Proposition: Marriage. Eileen Wilks

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      Three

      There was nothing lover-like about the way he grabbed her hand this time. He dragged her back up the side of the gully with him, but he was confusingly arbitrary about how he moved, zigzagging all over the place. When he snatched her back from a bare patch of ground, she realized he was staying on the grassy patches so they wouldn’t leave tracks.

      That did nothing to quiet the frantic alarm signals her heart was pounding out.

      They reached a thicket of tall grasses and weeds shadowed by the trees behind them. The voices were nearer—much nearer. He tugged her down with him, so that they lay flat on their stomachs. She felt giddy, her breath coming fast and shallow. He scooted forward, so she did, too, and she saw why he’d chosen this spot Here, the shadows of the trees fell over them, dense and concealing. They could peer through the cover offered by the weeds, but no one below would be able to see them—not as long as they were still.

      Jane knew she could hold still. She’d proved that much in the lake. This should be easier. She had dry ground beneath her, and his warm body beside her. Unfortunately, his body was every bit as distracting as the monster bug had been—but in a different way.

      She stared down at the little trickle of a stream, her muscles tight with fear and the need for stillness. Two men came into view. They wore uniforms, familiar uniforms that made Jane go limp with relief. These were federales, members of the semimilitary national police. The cops, she thought, giddy with regained safety. The good guys. She started to turn to John, to tell him they were safe, but her head never finished the motion.

      His hand clamped over her mouth. Again. She jolted, then glared at him out of the corner of her eye.

      He brought his mouth next to her ear, as he had before. “Shh. Look before you leap, Jane. An isolated squad of soldiers may not be a safe escort for a woman alone,” he breathed. Slowly he removed his hand from her mouth.

      Below them, three more of the national police moved into view. She frowned, confused, and watched. The men in the little gully weren’t a reassuring sight. They were dirty and unshaven and they slouched along, weapons at the ready, joking with each other or snarling complaints. They didn’t act very military. One of them said something that made her think they were looking for something.

      Or someone.

      No one would have mounted a search for her—not this quickly. She glanced at the man beside her. They lay so close together on the ground that she could smell him. The faint, welcoming note of human warmth was almost lost in the earthy odor of the humus covering the forest floor beneath them. Silently she mouthed, “Who are they looking for?”

      His gaze met hers. His lips smiled, but those vastly blue eyes of his were cold. He brought his mouth close again m that disconcerting simulation of a lover’s approach, so that his voice was a puff of barely heard words on her skin. “Me. So if you’re tired of my company, sweet Jane, all you have to do is attract their attention.”

      The authorities were after him? She jerked—not much; just one quick, involuntary motion away from a man who might be the criminal she didn’t believe him to be.

      A pebble rolled down the hill.

      She froze in horror.

      At first she thought it would be all right. Then one of the men said something, pointing in their direction. A couple of them stopped СКАЧАТЬ