The Girl from Her Mirror (Mirrors Don't Lie Book 1) (20 page)

“I think I found a good spot to hide the
truck,” Hardin reported when he returned. “Good cover, easy in, easy out. Other
than being cold, I think you should be fine to wait there.”

“I’ll wear plenty of layers,” Makenna
promised. To be honest, she hadn’t thought about how cold it would be, sitting
in a vehicle during the dark, cold hours of night. But it would be better than
waiting up here, miles away, with no chance of escape.

“Let me take a quick shower and find us
something to eat, then we can work out our strategy. After that we should take
a nap. I figure if we leave around 10:30 tonight, it will put me reaching town
before one. With any luck, we should get to Logan by four. There’s a 5:50
flight into Austin I plan to be on.”

The fire had all but burned out, but
Makenna sat staring at the fireplace, lost in thought. Tiny curls of smoke
escaped from the ashes, racing upward to the chimney. Would their escape be
like that? A race to get away? Fear clutched her stomach as new worries
assailed her. Dozens of ‘what ifs’ entered her mind.

But the moment Hardin stepped from the
bathroom, dressed in his wind pants and a clean white t-shirt that clung to him
like a second skin, all her worries – every thought in her head! - vanished
faster than the smoke tendrils. The man definitely knew how to fill out a
t-shirt. Makenna couldn’t fault the fabric for clinging to his sculpted abs,
hugging his chiseled chest, circling around his bulging biceps. Her eyes did
the same. With so much masculinity stuffed into one simple shirt, the entire
room suddenly felt smaller. She knew she was staring, she knew she should look
away, but her eyes and her brain were not communicating. Her mind, in fact, was
completely muddled.

Makenna tried to shift her focus to
something else. Her eyes trailed up to his face, so handsome and captivating in
its own right. Tiny droplets of water clung to the trim beard that cornered his
jaw, and his hair appeared a few shades darker when wet. By the time her eyes
finally met his, the extraordinary blue depths twinkled with smug mischief. He
was fully aware of his effect on her.

“What they say about hot water is true,”
he proclaimed. “It does wonders for a body and soul.” He padded over to his
suitcase on the bed, offering a nice view from the rear. Even the man’s bare
feet were sexy.

Makenna reminded herself to breathe
normally. So she was alone in a secluded mountain cabin with the sexiest man
she had ever seen. So what? She had slept beside him in the same bed last
night. True, pain and exhaustion had overruled hormones, but she had survived
the night without making an idiot of herself. Why ruin it now? Just because she
was feeling better and her hormones were making themselves known was no reason
to come undone at the mere sight of his muscular body on display.

Deciding the fall had shaken something
loose in her head and regions much further south, Makenna chided herself for
noticing details like the obvious strength in his feet, the taut stretch of
muscle down his thigh, the firm rise of his buttocks, the sharp blade of his
honed shoulders.
Assignment.
She reminded herself.
I’m just his
assignment.

“Why don’t I rustle us up a meal and
we’ll eat outside on the back deck?” he asked. “It really is an amazing view.”

She was enjoying the view just fine, but
she suddenly needed the space offered by the outdoors.

Using the very muscles she had ogled,
Hardin helped Makenna hobble outside. The back porch extended onto a small deck
that overhung a steep rocky slope. The view beyond was magnificent, even with
its barren trees and dormant grasses. Makenna stood against the rail, careful
to keep the weight off her foot while she enjoyed a few moments in an upright
position. She imagined what the view must be like in a few more months, when
everything was green and lush.

And when she thought about the same view
in the fall, the breath quickened in her chest. She could imagine all the
vibrant colors, the oranges and golds and reds. Like yesterday, an odd ache
stabbed in her heart, and the image in her mind felt more like a memory than a
figment of her imagination. Struck again by an overwhelming sensation of deja
vu, Makenna contemplated its meaning until Hardin returned with their meal.

“The other picnic basket has fried
chicken and potato salad, but I figured we could save that for tonight,” he told
her as he unloaded the assortment in his arms. “This isn’t exactly a
conventional meal, but it should be filling.”

Makenna surveyed the offering of
crackers, two kinds of chips and dips, pimento cheese, chocolate chip cookies,
and the locally bottled sodas from the country store they visited. “Looks
delicious,” she grinned. “And I’ve always believed in a balanced diet — a
cookie in each hand.”

“See?” Hardin grinned back. “That’s why
I fell for you in the first place!”

He went about the task of opening containers
and arranging them on the table, oblivious to the wild hammering of her heart.
The heavy thud was almost painful, and Makenna idly wondered if she had damaged
her heart in the fall. No doubt it was bruised, if only by the knowledge of
what could never be. His playful words were simply a reminder that their
would-be relationship had been doomed from the beginning; neither of them were
who they first professed to be.

After eating, Hardin brought out the
first-aid kit and tended to her wounds. Most of them were healing well enough
to be left unbandaged. He put another patch on her abdomen, wrapped her foot
once again, taped up the gash still puckered near her elbow, and put another
ice pack on her leg, even though the swelling was down and the pain was more
manageable.

“At least this is the same hand I hurt
at Sabbaday Falls.” She was trying to look on the bright side as Hardin fussed
over her hand. The older cuts, the ones left by briers when she stumbled at the
Falls, were puffy and red with infection. She hissed when he insisted on
cleaning them out and smearing them with a thick layer of antibiotic salve. He
also put generous amounts on two of her fingers where tiny strips of skin were
missing, and on a third where a cut sliced over her knuckle. Her entire palm
was a mess, crisscrossed with old and new scrapes and lacerations, and the hole
left by the stick. Wrapping it with thick bandages seemed the only solution.

“If I haven’t said it before, I’m really
sorry you were hurt yesterday,” he told her solemnly. “If I could have stopped
it, you know I would have.”

Makenna struggled to follow the thread
of the conversation.
What is wrong with me? I’m acting like a teenager!
He
was hunched over her hand, muscles flexing and rippling as he wrapped her palm
with exquisite care. His fingers were warm where they touched her, his touch
strong but gentle. He was close enough she could detect the lingering scent of
soap on his tanned skin, and it was having the strangest effect on her senses.
It’s
that stupid t-shirt he’s wearing. Who can think straight with so much
testosterone staring you in the face?

“It was my fault, really,” she murmured.
“I should have answered your calls, I should have heard you out. I should have
trusted you.”

“I understand. You didn’t know who to
trust yesterday. But now?” She could hear the quiet desperation in his voice,
the fear. When he looked up to catch her gaze, she saw the intensity in his
amazing blue eyes.

Did she trust him? It was a two-fold
question.

With her life? Yes.

With her heart? She wasn’t sure.

“I pegged you as one of the good guys
all along,” she answered.

“Yet you believed the worst of me.” His
voice held more hurt than accusation.

“It’s that suspicious nature you accused
me of the other night at dinner.”

When he didn’t look convinced, she
squirmed and averted her gaze. “Look, I don’t have the best track record with
men,” she admitted. “It was easier to believe you were evil, than to think I
might really have a chance at finding the right guy this time.”

A pleased smile hovered around his
well-formed mouth. “The right guy, huh? I like the sound of that.”

“I should have known you were too good
to be true,” she muttered. She was aggravated that she still found him so
charming, so downright irresistible, even with his smug little
grin.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You didn’t just happen on that flight,”
she reminded him. “You didn’t just happen to sit beside me. We didn’t just
happen to have some magical connection. It wasn’t true. It was all an
illusion.”

“No,” he said flatly. “That’s where
you’re wrong. I could have sat behind you, you know. I could have sat across
the aisle. My assignment was to make contact, nothing more. Establish a
rapport. Keep a watchful eye on the situation and anyone who might approach
you. I could have done that as a casual acquaintance. But one look in your
eyes, and I was a goner.” He reached out to touch her hair. The curls twined
around his fingers greedily, trapping his touch in a silken snare.

“I found myself plopping down right
beside you. The more I talked to you, the more I wanted to know about you. Not
because of the assignment, but because you were the most interesting and
intriguing woman I had met in a very long time.” His voice was now low and
thrilling as his fingers played in her hair. “I didn’t have to kiss you. I
didn’t intend to kiss you,” he admitted. “The Captain will have my hide for
getting personally involved, but I couldn’t help it. There’s just something
about you…” He gently pulled her in for a kiss. It was long and lingering, and
not nearly enough.

“How can you say there’s no magic?” he
whispered against her lips. “How else do you describe this crazy feeling? You
feel it, too, I know you do.” He pulled just far enough away so that his blue
eyes could challenge her to deny it.

He already knew her well enough to
detect a lie, so she didn’t bother with one. “Of course I feel it,” she
whispered. She rested her forehead - bruises, cuts and all - against his and
forced herself to think beyond her heart. “But right now we need a different
kind of magic. The kind that can get us off this mountain without being seen.”

Hardin was slow in turning loose.
“You’re right. But when we get out of this mess….” His husky promise sent a
delicious shiver of anticipation down her spine as he held her face close a
moment longer. Drawing a deep and unsteady breath, he finally set her away and
turned his mind to business. “Okay, so let’s find a solution.”

They discussed their plans for the
night, what would happen in different scenarios, what bags to grab if time was
of the essence when they switched vehicles, and, most importantly, what escape
route she should take if someone found her before Hardin returned.

After an hour of strategy, Hardin stood
up and stretched. Makenna couldn’t help but watch, fascinated, as his muscles
flexed and bowed. “I think we should lie down and try to take a nap. It’s going
to be a long night.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she sighed.
She struggled to her feet, gasping when his strong arms swooped beneath her and
he hefted her into the air.

“Hardin, put me down!” she cried,
swatting at his arm.

“These muscles aren’t just for looks,
you know,” he teased. He hadn’t missed her hungry gaze moments before.

“But-”

“But nothing.” Ignoring her protests, he
carried her through the door and deposited her at the entrance to the bathroom.
“I’ll give you a few minutes while I bring in the food.”

Makenna took a few extra minutes to
study her sad reflection in the mirror. The red was gone from her one eye, but
the other was still ringed with a darkening bruise. Her cheek was still a
little puffy where the scratch ran along her jawline, but most of the scrapes
and scratches looked better today. Makeup would cover most of them;
unfortunately, she wasn’t wearing any right now. Staring at her image, Makenna
was reminded of the little game she had played as a child. Back then, she had
murmured compliments to the girl in the mirror, noting how pretty she looked,
or how she liked her hair, or commenting on what she was wearing. There would
be none of those compliments today!

Hardin knocked lightly on the bathroom
door. “Coming,” she said, splashing water onto her face in hopes of giving her
pale skin some color. He pushed the door open in time to see her forlorn gaze
in the mirror.

Then her eyes tangled with Hardin’s, and
the sudden flame of desire she saw there took her breath away. In one long
stride he was at her side, scooping her up into his arms. This time she didn’t
even protest as he carried her to the bed and eased her down with utmost care,
his mouth covering hers.   

Mindful of her hurt leg and her many
scrapes and bruises, Hardin held himself above her, supporting his weight on
his knees and one elbow. The other hand wove a magical path over her skin. His
fingers slid down the length of her arm, climbed back up on the tender
underside. When his knuckles brushed against the side of her breast, she gave a
little whimper. Waiting for permission, his fingers hovered over the soft
mound. A deep, unsteady breath pushed the tender flesh up, into his palm. As
his fingers curled and gently squeezed, Makenna bit back a tiny groan of
pleasure.