Clint didn’t know if she was thanking him for the fruit or his comment. When her tongue came out to moisten her lips, his eyes dropped. For a crazy moment, he wondered what kissing her would be like. Just the thought hardened his resolve not to let her get to him. “Let’s get moving, we’ve wasted enough time.”
When he propelled her forward, she didn’t complain. She munched contentedly on her apple until there was nothing left but the core. Clint saw her toss it in the bushes, knowing she could probably eat another one, just like he knew she’d never ask. She did request water once in a while though, and he made sure she had as much as she wanted. With the sun beating down on them, hot as it was, it wouldn’t take long for dehydration to set in, and that was a complication he didn’t need.
Time crept slowly by as they traveled quietly. Clint knew they’d have to pick up their pace soon. In spite of what he’d told Sarah, he knew Rodriguez was smart enough to cover all his bases. He probably had teams heading in all directions looking for them now. Moreover, they would definitely have an advantage. He didn’t doubt for a minute they’d be traveling in vehicles he and Sarah couldn’t hope to outrun.
“How you holding up angel?” he asked, casting a glance over his shoulder. His watch told him they’d been walking steady for three hours now, and she hadn’t griped once.
It seemed to take great effort for her to raise her eyes to his, and Clint swore the tiny ghost of a smile on her mouth was meant to reassure him. “This is like a walk in the park,” she said with humor.
He made a brief assessment of her condition, taking in her sweat-streaked face and damp, dirty clothes. Her hair, which she’d twisted into a thick braid, looked more brown than blonde. She was stumbling more than walking, and he knew she was exhausted. Yet he knew they had to keep going.
“Here.” He halted. “Have another drink.” He unclipped his canteen from where it hung on the outside of his duffel bag, popped the top, and handed it to her.
Sarah smiled gratefully, as she took it from him, and put it to her mouth. He watched her throat work as she swallowed, before surprising him by tipping the canteen over her face. He watched the cool water bathe her overheated flesh, washing the sweat and grime away until it met the obstacle of her shirt, soaking it down the front. As the material clung to her breasts, he was suddenly reminded of what she looked like in just her underwear. Wet underwear. He swung around and started to walk again.
That was a complication he could do without, too.
Wanting Sarah.
Only it was too late.