Alone now behind the cluster of bushes, she peered into the darkness, searching for trouble, her ears straining for any sound that might signal danger. Nicole sucked in a surprised breath as Constantine was suddenly behind her, no sound warning of his approach. Every time he touched her, awareness teased her nerve endings, taunting her with her inability to control its presence. She rotated around to face him, her thigh aligned with his, pressed close. Their eyes locked, the connection hitting her with lightning force, attraction sizzling around them despite the danger they faced.
But there was more than attraction that lured Nicole to Constantine at present. Crazy as it was, this stranger, a man who’d lied to her only a week before, offered comfort and security that she desperately needed right now.
“Not much farther,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper.
“Shouldn’t we call someone?” she asked, matching his low tone, wishing she hadn’t left her cell phone back at the cabin.
“No need. A rendezvous is set up with Flores in the event I run into trouble. A time and location not far from here. We just need to get underground and safe until then. Besides, we don’t know who we can trust, and any call could be monitored.”
“If I don’t show up tomorrow, they might do something crazy to delay the trial. I know you don’t want that.”
“What I want is to stay alive.” He pushed to his feet, staring down at her as he offered her his hand.
Nicole took a moment to stare up at the foreboding, but oh-so-sexy male, before slipping her palm into his. His cheeks were chiseled, his jaw strong, something in those dark eyes wary and lonely. He was a stranger who’d snuck past her guard in far too many ways, an undercover agent who oozed danger and sex, with no telling what kind of sordid past. Yet in just a week’s time, she’d put both her life, and her libido, in his hands.
Hands she hoped were as experienced at surviving in the wild as they were at giving pleasure.
Chapter Five
RAIN FELL SLOWLY, steadily, and seeped into Nicole’s clothes and cooled her skin as she followed Constantine through a heavily wooded area. Tree branches and bushes had to be shoved aside and dodged. For a stormy night, the sky was remarkably bright, the way a sky was lit before a tornado. Nicole didn’t want to think about that now. She focused on keeping pace with Constantine, pushing herself as hard as she could. That was until her foot hit a rock that bit through a sore spot on her sole. Pain rocketed up her shin, and to her complete dismay, her ankle twisted to the side.
Constantine grabbed her arm to steady her. Suddenly the deadly sound of a rattlesnake filled the air. “Don’t move, cariña,” he warned, his voice low, tight. “Don’t move.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered hoarsely, fear shooting adrenaline through her body and telling her to run. Somehow she stayed still. “Where is it?”
But he didn’t respond with words. With agility and speed, Constantine somehow pulled his gun and fired. Her body stiffened, ready for the snake’s strike if he missed.
Instead, she found herself engulfed in his strong arms, his hand sliding down the back of her head. “It’s over. It’s dead.”
Nicole blinked up at him as the words sank in, and then she abruptly whirled around to see the proof. Constantine shined his penlight so she could see the snake. She breathed calmly at the sight of the dead rattler, but it didn’t last, as his arms dropped away and he grabbed her hand, and told her, “We need to move. That gunshot just announced our location.” He had no sooner spoken the words than he tugged her into motion.
Her heart pounded in her ears; her adrenaline, still high from her snake encounter, now shot beyond her control. Constantine was relentless in the path before him, half dragging her, clearly compelled to get distance between them and where the gunshot had sounded.
Several branches snapped to their right, and Constantine stilled instantly, pulling Nicole down into the bushes. Nicole’s stomach churned. Oh, no. They’d been found.
Constantine motioned to other bushes that formed a circle and pulled her into its center. There was barely room for the two of them. Next, he retrieved the Wesson revolver again from his boot holster, where it had been secured while they were on the run. He pressed it into her palm and then slid his cheek against hers, his lips to her ear. “This is about staying alive. Don’t talk yourself out of pulling the trigger.” Leaning back, he searched her face, showing his in the process. A chill raced down her spine. Those warm, chocolate-brown eyes of his held fiery determination and strength; she could see he was willing to demand the same of her but he didn’t have to. She’d do anything to protect herself. She drew a breath and nodded her understanding. Satisfaction filled his gaze.