“Go,” he said when he reached her. “Run until they fire again. Then get flat on the ground.”
She didn’t ask questions. She kept moving, deeper into the trees. Just as he’d predicted, gunshots erupted. Bullets ripped through the forest and struck the branches, dangerously close. With a yelp of panic, she hit the dirt. She covered her head with her arms while Ian returned fire. She could hear the loud pop of his handgun. Although it was no match to their rifles, maybe it would deter the officers from advancing down the hillside.
He caught up with her a moment later. “Come on,” he said, lifting her to her feet. “That won’t hold them off for long.”
She ran as fast as she could through the thick vegetation. Thorns snagged her arms and switches whipped across her face. It continued to rain, and that was probably what saved them. Visibility was limited in the deluge. They both took a number of spills. She was soaked to the skin, breathing hard, when he slowed down and holstered his weapon.
“Are they gone?” she asked.
“I don’t know. We have to keep moving.”
She nodded, trudging forward. They walked for several miles, until daylight faded. The temperature dropped and the storm raged on. She used the tarp to cover her shoulders and head, but it didn’t do much good. She was already wet.
Darkness closed in and she began to pray for shelter. They stumbled upon a fence made from hand-hewn wooden posts, and followed it into the night. Soon they came to a clearing with a small barn. Though uninhabited, the barn wasn’t lacking basic amenities. There was a battery-operated lantern hanging on a hook inside. A wool blanket lay folded on a haystack. Perhaps the space was used seasonally, or only as a resting place for cattlemen.
Ian latched the barn door and turned on the lamp. She wrapped her arms around her body, shivering from the cold.
“We have to get out of these wet clothes,” he said.
She agreed readily, without a hint of unease. The reservations she’d had about undressing in front of him earlier were gone. They were alive and unharmed. Last night’s close call faded into the background. She was in a hurry to shed layers and get warm. While he took off his shirt, she spread the tarp over a thin mattress of hay. Then she removed her boots, socks, and pants. She was naked underneath her T-shirt, so she covered herself with the wool blanket before she stripped down to nothing.
He kept his pants on. She watched him hang their clothes to dry on empty gear hooks. Then he sat down on the haystack, putting the lantern on the ground next to him. It illuminated the space. There were no windows, and the light wouldn’t be visible in the storm anyway.
She could tell he was uncomfortable. His skin was damp and covered in gooseflesh. He swiped a hand down his face, wicking away the moisture.
“Do you think they’ll find us?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t think they followed us. They were probably looking for Sarai. Chasing after me was too much of a hassle in the rain.”
She figured it was his quick thinking that prevented them from being caught. He’d played it perfectly. Letting her go first had protected her from harm, and firing a warning shot had given them just enough time to escape. “You are very good at being a police officer.”
“I’m not a police officer. I was a border patrol agent, and a DEA agent.”
“What are you now?”
“Nothing, really.”
“You’re not nothing.”
“I’m a temporary attaché.”
“Attaché,” she said, testing the word. It sounded pretty sexy. He looked sexy, bare-chested, wearing a shoulder holster. Sexy and dangerous and taut with tension.
His eyes lingered on her mouth for a moment. “You should get some sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I have to keep watch.”
She suspected that he was reluctant to lay down with her for other reasons. She was nude, and he wasn’t supposed to touch her. He’d been able to resist temptation underneath the tree on the hilltop. Here, in this barn, they were all alone.
“I’m cold,” she said truthfully. “Will you put your arm around me?”
After a short hesitation, he lay down and stretched out beside her. He wrapped his arm around her the same way he’d done before. His gun holster was on the opposite side. She snuggled closer, pressing her nose to his chest.
“Your skin is like ice,” she said.
“I’m fine.”
Ignoring his curt response, she opened the blanket to share its warmth. He held himself motionless as she settled against him. When her breasts grazed his ribcage, a muscle in his jaw flexed, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t make a sound. He almost seemed afraid to inhale, as if her scent might be his undoing. She didn’t know if she wanted to be his undoing or not. He confused and exhilarated her. In San Diego, he’d seemed so lost. The undercover job had consumed him. She hadn’t understood how much it meant to him to work in law enforcement before. She’d only seen the downside.
Now everything was different. She was different. Her feelings changed by the day, by the hour. They were in such a volatile situation, jumping from place to place, from train to train. Her mind was in turmoil and her hormones had gone wild, but it was her heart that was the most affected. She loved him. She needed him. She wanted him, desperately.
A few hours ago, she’d been uneasy with his closeness. Now she longed for him to get closer. She couldn’t really explain why she felt shy one moment and bold the next. She only knew that this was her last chance to be with him. Her skin prickled with awareness and her body trembled for his touch. She was ready to give herself to him completely.
He couldn’t sacrifice his future for a short affair with her, of course. That was okay. She’d gone twenty-two years without consensual sex; she could handle one more night. It wasn’t worth jeopardizing his career. If they couldn’t be together, they couldn’t be together. Their main priority was survival, not pleasure.
Although she tried not to get emotional about it, the tears came, unbidden. They rolled down her cheek, onto his chest.