Authors: Jennifer Dellerman
His lips twisted in a smug smile. That’s when he realized he had her pinned against the barn. Her body was limp in his arms, and her cheek lay on his shoulder. Her arms drooped at her sides.
“Baby?”
“Nhn.” The unintelligible sound made him smile again, tenderly this time. “I need you to stand. Can you do that for me?”
Slowly, her head rose and she blinked at him. “Hi.”
He grinned at her dazed expression. God, she delighted him. “Hi. I need to, um.”
“Condom. Right.” She yawned.
Nice to know he could put her to sleep. She slid her legs from his waist slowly, easing down until she could stand on her own two feet. Though she looked sexy as hell, he untucked her skirt from the waistband and let it fall back around her thighs.
“You okay?” Cautiously, he slipped off the condom and twisted the opening of the latex into a knot. He tossed it, for now, under the stairs. The panties he picked up and shoved into his back pocket.
“Hmm.” Her sleepy smile made him wish he could carry her up to his bed and snuggle, not stand there, doing up his jeans and leaving to take his shift on watch patrol.
“I need to take you back to your room. I’d suggest mine, but I won’t be there for several hours.”
That snapped her awake. “Oh.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why won’t you be there for several hours?”
“Patrol.” He took her hand and strolled from behind the barn. “Dad, Santos, Rome, and I are all taking turns tonight. Probably for the next several nights.”
“How come?” She shook her head. “It’s not because of me, is it?”
Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips to her knuckles before opening the gate. “Just a little extra service we provide.”
Rachel dug in her heels. “Porter. No.”
He simply picked her up, one arm supporting her back, the other under her knees, and ignored her squawk of surprise. “Yes.”
“It’s not necessary.” She gripped his chin. “Really. It’s not. You have enough security here already. The cameras are probably recording this right now.”
He bypassed the garden and stepped onto a stone walkway. “Probably. But a hundred cameras don’t come close to what a single shifter can hear, see, smell and do.”
She sighed and dropped her head on his shoulder. “I know that. I’m sorry for causing everyone so much trouble.”
“Never.” He stopped outside the kitchen door, setting Rachel to her feet. “You’re never to think you’re any trouble. And honestly…” He kissed her, one hard, smacking smooch. “We love doing this type of thing. It makes us feel all manly and needed.”
Before Rachel could respond, the door opened to reveal Bob, and a very large shotgun in his hand. “I thought I heard voices. Whatcha doing out here this time of night, Rachel?” He glanced at Porter’s face and muttered, “Never mind. Come on in and let the boy get back to work. It’s nearly midnight.”
“Bob?”
The older man nodded. “I’ll see her to her room.”
Porter raised a hand and the two men shook. “Thanks. I appreciate it. You.” He bussed her mouth with his own. “I’ll see you in the morning.” At her frown of confusion, he trailed a finger down her nose. “We’re going caving.”
Chapter Sixteen
A headache was brewing behind Rachel’s eyes. Realizing she’d been shaking her head side to side for who knew how long, she closed her eyes, and to her surprise, found immediate relief.
Her sigh, though quiet, seemed overly loud in the underground cave. In the soothing darkness, she ignored the voices and movements of those around her and held up a mental image of her surroundings.
Per Ria, their official tour guide for this particular adventure, the cave was just under fourteen hundred square feet. The uneven, jagged ceiling varied from nine to eleven feet over their heads. Rock walls in alternating shades of black, brown, and white, along with plenty of limestone, encompassed the cave while stalactites protruded from the ceiling, their mates rising from the ground in slender points.
The tunnel itself had expanded and contracted, yet never dipped low enough that anyone had to stoop. Gauging the length they’d walked and the direction, she thought the tunnel roughly paralleled the trail the group used to reach the underground ruin, where the rocky corridor began. If so, the cave was outside the secured gate leading into the above reserve. Probably where the trees abruptly stopped and gave way to dirt and grass. Hardly anything grew on the far eastern section of the property, where the bay curved and formed a cove, then further north, into a swampland. The latter served as a nesting ground for the resident alligators.
Blanching at that, Rachel took a deep breath in through her nose, and smelled Porter.
“You okay? Do you need to leave?”
Rachel nodded, then shook her head. Eyes still firmly shut, she said, “I was getting a bit of a headache, but it seems to be gone now.”
His barely audible laugh ruffled her feathers.
“You think that’s funny?” Her shoulders straightened at the insult.
A brush of warm and callused fingers on her nape. A rough spark of heat that sizzled to her toes. Her lips firmed. She would not shiver. Would not succumb to the waking arousal for the male who apparently thought her pain amusing.
He did it again. Down the side of her neck to just above her collarbone. Sensitive flesh he’d sunk teeth into last night. Not enough to break the skin, but definitely enough to leave a mark. His mark.
She shivered.
Ugh!
“No, but the reason behind it is.”
Doubting that, she crossed her arms over her chest, lest she smack the merriment from his tone. “Oh, really?”
“Hmm. Open your eyes.”
Highly suspicious, she frowned. “Why?”
As close as he was to her, his put-out sigh whispered over her cheek, zinging to every part of her, as if that little exhalation was a naked, full-body caress.
Disturbed at how quickly she still reacted to him on a physical level, she hugged herself tighter.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his voice akin to the darkest of sinful pleasure. “Let’s see those gorgeous green eyes of yours. So deep and full of fire, like the heart of the most exquisite emerald.”
Damn, she kept forgetting how good he was with words. And that seductive voice. The most tempting of lures that had her wanting to obey. With a sniff of disdain, of course.
Opening her eyes, she turned to glare at him, and got caught by the light from her hardhat reflected on the rock wall in front of her. She stared at it, moved her head, and followed the path as if transfixed.
The light suddenly went out, and everything in her sighed in relief. “What the hell was that?”
“The movement of the light attracts your leopard.” Words softly spoken so as to not reach other ears. “Mesmerizing her, like prey. It’s a good thing you can’t shift”—not a recrimination, a fact—”else she might have taken over and pounced. It’s why Curtis remained topside.”
Scowling at being manipulated by a freaking light, Rachel glanced up at Porter. “He’s not claustrophobic?”
He shook his head, a dark lock falling over his brow. Wanting to reach out and brush the silky strands back, she kept her twitching fingers plastered to her ribs.
“While he’s strong enough to keep his other half leashed, fighting the instinct to stalk takes effort. We’re working on it, but with guests around, it’s best he stays with the horses.”
Her eyes went back to his thick hair again. “That why you didn’t wear a hat?”
His grin flashed. “That and because they’re ugly as sin and equally uncomfortable.” He brushed the tips of two fingers along her cheek, down to her jaw line. “Use the flashlight instead.” Gwen had passed one out to each person before they entered the tunnel. “The beam’s diffused so it’s not as compelling to your cat. And keep your eyes averted from the other lights. You don’t need them to see, do you?”
Her insides melted at the gentle touch. “My night vision is excellent. Not daylight bright, but good enough to see without tripping over anything.”
His dark eyes went impossibly darker. “Your glasses?”
“Still need them for anything close up. Why?”
Edging closer, his body heat seeped into her, shoving aside the chill created by the underground cave and replacing it with sensual warmth. “I want to be inside you while you wear nothing but those glasses.” On that provocative note, he dodged off, leaving her with an erotic picture now engraved on her brain.
Shaking her head, she pivoted, viewing the cave anew, and without the distraction of the helmet’s light. Taking Porter’s advice, she refrained from looking directly at the shifting beams from the other hikers. It was difficult, but not impossible.
Across the cave, Alex bounced on his toes, full of boyish energy as he peered everywhere at once. Next to him stood his father; Ross; another park ranger, Dennis; and Ria. Porter said something to make Christa and Gwen, who were standing several feet away from the rest of the group, laugh.
Rachel didn’t have a clue what he was saying, but her lips curved anyway. Then her eyes slanted left, and jerked to a halt. It seemed their little chat hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Other than where the beams of helmet lights or flashlights landed, the cave was pitch black. Beth probably could make out Rachel’s form, especially since the other woman’s helmet was tipped back at a jaunty angle, its beam shining a foot or so over Rachel’s head. Without her own light on, Rachel, if human, wouldn’t be able to see Beth’s expression.
Except she wasn’t human and she did see.
Rachel had wanted to scratch out the other woman’s eyes with her sly “stable master” comment last night. Like that was so subtle. Then the nasty, round-about dig that Rachel was nothing more than a toddler if she’d had to learn to ride on Daisy. So of course Rachel had taken perverse delight, though only after shock had faded, when that piece of flan had smacked the other woman right in the middle of her forehead.
Not believing the air conditioning ruse for a second, Rachel had remained dumbfounded all night. Believing the ghost of Cort Fylin had struck seemed impossible.
But so was flying flan.
Now, by the nasty gleam in Beth’s eyes, Porter’s ex not only wanted another opportunity to humiliate Rachel, she wanted to eviscerate her as well. Then stomp her intestines into the ground as extra measure.
Rachel’s feline twitched her tail in a kiss-my-ass gesture.
Nice. Real mature.
“Let’s turn off the helmet lights so we don’t blind each other.” Gwen’s voice echoed in the cavern. “Use your flashlights until we head back.”
Rachel flicked on her flashlight and swiveled back to the far left section of the cave wall that had caught her interest before the dancing light had ensnared it. From the entrance, the way the limestone covered this particular area had appeared as disjointed steps. Up close, not so much. Just random patches.
“We brought in generators on numerous occasions, illuminating every inch of the cave. We’ve found no other exit.”
Despite what Ria was saying, Rachel thought there had to be another exit. The air wasn’t stale; it even had a slight tinge of salt. Not unfathomable considering both the cave and tunnel, according to Ria and Gwen, were once submerged by the ocean. Still, if the cave had truly been sealed tighter than a drum for decades, if not centuries, it should at least smell musty.
With a shrug of her shoulders, Rachel tensed her leg muscles to turn and rejoin the group milling around the cave when her flashlight tilted in her hand.
She froze, breath snagged in the back of her throat. Her heart froze as well, and then leapt into a wild gallop that threatened to block out everything except its rapid thundering.
Because she wasn’t the one who tilted the light.
Here she was, in a dark—and, thanks to the unseen hand, now totally creepy—cave that pirates were thought to have used. Stories of hidden treasure always made the imagination go haywire, so of course her own would conjure up something totally and completely irrational.
As irrational as flying flan?
Rachel swallowed. Considering all possibilities, she came up with only one answer. Making a decision, she took a quick peek to gauge where everyone else was, because if she was about to make an idiot out of herself, she preferred to do so in private. Forcing her fingers to go lax around the handle of the light, she whispered, “All right. Show me.”
She felt like the world’s biggest moron, until the beam tilted down once again over a section of limestone about thigh high.
That creepy feeling increased to an all-out skin crawl, leaving goose bumps on every inch of her flesh. Battling the urge to jump and fling her arms madly about while screaming, she inhaled a spine-straightening breath, counted to ten, and then dropped into a crouch.
Holding the flashlight at approximately the same angle, Rachel peered at the highlighted limestone. She had no idea what she was looking for, but she was looking, and seeing nothing.
Not one to give up so easily, especially when urged on by an unseen force, she braced her free hand on the wall and leaned closer. Of course, without her glasses, the closer she got to the wall, the more blurred everything became.
And she saw it. She jerked back so fast she lost her balance and nearly toppled onto her butt. Righting herself before that happened, she darted another look around at the other hikers before she eyed the same spot. Again, nothing.
Thinking about those pictures containing a second picture that could only be deduced by letting your eyes blur, Rachel did just that, and saw the same five claw marks underneath the limestone.
This time she didn’t jolt, though her heart did. In exhilaration.
Adjusting her light, she checked out varying sections of the wall the same way and quickly came to the conclusion the marks ended about three feet above the ground. But the most scintillating discovery was the claw scrape that disappeared
into
the rock floor.
“The tunnel gradually ascends, so the cave is much closer to the surface than the ruin in the reserve. We roughly estimate there’s three to six feet of rock and soil over our heads.”
“But what’s underneath our feet?” Rachel whispered to herself after Ria’s statement. Putting her free hand out, palm down, she very slowly skimmed it along the base of the wall where it merged into the floor.