Page 11 of No Escape

Chapter Four

It seemed a long time passed before Sarah finally heard Clint behind her. Not that she’d been worried—she knew he hadn’t gone to the trouble of rescuing her to turn her loose in the jungle by herself. She had no idea where she was going, and for all she knew, she could be leading them right back to Rodriguez. Thank heavens the full moon at least offered some form of light, but not enough as her next step landed in icy cold water. She let out a squeal of surprise and backed up at the same time.

Clint was closer than she thought. His hands fell upon her hips to keep from bumping her back into the water. “Didn’t you hear the sound of running water?”

She jerked out from under his hands, ignoring his arrogant chuckle. “Apparently not,” she said, deciding not to waste a scowl she knew he couldn’t possibly see. The man positively rubbed her the wrong way. What’s more, he seemed to be taking delight in it. “Why don’t you lead the way for a while,” she suggested in a sugarcoated voice. Maybe she’d get lucky and he’d step off a cliff, or something.

She crossed her arms and waited, surprised when he took a step into the same stream. She automatically reached out, to stop him. “What are you doing?” Hard muscles flexed beneath Sarah’s fingers, revealing the strength in his sinewy arms. She overlooked the spark of awareness touching him produced. That was a complication she didn’t need.

He could have easily pulled away and kept going, but he paused instead to look down at her. His voice laced with amusement, at her expense. “I’m crossing over.”

“I can see that.” She became extremely conscious of his virile appeal and the way his warm, solid flesh felt beneath her hand. “But why?”

Even in the darkness, Sarah could make out that he was grinning at her. To make matters worse, the crooked shape of his firm mouth was ultra-sexy. “To get to the other side, angel,” he said, in a tone one might use on a five year old, before pulling away.

She watched his dark outline as he walked through the flowing water as easily as if parading across smooth pavement. His steps were sure and steady, and it probably didn’t hurt that he at least was wearing boots. Glancing down at her inadequate sneakers, she fought the urge to take one off and toss it at his muscular backside. With her luck, it would float away with the current.

Releasing a sigh of resignation, she unwillingly stepped into the water. It didn’t take long before she realized he’d only made it seem easy. Why did he make everything look so simple while making her feel so inadequate? She had to struggle to find every foothold, her movements awkward and clumsy as she followed at a snail’s pace. In the civilized world, she was a self-confident woman, not afraid to go after what she wanted. She made decisions for herself and lived with the consequences.

Out here she was forced to put her life into the hands of a macho man because she was completely out of her realm. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was taking advantage of her incompetence. What added to the impossible situation was that Sarah found herself attracted to his alpha male charisma and not reacting to it very well.

She shot daggers into his retreating back, wishing that just once he’d falter or slip on the slimy rocks making up the bottom of the creek. Like she was doing now. His comment about being good at everything came to mind and only made her dislike him even more. Because it made her wonder about things she shouldn’t.

She started to slip, and cried out softly, managing to regain her balance before actually hitting the water. For a moment, she felt as if she was on a high wire, balancing her weight before falling. She strained to see through the shimmering depths to make sure she was on safe ground again, swearing she saw something else beneath the water. Something wiggling away.

She froze.

“Clint?”

“What?”

“There couldn’t be any snakes in this water, could there?” Her skin was already crawling with the thought. Snakes rated right at the top of her list of things she was definitely afraid of.

“Why? Do you see any?” He turned from the muddy bank he’d just stepped on; his harsh tone implying it was a definite possibility. “All I need is for you to get bitten by a fucking snake.”

“Damn you!” Sarah’s heart began to race, certain now that she’d seen one slithering in the water. Not thinking about the consequences, she took off in a panic-stricken run, slipping and sliding all over the place. There was nothing graceful about her movements. Getting as far away from the serpent as fast as she could was uppermost on her mind.

He wouldn’t have to worry about her getting snake bit, she was going to slip and break her neck first. As she stepped onto the muddy, slimy bank, her leg shot out from under her, propelling her right into him. His arms came out to catch her, the force of her fall catching him off guard. Suddenly, they were both crashing to the ground. He hit it with a grunt, his body cushioning the fall for her.

For the second time that day, Sarah was sprawled on top of him. She began to wiggle like an eel out of water, aware of the intimacy of their situation but she didn’t care.

“Just what the fuck are you doing?” Clint’s hands went to her waist as if to push her off. “Stop your damn wiggling,” he groaned.

Sarah ignored the deceptive calm in his voice. Too busy making sure she wasn’t lying in any of the sludge surrounding them, which meant remaining on top of him. She couldn’t help noticing everything about him was as hard as granite.

“I don’t want to get mud on me. Or snakes, or bugs, or anything else equally horrible,” she explained. Did any woman? Surely, he understood that.

“You don’t?” his hard tone was filled with disbelief. “Are you for real? You expect to trek for three days across an island and come out smelling like a rose?” His snort reminded her of an angry bull. “Not likely, angel.” In one swift movement, Clint reversed their positions, putting Sarah on the bottom. “You’re going to get more than a little mud on you.” She cried in outrage but he ignored her, grinding his body into hers. “I want to make sure you’re as covered in mud as I am.”

Clint took hold of both her wrists in one hand, and using his other, grabbed up fistfuls of mud. He ran it beneath her collar and at the opening where her shirt rode up her waist. The more his weight bore her into the ground, the more it filled every nook and cranny.

Sarah felt every masculine inch against her. “Damn you!” Struggling against him was useless. “Get off me!” She arched her body in an effort to throw him off. He thrust against her to keep her in place. “You’ve proven your point asshole, I’m dirty enough!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Clint pinned both her arms on either side of her head, making sure they were flat upon the muddy ground. He smiled down at her like a hungry wolf. “They say mud is good for the skin,” he commented outrageously. “Maybe I should strip you so you can fully benefit from the free spa treatment.”

Sarah could see the white of his teeth. “You do and it will be the last thing you ever do!” she promised, her voice tight. “Short of killing you, there are a number of ways I can think of to get even. Now get off me!”

On top of those thoughts, she was also wrestling with her own emotions. She couldn’t believe he was actually turning her on. Feelings left dormant were surfacing at a frightening speed, making her aware of her long-term celibacy. Feeling Clint’s hard cock jump against her, she unwillingly closed her eyes for just a moment, savoring the heady experience. Thankful he couldn’t possibly know what he was doing to her. Could he?

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