face, she tugged the sweatshirt down. "I'm really glad I wore my good bra today, Talbot. Had I worn my sports bra you probably would have left me for the coyotes."
"I don't have anything against any form of lingerie, Ace." He rose and extended his hand to her. "But I've always been partial to pink lace."
"I can't see you in pink." Realizing she was still too shaky to rise of her own power, Addison accepted his hand, trying not to wince as he pulled her to her feet.
"That was an incredibly stupid thing to do." He glared down at her with an intensity that made her look away. "I'm going to have to make time for a manicure now. Think we can squeeze one into our schedule between shootouts this week?"
He didn't look amused. He was standing too close again, intimidating her with that nasty scowl and those dark, angry eyes. "I told you to stay in the damn truck. You could have gotten yourself killed."
Addison didn't want to think about death in a place where two people she loved dearly had perished. A powerful shiver went through her. “Think we could waive the lecture?"
He reached out and clamped his hand around her forearm, forcing her around to face him. "You're cut." He raised his hand and touched her cheek. "I've got a first aid kit in the truck.”
"I don't think it's deep," she said, looking anywhere but into his eyes. She knew what resided in those murky depths. And it was much more than she wanted to deal with at the moment.
Giving herself a mental shake, she turned her face away from his hand. As if sensing her need for space, Randall released her and stepped away.
"Did you find the car?" she asked.