right, veering away from the wall of mountain.
The Continental crashed into her again, and the screech of metal grinding against metal was horrendous. The larger car refused to give ground, and the deafening high-pitched sound went on and on as she was forced inexorably closer to the mountain.
Panic-stricken, Erin glanced at Max. He was so close that he seemed to be in the car with her. His face was grim and set. As she watched, he wrenched his steering wheel hard to the left again. Erin's eyes widened.
In a flash of understanding she grasped his intent, and hope quickened within her. Instantly she stopped fighting him and angled the car into the face of the mountain.
The world was reduced to a cacophony of sickening sounds and terrifying flashes of unyielding rock. Glass shattered. Metal rent and crumpled. Just inches from Erin's face a wall of roughhewn stone scraped by with a banshee-like shriek, sending more sparks flying. On the other side, Max's car grated against the passenger door. Its squealing brakes added to the earsplitting din.
The little car rocked and bucked, shuddering with each jarring blow. Pitching mercilessly against her taut seat belt, Erin held on to the wheel for dear life.
Fear elongated time, playing out the nightmare in slow motion so that it seemed to go on forever. In reality, it was all over in seconds. The car had begun to slow from the moment of impact, and it ground to a halt within a number of yards, wedged between the mountain and the powerful bulk of Max's Continental.
Chapter 4
The sudden cessation of noise was deafening.
Dazed, Erin sat motionless, gripping the wheel. For a moment a strange feeling of unreality prevailed. There was nothing but utter quiet, absolute stillness.
Steam began to rise with a hiss from beneath the sprung hood of the Chevy. A second later a crumpled scrap of metal groaned and clattered to the pavement. The sounds shattered the magnified silence, and Erin closed her eyes and slumped over the wheel, her breath whooshing out of her.
Vaguely she felt the car rock, heard the screech of metal and the pop of loose gravel beneath tires as Max moved his car away from hers, but she was too weak to move.. .or care.
Then he was there, frantically prying open the compact's passenger door and reaching for her.
"Erin! Erin, are you hurt?"
Strong hands gripped her shoulders and eased her back against the seat. A callused palm tenderly brushed her hair away from her face. Blunt fingers smoothed down her neck and found the throbbing pulse at its base.
She heard his sigh of relief, felt it in the warm puff of moist breath that struck her face.
"Erin, can you hear me? Are you all right?"
The desperate entreaty brought her eyelids fluttering open. She blinked once. Twice. Max, his handsome face distorted with worry, hovered over her. "I...I think so," she managed in a quavering voice.
"No broken bones?" His hands skimmed over her, probing and testing with brisk efficiency even as he asked the question.
"No, I... I don't think so."
At her wrist he encountered a sticky wetness, and he lifted her arm to inspect it in the dim glow from the dashboard. "You're cut."
Erin glanced at the injury disinterestedly. Blood oozed from the three-inch gash. It seemed trivial—ridiculous, even—that such a close brush with death had resulted in nothing more than a minor scratch.
"It's not deep. I'll live." The profoundness of the off-hand statement struck her, and a giggle bubbled up in her throat. Another followed, and another, each longer, less controlled, until they ran together in a high-pitched trill that edged into hysteria. "I'll live. Oh...Max!" she choked around peals of laughter that quickly turned into sobs. "I... I'm going to live."
Max released her seat belt and hauled her up against him. "Yes. Yes, I know," he crooned against the top of her head. "You're going to be fine now. Just fine."
Erin wrapped her arms around his middle and clung to him as though he were
The Continental crashed into her again, and the screech of metal grinding against metal was horrendous. The larger car refused to give ground, and the deafening high-pitched sound went on and on as she was forced inexorably closer to the mountain.
Panic-stricken, Erin glanced at Max. He was so close that he seemed to be in the car with her. His face was grim and set. As she watched, he wrenched his steering wheel hard to the left again. Erin's eyes widened.
In a flash of understanding she grasped his intent, and hope quickened within her. Instantly she stopped fighting him and angled the car into the face of the mountain.
The world was reduced to a cacophony of sickening sounds and terrifying flashes of unyielding rock. Glass shattered. Metal rent and crumpled. Just inches from Erin's face a wall of roughhewn stone scraped by with a banshee-like shriek, sending more sparks flying. On the other side, Max's car grated against the passenger door. Its squealing brakes added to the earsplitting din.
The little car rocked and bucked, shuddering with each jarring blow. Pitching mercilessly against her taut seat belt, Erin held on to the wheel for dear life.
Fear elongated time, playing out the nightmare in slow motion so that it seemed to go on forever. In reality, it was all over in seconds. The car had begun to slow from the moment of impact, and it ground to a halt within a number of yards, wedged between the mountain and the powerful bulk of Max's Continental.
Chapter 4
The sudden cessation of noise was deafening.
Dazed, Erin sat motionless, gripping the wheel. For a moment a strange feeling of unreality prevailed. There was nothing but utter quiet, absolute stillness.
Steam began to rise with a hiss from beneath the sprung hood of the Chevy. A second later a crumpled scrap of metal groaned and clattered to the pavement. The sounds shattered the magnified silence, and Erin closed her eyes and slumped over the wheel, her breath whooshing out of her.
Vaguely she felt the car rock, heard the screech of metal and the pop of loose gravel beneath tires as Max moved his car away from hers, but she was too weak to move.. .or care.
Then he was there, frantically prying open the compact's passenger door and reaching for her.
"Erin! Erin, are you hurt?"
Strong hands gripped her shoulders and eased her back against the seat. A callused palm tenderly brushed her hair away from her face. Blunt fingers smoothed down her neck and found the throbbing pulse at its base.
She heard his sigh of relief, felt it in the warm puff of moist breath that struck her face.
"Erin, can you hear me? Are you all right?"
The desperate entreaty brought her eyelids fluttering open. She blinked once. Twice. Max, his handsome face distorted with worry, hovered over her. "I...I think so," she managed in a quavering voice.
"No broken bones?" His hands skimmed over her, probing and testing with brisk efficiency even as he asked the question.
"No, I... I don't think so."
At her wrist he encountered a sticky wetness, and he lifted her arm to inspect it in the dim glow from the dashboard. "You're cut."
Erin glanced at the injury disinterestedly. Blood oozed from the three-inch gash. It seemed trivial—ridiculous, even—that such a close brush with death had resulted in nothing more than a minor scratch.
"It's not deep. I'll live." The profoundness of the off-hand statement struck her, and a giggle bubbled up in her throat. Another followed, and another, each longer, less controlled, until they ran together in a high-pitched trill that edged into hysteria. "I'll live. Oh...Max!" she choked around peals of laughter that quickly turned into sobs. "I... I'm going to live."
Max released her seat belt and hauled her up against him. "Yes. Yes, I know," he crooned against the top of her head. "You're going to be fine now. Just fine."
Erin wrapped her arms around his middle and clung to him as though he were
Similar Books
