obviously hadn’t seen her yet. They were pointing down at the water, waving their guns, yelling things she couldn’t quite make out. She looked back to the water again and flinched when something brushed her leg.
Come on, Archer . . .
He broke the surface a good ten yards out and gasped, a pained expression across his face.
“Dammit, Archer.” Relief rushed through her chest even though he didn’t deserve it. He looked like he was having trouble, so she swam out to him, grasped his arm, and helped pull him back toward the safety of the dock. “I thought you were fish food. That was the dumbest fucking idea you’ve ever come up with.”
“Worked, didn’t it?”
He hooked one arm around the pillar of the dock and paused to catch his breath. And that’s when she saw the blood running down his biceps. That panic formed all over again. “You’re hit?”
He glanced at his arm and then wrestled his way out of his shirt. More shaken than she wanted to admit, Eve helped free him from the wet garment, then tied the T-shirt around his arm to slow the blood loss. But her stomach rolled as red seeped into the cotton.
She swallowed hard and glanced up. The thugs had left the roof and were likely on their way down to the docks. Her brain switched to action mode. “We have to get out of this water.”
He nodded, his tanned chest rising and falling as he sucked back air and pointed toward what looked like a ladder. “There.”
She swam that direction and told herself she was a fool for being relieved he followed. He’d tied her up, drugged her, and then nearly gotten her killed with his Superman stunt. But instead of being pissed, all she could think about was the fact he’d saved her life. He could have left her tied to that chair in the warehouse when those men came in, but he hadn’t. Instead of offering her up to save his own ass, he’d put himself between her and danger. And he’d taken a bullet as a result.
Water sluiced off her body as she climbed onto the dock and ducked into the shadows of another warehouse, wishing for her gun. Don’t be stupid, Eve. Archer hadn’t saved her because he cared about her. He’d done it because he still wanted answers. Answers she couldn’t give him. Not if she wanted him to live.
They inched around the building, making their way toward the road that led to the Seattle waterfront. If they could get to the tourist area, they could blend in and find safety in numbers. These guys wouldn’t gun them down in broad daylight. At least she hoped they wouldn’t.
An engine roared somewhere behind them.
Archer grabbed her arm and jerked her back against his body into the shadows of the building. She gasped. Then his wet chest pressed against hers, and there was nothing but her dripping bra separating their skin.
His whispered “shh” mixed with the warmth of his breath drifting over her chilled flesh to heat her in ways she didn’t expect. She looked up into those familiar hazel eyes and couldn’t help but remember the hundreds of times she’d looked into his eyes when they’d been in Beirut together. Heat arced between their bodies. A heat she couldn’t help wonder if he felt as strongly as she did.
The vehicle sped through the parking lot, the sound of tires crunching over loose gravel echoing in the air. Long seconds passed before he wiped a hand down his face and nodded north. “We need to get into the city. They’re going to be looking for us. And then you have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”
Explaining. Right. Not if she could help it.
She looked past the shipping yard toward the Seattle waterfront beyond, just now coming alive with light, and tried to think clearly. But her head was too full of memories and missed opportunities and lies that had finally caught up with her. “If we can make it onto a ferry without being noticed, they won’t know where to follow.”
“The key word in that phrase is if . You’re not exactly dressed for Seattle
Come on, Archer . . .
He broke the surface a good ten yards out and gasped, a pained expression across his face.
“Dammit, Archer.” Relief rushed through her chest even though he didn’t deserve it. He looked like he was having trouble, so she swam out to him, grasped his arm, and helped pull him back toward the safety of the dock. “I thought you were fish food. That was the dumbest fucking idea you’ve ever come up with.”
“Worked, didn’t it?”
He hooked one arm around the pillar of the dock and paused to catch his breath. And that’s when she saw the blood running down his biceps. That panic formed all over again. “You’re hit?”
He glanced at his arm and then wrestled his way out of his shirt. More shaken than she wanted to admit, Eve helped free him from the wet garment, then tied the T-shirt around his arm to slow the blood loss. But her stomach rolled as red seeped into the cotton.
She swallowed hard and glanced up. The thugs had left the roof and were likely on their way down to the docks. Her brain switched to action mode. “We have to get out of this water.”
He nodded, his tanned chest rising and falling as he sucked back air and pointed toward what looked like a ladder. “There.”
She swam that direction and told herself she was a fool for being relieved he followed. He’d tied her up, drugged her, and then nearly gotten her killed with his Superman stunt. But instead of being pissed, all she could think about was the fact he’d saved her life. He could have left her tied to that chair in the warehouse when those men came in, but he hadn’t. Instead of offering her up to save his own ass, he’d put himself between her and danger. And he’d taken a bullet as a result.
Water sluiced off her body as she climbed onto the dock and ducked into the shadows of another warehouse, wishing for her gun. Don’t be stupid, Eve. Archer hadn’t saved her because he cared about her. He’d done it because he still wanted answers. Answers she couldn’t give him. Not if she wanted him to live.
They inched around the building, making their way toward the road that led to the Seattle waterfront. If they could get to the tourist area, they could blend in and find safety in numbers. These guys wouldn’t gun them down in broad daylight. At least she hoped they wouldn’t.
An engine roared somewhere behind them.
Archer grabbed her arm and jerked her back against his body into the shadows of the building. She gasped. Then his wet chest pressed against hers, and there was nothing but her dripping bra separating their skin.
His whispered “shh” mixed with the warmth of his breath drifting over her chilled flesh to heat her in ways she didn’t expect. She looked up into those familiar hazel eyes and couldn’t help but remember the hundreds of times she’d looked into his eyes when they’d been in Beirut together. Heat arced between their bodies. A heat she couldn’t help wonder if he felt as strongly as she did.
The vehicle sped through the parking lot, the sound of tires crunching over loose gravel echoing in the air. Long seconds passed before he wiped a hand down his face and nodded north. “We need to get into the city. They’re going to be looking for us. And then you have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”
Explaining. Right. Not if she could help it.
She looked past the shipping yard toward the Seattle waterfront beyond, just now coming alive with light, and tried to think clearly. But her head was too full of memories and missed opportunities and lies that had finally caught up with her. “If we can make it onto a ferry without being noticed, they won’t know where to follow.”
“The key word in that phrase is if . You’re not exactly dressed for Seattle
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