Eye of the Storm Page 8

  Her gaze softened, and his need to protect her overwhelmed him. The short time they’d spent together in the jungle showed him who she was, even if he didn’t remember their time together. The fierceness that blazed within her to take on and overcome challenges, her ease and skill with weaponry, and her concern were shown every time she took care of his injuries and worried over him—that all meant something. Their relationship hadn’t been a long one, apparently, but he felt himself falling for her all over again, easily seeing why he would have in the first place.

  If I remembered my past, would I have reason to challenge her? He pushed the contradictory thought away. Thinking like that was a fool’s game, not to be entertained. A soft touch of Mari’s hand against his chest brought him back to their conversation.

  “I know you’ll get us out of this place.” Quiet sincerity rang through her words.

  He pressed his lips to her cheek then turned back to move the skewered meat around on the fire. Soon, the mouthwatering smell of roasted pig sent his stomach into a cramping fit. He removed it and placed it on one of the leaves she had ready before placing the rest of the food over the fire. They let it cool for a few minutes before eating.

  “Mmm… I can’t remember the last time I ate this well. Wow.” Chewing more, she swallowed. “I mean, before you got better, I don’t think I had more than a few pieces of dried meat and one of your MREs. I was constantly starving, but too nauseous to really do anything about it.”

  The fierce frown he flashed her when she turned toward him caused her to falter and rush her speech. “Oh, it’s okay. I’m fine now.”

  “That’s not good, Mari. If something happens to me, you have to be able to go on, to hunt on your own. I need the assurance that you can and will. If you don’t know how to do something, I want to know now, so I can teach you.”

  She waved away his concern. “No, it’s not like that. I was worried about you and didn’t like leaving your side for too long. Hey, why don’t we make some of this meat into a stew for dinner tonight? I completely forgot I brought along a lightweight bowl. It’s small, but we can make two servings. That would taste so good with some bananas, and the rice-and-bean MRE from your pack.”

  He chuckled. “Sure. We can cube the last of the filets and prepare them to simmer, with a row of sticks acting as the grill over the pit.”

  “I’ll get started on it.” She left him to finish the rest of the cooked meat. Retrieving the knife she’d been using for cooking, she set to work at cubing the last of the wild pig. “Hey, Chris?”

  “Mm-hm?” he murmured around a mouthful.

  “You had another nightmare last night, or some sort of a dream.” She glanced up, and her eyes widened when she caught his intense stare. “You were talking to someone named Trev in your sleep.”

  He winced when she said “Trev,” but then his expression returned to a somber one. An avalanche of emotion slammed into him but without context—he had no idea why the name caused such an intense reaction. He could only shake his head in frustration. “No. I recognize that name like it’s my own, but I just…” His teeth snapped together as he clenched his jaw in frustration.

  “Don’t worry about it.” She flashed him a small smile. “I just thought I’d mention it. I’m sure it’ll come back to you.” Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Do you think he could have been your contact? Who you spoke with before joining the guerrillas?” Her eyes dashed to the task she worked on. It was as if she was worried about what she’d see in his eyes.

  “Mari, come here.” Still, she questioned his motives. It was confusing.

  She glared at him, dark emotions swirling in her eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered. “My hands are dirty.”

  “There is no way I’d join an outfit like that. You’ve just got to trust me. I don’t have any idea what would cause me to leave your side, but deep in my heart, I’m positive I’m not a part of them.”

  With a shrug, she mumbled an okay, then rose to go wash off her hands. The firm grip on her upper arm stopped her and gently turned her around. He tilted up her chin, and she met his sincere gaze. “It’s just a concern I have.”

  “Put it to rest. I’m here now with you. Focus on what we have together, right now. And what we’ll have in the future.” Because that’s all I’m able to do.

  She nodded before she slipped away to clean up. When she came back, she started the stew and left it to cook slowly over the embers. By the time dinner rolled around, they would have a hearty meal.

  The sky darkened, and clouds rolled in thick abandon. Some were dark, and some were a murky gray, but all told them rain would arrive soon.

  Dusting off her hands, she stood, only to be pulled back against his chest. He preferred her fire, and he wanted it to return. She relaxed against him and seemed to let her worries scatter to the hot wind that stirred the leaves around them.

  She reached a hand behind her and threaded her fingers through his hair at the nape. It’d grown a little, and it drove him crazy, but she liked it. With a gentle tug, she wiggled closer, and he complied by surrounding her with his arms, his presence, and his touch.

  Small kisses peppered the curve of her neck, and she tilted her head to the side to give him greater access. When he felt her tense, he stopped rather than have her pull away. He could tell by her actions that she wasn’t ready for more, and he didn’t really blame her.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His forehead dropped to hers, and he shifted the hold he had on her to her waist. He puffed hot air against her cheek. She slipped her arms around him, rose up on her toes, and buried her face in his neck.

  So much about her intrigued, amused, and pleased him. Something else had to be at play, because there was no way he could ever have left her.

  Mari

  Mari picked her way among a few broken twigs, jagged stones and pebbles, and a beetle inching over the soggy ground. Placing large banana leaves over the muddy bank, she sat down because she needed a few moments alone. He confused her, making her want things she hadn’t thought would be possible. They were living a lie, and the guilt ate at her. It’d been a stressful few days, weeks—months, really. Chris helped her with that more than she’d like to admit. The more time she spent with him, the more comfortable she’d become. She’d left him resting in their hideout, needing a few minutes to think without his distracting presence.

  She slipped off her boots, then her socks, before she rolled up the ends of her pants and dipped her toes in the slowly moving water. For a while, at least, the sky was clear. Several branches overhead helped to shield her from the brutal rays of the late-afternoon sun that peeked through the rolling rain clouds.

  “Be careful of the crocs.”

  She shrieked, jerking her feet out and back to the leaf she sat on, where they were temporarily safe. The chuckle behind her had her seeing red, and she leapt to her feet, ready to deliver a piece of her mind. “You think that’s funny?”

  He wore a wicked grin, and his shoulders shook with restrained laughter.

  Covering the ground between them in a few angry strides, she pounded her fist on his left shoulder, the only place she knew wasn’t bruised. When his hand covered hers, her gaze flew to his. Their eyes locked, and some of her irritation fled. His bright hazel eyes captured hers, and her heart rate increased—and it wasn’t from the scare he’d just delivered. Pulling her hand from his grasp, she took a step back.

  What is he doing to me? She frowned, unsure of her softening feelings toward the soldier she’d tied her life to—at least for the next unforeseeable time. Or until they crossed the border.

  “I hate crocs because they scare me out of my mind, with those huge, sharp teeth and the scaly skin.” She shuddered, and he reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry.” His grin slipped a notch. “I didn’t realize that would frighten you so much.” His hand skimmed over her thigh, and she sucked in a breath. When he pulled a knife from the sheath in her pants, her frown only d
eepened. “What are you doing?”

  “Target practice.” He winked at her and turned on semi-unsteady feet. His health had improved, but there were moments she knew his head injury caused him to weaken, the dizziness too great to contain.

  Over his shoulder, he glanced at her feet. “Put your boots back on. I don’t want you to injure the bottom of your feet.”

  She shrugged. He was right, and she retrieved her socks and boots. Bending, she slipped them back on, taking a moment longer to tie the laces. By the time she straightened, he’d set up a few makeshift targets with some flat pieces of bark and wood from the forest floor. Intrigued, she joined him, pulling another knife from its sleeve.

  About a half-inch-long piece of medical tape was in the center of each target. He flipped the knife he’d taken from her in a catch and release before he threw it at the farthest target. It happened faster than she could blink, and her mouth dropped open.

  “We can warm up a little first then make things interesting.” He winked, and her curiosity—and the stirrings of desire—grew.

  This man, and the things she was learning he could do... There was nothing hotter.

  They took turns, and with each one, her giddiness increased. It was fun. It was something she loved to do. Apparently, so did he, judging from the wide grin he wore.

  It was nice to have something in common, and it made her see possibilities she knew she shouldn’t really entertain. Since she was in the role she was, she allowed herself to go with it. But as she did, the guard around her heart slipped another notch, inviting Chris in.

  “Can you hit a moving target?” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he held her gaze.

  She nodded with determination, stomping down on her urge to laugh with sheer enjoyment. He tossed one of the targets in the air, and it soared high in a circular whirl. On an exhale, she let her knife fly. She hit the target dead center, grinning at him as it plummeted faster with the weight of the blade in the center.

  “Not bad.” Admiration flashed over his handsome face. “Try two.”

  In fast succession, he tossed two targets, one of them smaller than the other. She flung her knives, one after the next. Both hit home, but the second was slightly off-center. He jogged over to her and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek before he retrieved her knives. “Wait, let me throw them.” He paused, and she met him by the targets then took them from his hands.

  He turned so his back was to her. She was confused for half a second, and her pulse increased its pace as she realized what he meant to do. Trying not to make a sound, she hurled first one then the other target high.

  A slight scuffing was all she heard when she released the wood. He whirled around and, with lightning reflexes, struck both targets, in the air, dead center. Oh my God. She’d never witnessed anything hotter. Her kaleidoscope of emotions confused her, and she made an excuse to leave, saying she needed to go to the bathroom. Afterwards, she reentered their small space with care. Chris sat with his back to the tree and his eyes closed, and she took the reprieve given to her by his impromptu nap to go back to sitting by the river, where she mulled over her growing feelings for him.

  Chapter 10

  Chris

  Chris stood and left Mari’s side. She’d been quiet, which was unusual for her. For most of the day she’d been at the water’s edge, seemingly lost in thought. Tilting his head, he skimmed the back of her form as she sat on the bank of the river, with the cool water running over her toes. His fingers twitched—he wanted to hold her and to brush the strands of hair that he knew drove her crazy from her face. But there were things to take care of, and he wanted to be ready to leave quickly, should the need arise. He didn’t doubt that it would.

  We need to move out. Very soon.

  Several days had passed since they were reunited. Chris stirred the embers, making sure the fire from their dinner was out, then lifted the clump of earth to cover their fire pit so it looked as if nothing was there. As he knelt, he checked on her again. Her shoulders slumped forward, and a twinge of worry hit him. “You alright?”

  Over her shoulder, she glanced at him, a ready smile in place. “Yeah, just tired. Need help?”

  He didn’t buy it. “Nah, I’ve got this.”

  She seemed to get more and more restless the longer they remained in one spot. She’d done a lot for him, standing by his side while he was injured, and for that he would give her the benefit of the doubt regarding their marriage.

  He stretched, pulling his arms up over his head. Most of his symptoms had diminished, and the wound on his head had scabbed over. He needed to talk to her about heading out.

  Chris paused when a succession of plops along the water disturbed the cadence of the sounds in their small space. “What are you doing? Skipping rocks?”

  Her throaty laugh mingled with the chatter of two bickering birds in a nearby tree. “If you call tossing pebbles into the river skipping rocks, then sure.”

  With a chuckle, he gripped a leafy branch and brushed away the majority of their footprints. Mari seemed content to sit where she was, and he didn’t mind—he felt compelled to check and double check everything anyway. Inside their makeshift home, he made sure their belongings were always packed up in their bags, so they could flee at a moment’s notice.

  So far, everything had gone smoothly. No longer did he have issues with light causing dizziness or nausea. The concussion wasn’t entirely gone, nor was the bruising, but the week’s rest had done wonders for him—and for them, too. Each day brought them a little closer together.

  Now, he could tell she was itching to leave. She could barely contain her desire to do so. He wanted to go, too, but they’d held out because the stronger he was, the safer they would be.

  “Hey, how long does it take to throw some dirt over our fire?” she teased.

  A grin stretched across his mouth. He had been lost in thought. “Point taken.” Scrutinizing her stiff posture and too-bright smile, he narrowed in on her red, puffy eyes. Is she upset? Have I done something, or is the situation taking a toll?

  Her gaze found his, and she rolled her eyes, so he let it go. He finished banking the fire then went over and sat beside her. His arm brushed against hers, sending tingles of awareness through him where they touched.

  “This sounds bad,” she said, “considering that we’re safe and actually have food to eat from what you’ve caught, but I’m sick of fish. The wild pig was fantastic. Wish we could find some more of that.”

  “You have no idea how good we have it. I’ve gone on much less for a lot longer. This is paradise.”

  She sat up straighter, her breath hitching. There was a slight pucker to her lips. “You remember?”

  Is she worried that I remember something? A dark cloud swept over his face. “No.” Several beats passed before a look of pain flashed across his face and drew his features taut. “I don’t know where that came from. I couldn’t tell you where or what that statement was about.”

  She ran her hand along his biceps, her own features visibly relaxing. “It probably came to you because you weren’t trying.”

  Chris dropped his head into his hands, overwhelmed by the many things that plagued him.

  “Stop putting so much pressure on yourself. I know what you’re doing, and it’ll only cause pain.” She brushed her fingers along his jaw.

  When her hand dropped away, he thrust his fingers through his hair before he turned her way, frustrated and not wanting her to see the conflicting desire her simple touch evoked—one that brought about the stirrings of a memory that flashed deep within him. The intensity of both the present and past burned bright before his brain extinguished the elusive information. With it went the possibility of learning more.

  Unwilling to dwell on what he couldn’t access, he brushed a finger along the curve of her cheek. This woman. Her body reacted to his energy, softening as she pressed against him, which she often did. When her gaze dropped to his lips, he leaned close, wanting her.

  L
eaves rustled, and Chris jerked away. Before Mari had time to react, he was on his feet, racing toward the noise. Shit.

  They’d been discovered.

  It wasn’t an animal, but a flash of tan camouflage peeking through the foliage. Separated by a few trees that were spaced a good distance apart, the guy hadn’t noticed him just yet. Chris leapt through the dense coverage and surprised the threat with a fist to his face.

  The soldier crashed to the ground, and Chris straddled him, raining punches onto his face. The satisfying crunch as he broke the guy’s nose, and the spray of blood that arced from it, only fueled him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught another soldier quickly closing the distance between them. He saw a flash of metal—the guy’s gun was trained on him. Dammit! He knew better. The thought of these guys anywhere near Mari had spurred his base instincts. He shifted enough to pull his gun out as he heard footsteps stomping near.

  Mari. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her yank the gun she kept on her free while she ran toward him. On the ground, Chris eased back from the unconscious man and aimed to shoot the new guy first.

  Time slowed as fear for her crawled through him. The other guerrilla’s strides lengthened. His pinched eyes stopped on Mari, and Chris’s heart leapt in his throat. Determination tensed Mari’s jaw. Her focus was locked on the soldier. He’d die. Chris would make sure of it, and he would kill the man before Mari was hurt.

  Panic painted Mari’s features pale. She locked her arms out in front of her, and her finger tensed on the trigger. Pounding feet slapped the ground as the guy raced their way. Shots rang out, and Chris dropped to the side, partially shielded from the man he’d beaten. Bullets whizzed by his head.

  At the flash of tan and green clearing two trees, Mari shifted and got off two shots at the same time Chris did. The loud pops echoed through the forest. The man dropped first to his knees, then flat on his face.