Stranded With The Navy Seal. Susan Cliff

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СКАЧАТЬ chapped lips and sunburned cheeks. Heavy beard stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked a little rough around the edges, but ruggedly handsome. This environment suited him. It didn’t suit her. She felt sweaty and dirty. Her hair was all over the place. There were oily stains on her dress from the coconut milk. Rugged wasn’t a word used to describe women, so she tried to think of a similar term. Natural, maybe. She was at peak natural right now.

      When she was finished with the aloe vera, he rewrapped her feet with new leaves. “We’ll see if we can make it to that beach before nightfall. Then I’ll start a fire. We’ll have a cookout, and sleep under the stars.”

      She arched a brow at his fanciful phrasing.

      “Too much?”

      “Let’s bring it down a notch. You’re supposed to be managing my expectations, remember?”

      “Right. Okay, here goes. Let’s try to get as far from the summit as possible before the afternoon rain hits and makes the terrain even more treacherous.”

      Well, that wasn’t as upbeat, but she’d asked for it. She noted a few dark clouds on the edge of the horizon and figured this was the likelier scenario. With a low groan, she rose to a standing position. After a quick stretch, she followed him down the hillside. Her arms and legs ached from overuse. She felt like a wrung-out dishrag. Logan, on the other hand, appeared hale and hearty as hell. Damn his rugged ass. She stared at his broad shoulders, remembering how his muscles had bunched beneath her fingertips, and how easily he’d lifted her.

      It started raining.

      He kept going.

      She tried to be strong and brave and a team player, but it was just beyond her. She was soaked from head to toe. Her energy was sapped. Hiking uphill while wearing leaves for shoes was difficult. Downhill, on wet ground...it was impossible. She slipped and fell hard, right on her butt. Although she had plenty of padding there, it didn’t feel sufficient. She felt like she’d gotten spanked by the island, big-time.

      She didn’t get up. She rolled onto her side and cried.

      He knelt next to her. His hand rested on her waist. Instead of asking questions, he waited for her to compose herself.

      “I’m okay,” she said finally. “I just fell.”

      “Where does it hurt?”

      She gestured to the general vicinity. The back of her dress had ridden up, exposing her sore, muddy bottom. He swept his palm over her abused flesh, squeezing gently. Then he gave her a soft pat of sympathy.

      “I don’t think anything’s broken,” he said.

      “Are you a medic, too?”

      “No.”

      She tugged her dress into place, suspecting he’d enjoyed that exam a little too much. He winced as he staggered upright, as if his knee was bothering him. The injury reminded her that he was a human being with real weaknesses. He wasn’t impervious to pain. He schooled his expression quickly and helped her to her feet.

      “We need to find shelter for the night.”

      Unfortunately, there were no convenient cabanas to duck into. There wasn’t even a dry rock to crawl under. She trudged along behind him, her head down. She was cold and wet and her butt hurt. The only pace she could manage was slow. The rain dissipated. The slope of the hillside became less severe, and the foliage grew thicker.

      In the gathering dusk she imagined a lot of creepy crawlers that probably weren’t there. Spiders hanging from the trees. Centipedes scuttling through wet leaves on the ground. Poisonous frogs, pit vipers and tiny, flesh-eating parasites.

      Then the mosquitos descended, and she wished for anything but them. She waved the buzzing nuisances away from her ears and wrapped the tulle around her head in an attempt to protect her face.

      When a mosquito bit the tender flesh behind her knee, she shrieked in protest. “I’m getting eaten alive!”

      “So am I,” Logan said, slapping his neck. “This sucks.”

      “Literally!”

      He dragged her toward a large rock formation that rose up in the gloom. Its mossy surface was covered in vines, hiding what appeared to be the mouth of a cave. He had to push aside the foliage to gain entry. It was pitch-black inside, and smelled bad. It was the least inviting shelter she could imagine, but she would’ve gone into Satan’s lair at this point. She held his hand in a tight grip as they ducked into the cave.

      “I don’t know what’s in here,” he whispered.

      “As long as it’s not more mosquitos.”

      He stayed still for several moments, breathing hard in the dark quiet. “We can’t explore the interior.”

      That was fine with her. She had no desire to explore. None whatsoever. Her eyes adjusted to the lack of light in slow increments. He sat down with his back against the cave wall. She wanted to curl up next to him, but she wasn’t sure which side of him was safer.

      What if a wild animal wandered in?

      What if one tried to get out?

      “Here,” he said, splaying his legs. She settled between them, her back against his front. He put his arms around her. He was wet, but warm. His heartbeat pounded in a strong, steady rhythm. Fast, but not too fast, like hers. He was alert, rather than panicked. That was comforting. She could count on him to stay calm even when she was freaking out.

      “What’s that smell?” she asked. “Rats?”

      “Bats.”

      Ugh. The hairs at her nape prickled at the thought of them flapping around her curls. Their nasty little teeth and leathery wings. At least the cave was free of mosquitos. She’d die of rabies, instead of malaria. “Can you make a fire?”

      “Not without dry wood.”

      She tried not to squirm around too much, but she was uncomfortable. The ground was hard against her sore bottom. She was hungry and thirsty.

      “Tell me about yourself,” he said.

      “What do you want to know?”

      “Where do you live?”

      “I lived in San Francisco, until recently. I left a few months after I broke up with Andrew. It seemed better to make a fresh start. Right now I’m staying at my parents’ house in Long Beach.”

      “I still live with my parents.”

      “You’re kidding.”

      “No. I’m overseas a lot, and they have a guest house. It works out.”

      “Where is it?”

      “Del Mar. It’s a suburb of San Diego.”

      “Is that where you’re from?”

      “Born and raised.”

      Her grandparents СКАЧАТЬ