Eden's Promise (14 page)

Below him, Eden fired, but her revolver was meant to be fired two-handed and she couldn’t do that and hold onto the tree. Still, it had the benefit of getting the running guy to duck as Aaron pulled up his gun again and pulled the trigger, this time hitting his target dead-center.

He finished off the third guy and, shaking with the post-adrenaline let-down, lowered himself down the tree, far enough that he could jump into the leaves below. Then he reached up for Eden. She landed beside him and shuddered against him.

“Gotta go,” he said. Who knew who would hear the shots and come after them?

Chapter Ten

Eden couldn’t take another step. She leaned against a tree and wheezed, her legs shaking, her chest aching with each breath. Aaron slowed and twisted to look at her. She couldn’t speak, could only shake her head to let him know she was done. Done. She didn’t even know how long or how far they’d run, only that she couldn’t do it anymore.

He walked back and grabbed her arm, trying to pull her forward, but she only held tighter to the tree and shook her head again. He looked past her into the forest, then back.

“Come on, Eden, I need you to go just a little farther.”

“Can’t. Sorry. Go on.”

“Right.” He moved closer and bent his knees, draping her arm over his shoulder.
 

She pulled away, stepping back. “You are not carrying me. I—” She took a deep breath through her nose. “I can do this.”

Again, he glanced back the way they’d come, and the muscles in his throat tightened. Tension ran through his body—it nearly vibrated across the distance between them. He wanted to go, now, but he wouldn’t leave her. That made her feel at once safe and mad. She didn’t want him to be responsible for her, but she was glad he was. She’d never, never thought this mission could end up like this. She’d seen dead bodies, bodies of people she knew, that she’d depended on to keep her safe. If something happened to Aaron...

She would not freak out. She would not. She was determined to be, if not as strong as him, someone that wouldn’t slow him down, someone that would put him in danger.
 

Taking a deep breath, she called upon every last ounce of strength and forced her legs to move, to run.
 

Finally, finally, he put out an arm and stopped her. She sagged against his arm, no longer had the strength to fight the tears of pain and exhaustion.

“There’s a house up ahead. If it’s empty, we can stay there.” He looked down at her shaking hands. “I need you to keep watch while I go see. Can you do that?”

“A minute,” she whispered, but didn’t allow herself that long. She took her gun and showed him how steady she could hold it. He cupped her face, kissed her hard on the mouth, and headed toward the house that she hadn’t seen until he mentioned it.
 

Everything made a sound once he disappeared. The breeze stirred up leaves, birds lighted on branches above, and she tried not to flinch at everything that sounded like a footstep. Her eyes burned from trying not to blink, lest she miss a sign of danger.
 

She brought up the gun when she saw movement in the branches in the direction Aaron had gone. He emerged, hands up, and she lowered the gun, shaking all over again.
 

“Clear,” he murmured. “We have a place to stay.”

***

Eden tried not to laugh as she followed Aaron into the little hunting cabin. How he’d seen it, she didn’t know, because the siding was dark brown and blended into the surrounding forest. The place was small, only a kitchen and a bedroom. But...

Aaron cross the cabin and pushed open a door to reveal a bathroom. Before she could speak, he twisted a faucet and water poured out. He turned to her with a grin.

“It’s cold, but it’s fresh. Well water.” He pointed to the shower. “That works too.”

She stared at the tiled space, wondering if she could stand up long enough to get undressed, much less to stand under the spray. Yet when she looked at the bed, she couldn’t imagine getting into it without washing the sweat off. She wavered in the doorway.

“Maybe you can start a fire?” she suggested.

He shook his head. “Don’t want anyone to see the smoke.”

Right. She hadn’t thought of that. But taking a cold shower in a cold cabin would be miserable. Good thing she was already miserable.

 
He crouched before her and unlaced her boots, then lifted one foot and removed the boot and sock. She bit back a sob of pain, of relief, as the cold air hit her foot. She winced as she stepped on the cold floor as he did the same to the other foot. He rose and reached for the buttons of her shirt. She could do no more than watch as his fingers moved from one button to the next, revealing the T-shirt beneath. Keeping his eyes on hers, he pushed the flannel shirt from her shoulders, down her arms, letting it fall to the floor.
 

She was trembling for a completely different reason when he reached for the hem of her thermal knit shirt and stripped it over her head. The heat of his body warmed her skin, and she wanted to lean into him. Instead, she stood still as he reached behind her for the clasp of her bra. Holding her gaze, he drew the flimsy fabric down her arms. She barely heart the gentle sound of the garment landing on her shirt over the sound of her pulse pounding in her ears. His breath gusted hot against her skin but he didn’t touch her. He unfastened her pants and pushed them down, along with her panties.
 

Naked, but she couldn’t make herself move away from him, toward the shower. Still watching her, he eased back enough to strip off his own thermal shirt and flannel in one move, and his scent flooded her senses, musky and male and wonderful. Again, she suppressed the urge to lean into him, to press her breasts against his chest.
 

He reached between them for the buckle of his pants, opened it, and the fabric dropped.
 

And then he touched her, and her senses exploded, dissolving her self-control. Her eyes drifted shut and she swayed toward him.
 

Instead of kissing her, he prodded her into the bathroom. As she processed the change in direction, he leaned past her and twisted the knobs, sending the cold shower spray bouncing off his shoulders, making her blink, then shiver.
 

He stepped into the tiled compartment with his back to the shower head, and drew her in with him. She looked up to see his jaw tight, his skin pale as he absorbed the impact of the cold water. He brought her close against him, his rough hands sliding up her back, her breasts nestled against his chest, her nipples hard in reaction to the cold. His skin was chilled, and her teeth began to chatter as he reached for the soap.
 

He lathered his hands and ran them over her back to her ass, pulling her against his flagging erection before he slid his soapy hands up beneath her breasts, over her nipples, pinching them lightly before sliding beneath her arms, then turning so that she was beneath the spray. She shrieked as the water sluiced over her, and he chuckled, holding her hair out so it could get wet beneath the spray.

“We might think about cutting this,” he murmured. “Be easier to wash.”

She winced and reached up to take her hair from him. “I’ll manage.”

“Girls and their hair.” He bent close, a smirk on his lips, and again she anticipated his mouth on her, his lips on her skin. Again, he disappointed her, stepping back and running the bar of soap over his chest.

She couldn’t help herself—she followed the trails he made, those strong hands, that broad chest, those muscular shoulders. She didn’t even feel the cold water anymore.
 

“You’d better wash your hair before we turn into popsicles,” he said, reaching down to lather himself, and it took every ounce of self control not to watch.
 

He placed his hands on her hips and switched places with her again, washing his own hair in a couple of seconds as she lathered hers.
 

Then he stepped from beneath the spray and helped her work the shampoo out of her hair.

“Used to think showering together was sexy as hell,” he murmured. “When I’m not freezing my balls off. Shit, even my fingers are frozen.” He released her hair to shake his hands, then returned them to help her. Then he shut the water off, reached for a towel from the shelf above the toilet, shook it out and wrapped it around her hair before he grabbed another for him and another for her, shaking them out first.

“Don’t want spiders,” he said, drying off briskly as she wrapped her towel around him, feeling oddly shy now.
 

He turned away and pulled back the bedding, checking through each layer before he turned to her and held out a hand. “We need to warm up.”

The chill that seemed to permeate her bones damn near melted as she took his hand and let him pull her into bed, drew her against his cold skin, and pulled the covers up over them. Her feet were icy, but he tucked them between his calves to warm them. Again, she felt his body stir against her belly and she couldn’t stop herself from wriggling back. He caught his breath, and pressed his hand between her shoulder blades, drawing her closer.
 

And then his mouth was on hers, not urgent like before, but soft and slow, his mouth open, his tongue sliding, rolling, leisurely exploring. He glided his hand down to her ass, pressing her hips into his, into the growing heat of his erection, before relaxing his grip to trace circles over her hip, fingertips teasing the crease where her thigh met her ass. She gasped into his mouth and he chuckled, sliding his touch between her legs to find her ready.

“At least part of you is hot,” he murmured, and she bowed her head back as he moved his fingers over her, into her.
 

When she slid her hand down to touch him, he captured her wrist.
 

“You put those cold fingers on me and we’ll have to start all over again.”

She curled her hand into an empty fist. “That wouldn’t be so terrible.”

“No,” he said, removing his touch, and she whimpered.

He chuckled, and lowered his mouth to her shoulder, coasted his lips along her collarbone, making her breasts ache. His hands were hard on her back, holding her close as he inched down her body, over the slope of her breast, capturing her nipple with his teeth. She arched into him, holding his head to her. He opened his mouth over her, his tongue dragging over her flesh, flicking her nipple, drawing on her. His hand molded her waist.
 

“You’re so beautiful.”
 

She laughed and he looked up at her.
 

“What?”

“You listened.”

He chuckled, holding her gaze up the length of her body. “I did,” he said, and slid his thumb between her legs.
 

Just the brush of his callused thumb sent her over the edge, coming in long, slow pulses, and then he came into her, stretching her, catching his breath as she squeezed around him. He pushed deeper, one hand smoothing her hair, the other bracing against the mattress for leverage. She curled up around him, holding tight to his shoulders, his skin no longer cold, her legs around his hips.
 

He smiled, but kept the pace steady, slow, building her back up, his control sexy as hell. And the way he looked at her...

The orgasm caught her by surprise. She tightened her legs and rode it out, moving into him, and feeling him tense, feeling him let go inside her.

He held himself over her for a moment, buried deep inside her, before he pulled out and fell onto the bed beside her.

“Hell of a way to warm up,” he murmured, and pulled the blankets up around both of them.

As he drifted off to sleep, she realized they hadn’t used a condom.

***

She debated mentioning the omission in the morning as they scrounged for breakfast in the cupboards. The place was actually pretty well stocked, and they filled their packs. Eden was particularly happy to find a bag of chocolate chips in the stash.

Shit, she hoped she wasn’t pregnant. She trailed her fingertips over her belly. No way could she take care of a child, not in this world. What had they been thinking?

They’d been thinking that it felt good.
 

Did he realize it? Hadn’t it felt different?

No, she wasn’t going to say anything. She was just going to make sure they never made that mistake again.

And it didn’t happen, not the next night or the next, when they couldn’t find shelter, so they huddled together and took turns keeping watch.

The next day they came upon a farm at the edge of the forest. Judging from the level of disrepair, Eden reasoned it must be abandoned. The fences were broken, the roof appeared to have holes in it, but there were still cattle and horses roaming around.
 

Aaron flashed her a grin. “Wait here.”

She watched as he approached one of the horses, who tossed its head skittishly and danced away. Aaron didn’t give up, naturally. He pursued the horse, one hand out, and the sound of his voice carried back to her, soothing, low. The horse danced away again. Aaron, moving slowly, drew something from his pack and held it out to the horse. The animal’s ears pricked forward and after what seemed like an eternity, stepped forward to see what he held. Eden admitted to being curious, too. The horse ate from his hand, and he pet the animal with his other hand, before looping something around its head and leading it off.