Wicked Sexy(12)

somewhere close to take her. Maybe they could wait out the storm where they were—if he pulled off-road more, though she’d still be uncomfortable and that wasn’t ideal. He needed to get her out of this, where she could get out of those clothes. Warm her up some.

Dani watched him calmly. She looked like a drowned rat. A really, really cute drowned rat. He debated

pulling her closer and tucking her inside his jacket, but settled instead for pulling it off and draping it around her shoulders.

Come on, soldier.

A second car floated by them and she sucked in a breath.

“You know that one?” he asked.

She nodded, her damp hair brushing against his jaw. “From up at the cabins.”

“Owner still there?” If there were passengers trapped in the upside-down wreck...he’d do what he could

to help them.

“No,” she answered. “They went into town earlier.”

The cabins it was, he decided. He couldn’t see them from his current spot, which meant he’d be aiming

blind and visibility was dropping fast. The sun would be setting somewhere above the storm clouds soon.

Dani shivered and those protective instincts of his kicked in again.

“What do we do? How much longer can this storm last?” Her hand lunged for his forearm as a large tree

branch slammed into the side of the Jeep.

“I have you,” he reassured her. “And I’m not letting go.”

But that didn’t answer her question.

Long enough to do a lifetime’s worth of damage.

The last weather report he’d heard had the eye of the storm still eight hours out. It was going to get a lot worse before it got better. Coming to a decision, he said, “I’ll drive us up to the cabins.”

She looked out the window again, as if she was hoping things had improved. “That’s a lot of water.”

“The Jeep can handle it.” Just. “How far were you from the cabins when you pulled over?”

She thought for a moment. “I’d been driving maybe ten minutes. No more than a mile.” Dani was good

with details and he could hear her gaining confidence as she crunched the numbers. Numbers were familiar territory for her—as driving through floodwaters was for him. He could get them one mile. Two would be a problem, but he’d figure it out if her estimate was off.

“You’re not okay,” she observed. Her eyes dropped to his thigh and he fought the urge to cover up the

injury. It was too late for misdirection. She knew.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Uh-huh.” The tone of her voice said she’d heard that line before from some other man in her life—and

recognized the lie for what it was.

“So I’ve got a bad leg.” He eyed her, daring her to suggest he take it easy or back down. Because that

wasn’t happening. Number one on his to-do list was getting her to safety.

“Okay.” Her voice was cool. No emotion. “So we go now, or what?”

He flexed his leg again and the pain returned twofold. “You know how to drive a stick?”

“You want me to drive?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, but the truth was the truth.

She nodded—but she didn’t budge from her seat. “I’ve never driven in this kind of weather.”

He didn’t expect that she had. “I’ll talk you through things,” he said patiently. “Tell you what to do, okay?”

Giving up control wasn’t what he wanted to do, but his knee wouldn’t take the added strain of doing

the shifting. He needed her help.

Which didn’t mean he had to like it or even acknowledge it, he concluded. They’d switch seats and he’d

give her directions.

He needed to convince her that she could do this, and fast. The rain was picking up again; they didn’t

have time to waste. He studied her expression. She didn’t look too sure about taking over. She was rolling that sweet lower lip of hers beneath her teeth and worrying the skin.

“You like taking orders, Dani?” He deliberately made the question a sensual one.

“Move,” she snapped. Yeah. His comment had gotten to her. And now there was a spark of curiosity in

her eyes.

Trading places in the confined space was awkward. After a couple of false starts that had them bumping

arms and legs, he put his hands around her waist and lifted. His fingers registered the soft curves—she felt so good—and then he held her over him, sliding out of the way to claim the passenger seat.

He shouldn’t find Dani’s reserve so damn sexy. But he did, and her piercing gaze said she’d done some

noticing of her own. She made him feel eager, like she was a Christmas present he couldn’t wait to unwrap and find out what was inside. Because she had layers. Lots and lots of layers. There was more to his stable, put-together actuary than met the eye and he wanted to get to know her a lot better. And it sure looked like she was stuck with him now, didn’t it?





THAT BIG, HARD-MUSCLED body slipped past her and, as inappropriate as the moment was, she

enjoyed the way it felt. His nearness made her very aware of his size and strength. Nervous excitement

pounded through her veins. She wasn’t going to die. Simply put, Daeg Ross wouldn’t let it happen.

This wasn’t personal. Daeg did the right thing. That was his motto, wasn’t it? So Others May Live. He

hadn’t come here to rescue her, per se, he’d come here to rescue whoever, she reminded herself.

Touching him suddenly seemed imperative. In a shifting sea that was a floating mess, he was all that was solid and reassuring, insisting on getting them out and to safety. She wasn’t alone anymore, and until now she hadn’t realized just how much being alone out here in the storm had bothered her.

Walking away from him on the beach had been a challenge. She hadn’t looked back, afraid just the

temptation of him would draw her back. Now they were on their own in the middle of a killer storm. Way

to go on keeping her distance.

To make it worse, that last kiss of theirs was burned in her memory. His lips had been gentle, yet firm, and, oh, how his mouth had moved over hers... She shook her head. This was the wrong time for these

kinds of feelings, but there they were. Daeg Ross was looking more and more like her reward, despite her no-more-men vow.

Daeg was reaching behind his seat, rifling through a duffel bag. He produced a thin, medium-size

packet. The bag crinkled as he tore open the plastic. Seconds later, he was fixing a Mylar blanket around her before fastening her seat belt. She welcomed the immediate warmth from the material. She hadn’t

realized she’d been shivering. But he had.

“That’s the best I can do for now,” he said gruffly.

“Thank you.” Even with the Mylar, she was chilled. That came with the territory when you were soaked

through. The blanket was good, but part of her wanted to reach out and hold him to her.

He gave her an inscrutable look. “Sure. No problem.”

“Right,” she said uncomfortably and started the vehicle.

“Put her in low gear and angle her in.” He pointed to a spot twenty feet in front of them. “Right there.”

She did what he’d told her to, moving out slowly. Rain pounded on the roof and washed down the

windshield. The wipers were working overtime to clear the slice of glass she needed to see through, but it was still difficult to see where she was headed.

She didn’t take her eyes off the water in front of them. He didn’t have to tell her that this was different from anything she’d done before. Daeg maintained a watchful gaze ahead. If the water level reached the

engine, they would be wading like her sedan.

“Keep it slow and steady,” he instructed. “Not too fast.”

The first hundred yards were straightforward. The submerged ground offered plenty of traction, despite

the standing water. Before long, though, she was fighting to control the steering wheel. What had been a

pleasant seaside drive the other six days of the week was now a slippery, treacherous trip straight into the ocean.

“Shift to second,” he said calmly when the Jeep shimmied.

She shifted, wondering how many times he’d done this.

“I’m glad you’re here.” That sounded lame, but she had no practice in what to say to someone who was

rescuing her from a watery grave. That was fine with her, because she had no intention of repeating this day. Ever.

“Did you think we’d just leave you?” He didn’t take his eyes off the road.

The Jeep crawled through the water, the headlights carving out a path in the growing darkness. Part of

her liked sitting here in this car with Daeg and nothing but the sound of the motor and the rain for

company.

That was the weird part.

Because she was just one more mission to him, one more time he did what he’d been trained to do.

“You’re not on active duty now,” she pointed out. “You’re not 9-1-1 for the island.”

He gave her a look she couldn’t decipher. “You need me, I come.” There was no mistaking the

forcefulness in his voice. Or the rough concern when he spoke. “That’s how this works. You’re never out here alone.”

That brought her up short. He’d always do the right thing—what he believed was the right thing—and

there was every possibility she’d get run over when he did. So getting involved with him wasn’t her