path. Daeg forced himself through the water; failure was not an option.
“No, wait,” she protested. “Maybe there’s another way.”
They were out of time, whether Dani realized it or not. Instincts honed by tours of duty with navy
search and rescue screamed for action. Whatever it took to get that survivor out of danger and up to safety, he’d do. He wouldn’t abandon that training today of all days.
Daeg’s military training had been brutal, every move repeated until it became instinctive. Because
sometimes, if you had to stop and think through your next steps, you ran out of time and risked not just your safety, but everyone else’s.
“I’ve got the way,” he spat, pushing himself forward. The muscles of his thighs screamed in protest.
“You’re looking at it.”
His next scan of the rising wave showed it was closing in fast. He eyeballed the remaining distance to
the Jeep, but covering those twenty yards in three seconds was going to be impossible.
“Do not,” he said fiercely, planting his feet and turning them sideways, “let go. No matter what. Take a deep breath and hold it. Less than thirty seconds, okay?”
He wasn’t leaving anyone behind ever again. Focus.
He covered her hand with his, sealing her fingers to his jacket when she would have relaxed her hold.
The wave would hit him first. Hopefully, he’d take the brunt of whatever was in it. “Don’t you dare let go.”
“No worries, soldier.” Her voice jolted him back to the present, and then the water struck.
COLD, EVEN THOUGH it was June. That was her first thought. The water pulled at her, rushing over
her face, distorting her senses. She had just enough time to process the shock of fear before the water moved on and then surged back. Count. Five seconds down, twenty-five to go. At fifteen, though, she had to inhale, and the water burned down her nose and throat, her body coughing and gagging instinctively.
This was what it would be like to drown.
Hold on. He dragged her above the water and she sucked in air.
Behind them, her car jolted, and the rain was pelting down, beating a loud staccato rhythm on the brown, frothy churn.
Her car floated away effortlessly as a new wave smashed into the vehicle. It sent the car into dizzying circles, like a child’s toy, before the water pushed it into a road sign, sending it out to sea. She didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if she’d been inside the vehicle.
She tightened her grip on Daeg’s shoulders.
Something struck them. She didn’t see what it was, but the impact drove him backward. She could hear
his grunt of pain and another. He was off-balance, so she tried to slide off his back and lighten his load.
“Stay,” he ordered.
“I’m a liability.” She tugged hard, but he wouldn’t let go of her wrists. He was so strong. Capable.
Those were good things, she repeated to herself as the water buffeted them. If she had to be out here, she was glad he was here with her.
Then the wave was gone as fast as it had come. Daeg released her, and as she stood there, waist deep in water with rain lashing her face, her eyes locked on their salvation some twenty yards away. The Jeep had never looked so good. She’d take any sanctuary, however temporary, right now.
“You’ve got to listen to me,” he snapped.
He was angry, and that was fine with her. His tone stoked her own ire, and the anger was a welcome
change from the fear.
“I know how to take care of myself.” His look said that she wasn’t fooling him. Under other
circumstances, she’d have taken umbrage at that arrogant response but, unfortunately, he was right.
“Great,” she muttered and started slogging toward the Jeep.
“Hey,” he said, snagging her arm and pulling her to a halt. “You remember what the motto of the navy
rescue swimmers is?”
She narrowed her eyes. Right now, she just wanted out of the wet. Dry and safe sounded really good.
“I’m sure you’re going to remind me.”
“So Others May Live. Now, you do exactly what I tell you and you’ll be safe. Right now, we’re going over to the Jeep and then we’ll assess.”
“Aye, aye.”
She didn’t need his alpha-male attitude. If this wasn’t so life-and-death, she’d have told him so.
He took a step and winced. As he lurched to his left, a hissing breath came from between his teeth.
That wasn’t a good sign. “You okay?”
Daeg was prickly, all intent on rescuing her, but she had to ask. Because the sudden lines on either side of his mouth indicated pain.
“I’ve been worse,” he replied.
“But—” How much worse was worse? She knew men. Impale them with a caber and the injury was just
a pesky splinter. Daeg was acting all “move along” and “there’s nothing to see here,” but she wasn’t
convinced.
“I’m fine,” he repeated, and she shelved the conversation in favor of picking up the pace. Apparently,
he got to take care of her, but not vice versa. Arguing about that pigheaded decision would be better done somewhere dry. And safe.
She snuck a peek at his emotionless face—he seemed rather unshakeable, despite their recent run-in
with that large something, and the worst of all storms unloading on their heads. Too bad she couldn’t act as unconcerned.
He shook his head. “You can’t force the door since the water’s too high. You’d only flood the Jeep.
We’ve got better odds—”
“Odds of what?” Odds, she understood. Odds made sense. Either something was likely to happen—or it
was not.
“Getting back in one piece?” He didn’t sound like he was joking. “Okay, then,” he said. “Here’s what’s
going to happen. We’ll get you into the Jeep via the window. Then, I’ll get in. Easy. Window’s rolled down, waiting for us, and then we make tracks nice and slow.”
“The road’s full of water.”
“The side of the road, then.”
“Okay.” Her fingers gripped his arm again. “We can’t stay here. I know that.”
“Not unless you really got a yen for an outdoor campout on top of a Jeep,” he teased. He pointed to his shoulders. “Grab on to me and I’ll hoist you up.”
“Got it.”
She was completely on board with that plan. The sooner they got out of here, the better. He gestured
impatiently, and she obediently slid her arms around his neck so that she was plastered up against him. And
—wow. Maybe it had been too long since she’d had sex because that simple contact of her skin on his was incredible. His shoulders were as strong and capable as the rest of him, and the front of him was pretty darn enjoyable, as well.
His dark eyes focused on her as if this was all in a day’s work. Which it probably was for him, she
noted. She was the only one feeling the tension here.
“On three. One. Two.” His hands slid beneath the backs of her thighs and she was pretty sure she
gasped. “Three.”
He lifted and her feet left the ground. She was briefly cradled against him, and then he deftly slid her through the window, planting her butt on the passenger-side seat with brisk efficiency.
He limped around the Jeep, positioned his hands securely on the frame and dragged himself up onto the
edge of the open window. Yes, he was superbly male and no, he was not okay. Despite the rain and the
gloomy, late-afternoon light, she had no problem making out the six-inch tear in his camo pants. Worse, the skin beneath was clearly torn up and bleeding.
Daeg was definitely hurt.
BREATHE IN. BREATHE out. Whatever had struck his leg had only complicated an already
complicated situation. He focused himself and did his best to work through the pain. Yeah. He had maybe two good minutes before the damaged leg locked up and he was of no use to anyone. He should have
moved faster. Led with his good leg.
Curling his hands around the driver’s seat, he pulled himself through the open window. Even that last
movement was enough to send fire shooting through his knee.
His thigh.
And a half dozen assorted muscles.
Maybe the military doc had been right about taking it easy. Man, he hated how his body refused to work
right. The first accident had wiped out years of training in seconds, and he got the nasty feeling that today’s rescue had undone all the progress he’d made in the past few weeks. Being weak was unacceptable.
Female hands on his back guided him down, controlling his fall into the seat some. White-hot agony
tore through his thigh as he tried to settle himself. He’d feel better in a minute. All he had to do was breathe through this.
And not pass out.
He reached to turn the key in the ignition and realized he had another problem. The Jeep had a standard shift. Putting the vehicle into gear and then shifting was going to hurt like crazy. If he could do it at all. A flashback from that last rescue job gone bad jarred him. The relentless water. The long ladder down but no swimmer ascending. Lars’s body vanishing beneath a wave. No. He needed to do this, and do it right. He flexed his leg tentatively and, yeah, that definitely hurt.
He’d live, though.
Dani shifted and he reminded himself she wasn’t used to this kind of situation—she was cold and wet.
And scared. She simply didn’t have the physical strength to make it through that water, so he needed to find