Stolen Chances (17 page)

“I think that’s Patrick’s storm coming in,” Thad said next to her.

Patrick’s storm… She tried to remember what her father had told her about the incoming weather but drew a blank. At the time, she’d been so worried about the dive, she hadn’t cared what was happening on land.

Thad tugged on her hand and pulled her back toward the beach. “We need to keep moving. That’s gonna reach us soon, and we’re going to need shelter.”

Maren knew he was right, but she didn’t want to leave. And though it went against every one of her resolutions where he was concerned, she only wanted to go on feeling his arms around her.

Reluctantly, she followed him out of the surf and brushed her wet hair away from her face. Thad hefted the tanks back on, then grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. They stayed on the beach, heading north. The rain hit, and a shiver raced down Maren’s spine. For the first time she started to wonder if maybe the jungle heat wasn’t so bad after all.

They moved into the trees to try to get away from the steadily increasing wind. Rain ran down Thad’s face and dripped onto his chest. Maren continually wiped the water from her eyes and tried to keep up. This wasn’t just a tropical depression. This storm had morphed into something bigger, and as the trees whipped and howled above them, fear started to slither in. She’d thought their biggest threat was below water. Now it seemed even Mother Nature was against them.

“Maren, look.”

Thad drew Maren to a halt about two miles up the beach. She peered through the blinding rain and zipping palm fronds toward what looked like…a beach resort. A series of small, similar-looking casitas were set back from the sand.

Relief teased the edge of her mind. Shelter. A place to get out of the wind and rain.

Thad tugged on her arm. “This way.”

They ran toward the buildings. There was no way to tell where the main office was, but the place looked deserted. People had obviously evacuated for the storm. He dragged her around the back of one of the buildings toward a door, then dropped his tanks on the ground. Gripping the rusted door handle, he shoved his hip against the solid wood.

The wood groaned but didn’t budge. Thad did it again. Shivering, Maren wiped more water out of her eyes and prayed the damn door wasn’t dead bolted.

Something moved to her right, and she turned to look that way, but before she could focus through the blinding rain, a two-by-four slammed into the side of Thad’s head.

He grunted and went down with a thud. Maren screamed, a shadow moved, and then the two-by-four swung out again. She ducked at the last second and missed being nailed. The shadow growled and swung out once more. Maren jumped back and, in an instant, realized it wasn’t just a shadow, it was a person.

A woman.

She was dressed all in black, in heavy boots, cargo pants, and a long-sleeved black shirt, and her hair was piled on top of her head. And she swung that two-by-four like Babe Ruth.

“You are not welcome here,” the woman growled in a thick accent, swinging the board again.

“We’re just trying to get out of the storm.” She ducked behind a palm tree and shook water from her eyes. “Stop! Oh my God. Why the hell are you swinging that at me?”

“Because you covet something that does not belong to you.”

The woman stepped to the side, and Maren darted to her right, behind the shelter of another tree. “I’m sorry. We’ll leave. We didn’t know this was your place—”

“Not the place,” the woman said, advancing on her. “
La Malinche
.”

In a flash, Maren recognized her. The woman from the market. The one she thought she’d seen at the docks when they’d left for their first dive. Her heart rate shot up. “I’m not—”

“Do not lie!” the woman hollered in a thick accent. “
Las Hermanas de Protección
safeguards the location of
La Malinche
. You will not find her!”

She swung out with the beam again. Maren looked right and left and realized she’d backed herself into a corner. Thick brush stood at her back. Tall trees blocked her path to the right and left. Her adrenaline surged.

“I don’t care about
La Malinche
!” she yelled. “I’m just trying to protect my daughter. You’re a woman. You have to understand that!”

Wind howled and whipped Maren’s hair in front of her face. The woman stopped her swing in midair and stared at Maren. Slowly, her dark eyes narrowed.

Yes, yes…
Maybe she’d gotten through to her.

“Doña Marina had one daughter. She had to give her up, for her own safety. She—”

Silver flashed in the corner of Maren’s vision, then slammed into the back of the woman’s head. The woman grunted and went down. The two-by-four flew out of her hand and landed against the base of a tree. Through the raging wind and rain, Maren caught sight of Thad, swaying as he braced a hand against the trunk of a nearby palm.

“Oh my God.” Blood ran in rivulets down the side of his face, mixing with the rain sliding across his skin. She stepped over the woman’s still body and rushed up to him, catching him before he went down. “You’re bleeding.”

“That’s how you use a dive tank, bitch,” he said, looking down at the woman’s unmoving body.

Maren tugged him toward another building. He moved slowly, as if half out of it. Wind slapped in their faces, and wet hair whipped across her eyes. She pulled him up the two small steps and helped him lean against the building. “Stay here!” she called through the storm.

She ran back down the steps toward the tanks. She didn’t know if they’d need the water or not, but it was better to be prepared. A chill rushed down her spine when she realized the woman was gone. She looked right and left. Didn’t see anyone. But the storm had kicked up even more since they’d arrived, and it was nearly impossible to see more than a few feet in front of her now. Realizing there was nothing else she could do, she grabbed the tanks and ran back to where she’d left Thad. Blood dripped down onto his bare chest, and his eyes were closed, his head tipped back against the wall.

Fear caused her heart rate to soar. She had to get him out of the storm. She tried the door, but it was locked. Realizing she’d never be strong enough to knock it in on her own, she grabbed the tank and slammed the base against the lock.

The door cracked. She did it again, this time putting her weight behind it. The door gave with a crash, and she stumbled into the room.

She didn’t waste time looking around. She dropped the tank, ran back out, and helped Thad to his feet, then brought him inside. After helping him sit on the bed, she ran into the small bathroom, grabbed a towel, and brought it back to him. Then she shoved a small dresser in front of the door to keep it closed.

In the shelter of the room, she could finally breathe. She turned and looked over the small space. A bed, a couple of lamps, and windows that looked out toward the beach. A basic beach motel, if you wanted something rustic in the southern Yucatan. But the howling wind and sideways rain slamming into the casita kept her from relaxing. And all that glass set her nerves right back to vibrating.

She crossed to Thad, who’d flopped back on the bed, and tugged him to his feet. “Come on. Into the bathroom.”

“Just want to sleep.”

“Not until I make sure you’re okay. And I’m afraid if this storm gets any stronger, this room might be a death trap.”

“Lots of things a person can do in a bathroom,” he mumbled. “Sleep isn’t one of them.”

She smiled, because at least the teasing tone was back in his voice. That was a good sign. “As long as you don’t have a concussion, you can sleep. Even in a bathroom.”

She helped him sit on the edge of the tub, had him hold a towel against his bleeding forehead, then went back into the bedroom and ripped the sheet off the bed. She dropped it and all the pillows she could find on the floor in the bathroom, then went back out and dragged the mattress in with her.

“Sweetheart,” he slurred, “if you wanted to roll across the sheets, we could have done it out there. This room’s not big enough for my acrobatics.”

“Cute.” She leaned the mattress against the sink and toilet, then lifted the sheet from the floor and ripped it into strips. Stepping in front of him, she reached for the towel at his forehead. “Let me see.”

The towel was soaked in blood, and she cringed when she pulled it away and saw the gash at the end of his eyebrow. The wound was red and angry, and a bruise was already forming around the spot. Head wounds bled a lot, she reminded herself. He was okay; they were okay. So long as this storm didn’t kill them, they’d be fine.

She dabbed at the spot and knew by the way he hissed in a breath that it had to hurt like hell. Trying to be gentle, she folded the cotton strip lengthwise, then tied it around his head. “This is the best I can do for a bandage right now. At least you won’t have to hold the towel up.”

He closed his eyes and gripped the side of the tub. “Call me Mr. Miyagi.”

She laughed at the
Karate Kid
reference. “You’re dating yourself, Leighton.”

“What can I say? I’m a child of the eighties.”

She remembered. She remembered a lot of things.

Shaking off the memories trying to seep in, she tossed the pillows into the tub so they cushioned the basin. Then she lifted his feet over the side and said, “Get in.”

He shot her a look. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Have you ever been in a hurricane? Trust me, when broken glass starts flying, you’ll be thanking me.”

He studied her a minute with that silly bandage on his head, the red seeping through and his eyes only half-open. And though they were still a little dazed, they were also heated, and so damn sexy she started to wonder if maybe this wasn’t the smartest idea she’d ever come up with.

“You’re coming in too, I take it?”

Yeah, that was the plan, but Maren was suddenly second-guessing herself.

A slow smile spread across his lips, and he eased down onto the pillows in the tub and held out his hand. “Come on, Blondie.”

Wind howled. The little casita shook. But when glass shattered in the other room, she didn’t even hesitate.

She climbed in with him, lay on her side against his, and pulled the mattress over the top of them, creating a padded shelter on one side.

“Now this,” he said on a sigh, “is what I call cozy.”

Thad wrapped his arm around her, bringing her tight against his body, and his heat immediately seeped into Maren, warming her from the outside in. Yeah, okay, this definitely wasn’t the brightest idea, because pressed up against him like this, with his hard body plastered to hers and the mattress cocooning them in safety, all she could suddenly think about was sliding her body over his and letting him ease the fear still teasing the edges of her mind.

He breathed deep, rested his head back against the tub, and rubbed his hand down her arm. “Who was that crazy bitch outside?”

“I-I don’t know.” She tried to focus on his question, and not on how good he felt, but it was futile. She’d always loved snuggling in with him like this. Loved the way he smelled and the soft caress of his fingers and the way when she was with him, it was as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. “I saw her in the market. And again at the marina when we set sail for that first dive. And I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure she was the one in the cenote who set off that explosion. She’s trying to keep us from finding
La Malinche
.”

“She said that?”

“Pretty much. She said ‘Las Hermanas protects the location of
La Malinche
.’”

“Hmm.” Thad was silent for a moment, but his hand against Maren’s arm kept moving, kept sending tiny arcs of electricity all along her skin. “We’ll have to mention it to Patrick when we see him.”

Her father was the last person she wanted to talk about. She rested her hand against Thad’s chest and marveled at the muscles hidden beneath his tanned skin. He thought she was sexy? He had no idea. While he’d been attractive in his twenties, in his midthirties he was more confident, more muscular, and just downright hot. He probably had women falling for him all the time.

That thought was more depressing than she liked, so she pushed it aside and looked up. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back, but there was the slightest smile on his lips. One that made her think he was enjoying this as much as she was. “How’s your head?”

“Better,” he answered without opening his eyes. “I think I’m gonna have to call you
my
hero from now on.”

“I’m not the one who knocked her out.”

His smile faded. “I hope she’s still out. And that the storm carries her away.”

“She was gone when I went back for the tanks. I think we’re safe until this weather blows over.”

“Or until she—whoever she is—brings back reinforcements.”

Yeah, Maren had considered that too, but for whatever reason, she had a feeling the woman wouldn’t. There’d been a look in her eyes when Maren had mentioned Isabel—a connection between them, as if the woman suddenly understood. And though it was crazy, Maren sensed that woman wasn’t going to come after her again. At least not tonight.

She shook off the strange feeling and studied his bandage. “We’ll just make sure we’re gone when she comes back. In the meantime…let me check your head.”

She shifted up, but there was very little room to move side to side in the tub. Finally realizing the easiest way to reach his forehead was to kneel, she lifted her leg and straddled his hips, careful to keep her weight on her knees so she wouldn’t sink into him.

Her fingers grazed his forehead as she lifted the bandage and checked the wound. The bleeding had slowed considerably. After changing the bandage, she tightened it around his head and was just about to climb off him when his hands landed at her waist, holding her in place.

“Thad,” she warned.

A sexy, one-sided smile spread across his face. “I’m cold, Blondie. I have a head injury. You don’t want me to go into shock now, do you?”

He was playing her. He wasn’t going into shock. And she needed to get off him right this minute. But oh, he felt good between her legs. And when he tugged her weight down until her hips were pressing against his and his growing erection was nestled right between her thighs, her brain short-circuited.