Page 28 of Ace
“But the car,” she yelled as the gharial broke rank, its unblinking, round yellow eyes focused on its human prey once more.
“I said run!”
Chapter Twelve
Never more certain that she was going to die, Savannah ran down the embankment and into the swamp to get past the still burning Camaro. Man, that fire was hot. She could feel it from where she splashed through the swamp. Were other alligators waiting to snap her feet or break her legs as she ran through their domain like a frightened goose? Possibly. But they’d have to be pretty damned quick to catch her as fast as she was treading water. Holy Mother, how she ran. She’d walk on that water if it meant living another day.
Out of the swamp. Down the gravel road that stretched to Sanctuary. Faster than fast. Her heart pounded and her lungs were on fire. Gran Mere’s sandals slapped and flapped against the soles of her feet as she flew. A half mile hadn’t sounded far away when she’d said it, but now that her life was on the line, she was sure she heard something running behind her...
The danger was real. Those alligators would kill her. They would drag her, kicking and screaming into the deepest part of the swamp. There they’d begin the death roll. She’d seen it in action. The sure knowledge of what happened when an alligator ate its prey added speed to her blistered feet. How it drowned its victim. How a hapless creature suffered from their wicked wounds inflicted by massively strong jaws. How alligators fought each other for the prize of fresh meat. How they ripped chunks off their bloated victims and swallowed them whole.
Run!
Yet even as frightened as she was, Savannah had never been more acutely aware that Keller wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Damn, he was a good shot. He’d hit those lizards’ eyeballs. He’d stood there brave and absolute, sure those gators were going to die. Not him and not her.
Run! Run! Run!
At last, Sanctuary’s heavy ten-foot-high chain-link gate came into view through the lush shrubbery where the swamp gave way to solid earth. Keller’s broad hand was suddenly between her shoulder blades. Thank God! But was he now planning to shove her into Sanctuary while he stayed outside and fought those lizards alone?Uh uh.
Dodging to her left, Savannah slapped the switch on the gate’s upright to open it and activate lockdown.
“Savannah,” Keller growled.
But yes, Secret Agent Man. She nodded at him, panting to draw in enough air and tasting blood fromrunning so hard. He didn’t know this switch was her failsafe in case any animals tried to escape. One of several switches located strategically throughout Sanctuary, it activated the gate to automatically close or open. She was no dummy.
This switch kept everyone inside from getting out. Frightened dogs often bolted from their kennels or crates. They ran when they couldn’t cope or when they were cornered, and she didn’t blame them. She’d run too after some of the things they’d suffered, so she’d installed extra precautions to save everything she rescued. Looked like it was going to rescue her now.
Keller’s anger dissipated once they were both inside Sanctuary and the gate swung shut behind them, then locked with a clang and a hiss. “Pneumatic locks?” he asked, his tone surprised and maybe a little—proud? Was that approval she detected in those honey-amber eyes? By heck, it was.
A ripple of pleasure skated up her spine as Savannah drew in her first full breath in a half mile. Dropping both hands to her knees while she sucked more relief, she scrunched her head into her shoulders, thrilled at this FBI agent’s off-handed compliment. “Yeah.”Pant. Pant. Pant.“Cool, huh?”
Keller stood there breathing just as hard, one pistol still in his right hand, the other holstered, and his magnificent chest expanding like a machine. What she wouldn’t give to run into those muscled arms and rest against that well-defined chest. To wrap her body around him and let her heart calm while she listened tohis heart pound. It seemed such a fair trade, her giving him comfort after he’d saved her life.
Even drenched in sweat with his back still dark from murky swamp water, Keller Boniface cut a magnificent sight. Able. That was the word for him. Refined and courteous, yet able to take on the world and whip its ass. Able to fight with a ferocity like no other, yet gentlemanly and kind to her deceased great grandmother. Savannah’s eyes watered at the mere thought of his genuine care. Okay, so tenderandable. That was Keller Boniface. And remote. He was still so much a mystery.
With an odd ache beneath her breastbone, Savannah forced her eyes off her handsome rescuer. Straightening, she gave him her back. Keller might not have the kind of sight she had, but he was a smart empath. And he was a man. After their near-death experience from which she was still recovering, he might actually want to hold her like he had back at the houseboat. He might want—maybe need—the feel of human touch. Savannah couldn’t let that happen. Her heart was already on the line, but he must never know what she was thinking or how foolish she was.
Yet her breath caught when he came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
She shook her head, still not facing him. “Just...” Confused. Hopeful, yet full of despair. Smart enough to not do something stupid, but wishing she could. “…cold and dirty. Come up to the house. I’ve got a shower, soap, and towels. Coffee too.”
Instead of stepping aside, Keller’s wide palms slipped smoothly down her biceps, sending waves of warmth and a tide of comfort throughout her body. He was doing it whether she wanted him to or not. Offering comfort. Absorbing her panic. Sharing his gift.
He didn’t pull her against him though, and that was smart. She’d burst into flames if he did. She’d burn, but she wasn’t yet sure that he’d burn with her. Above all else, Keller Boniface was a man in control. She just didn’t know why. It couldn’t be because of the color of her skin, could it? He didn’t seem to care one way or the other, and he’d only treated her like a lady.
Closing her eyes at the innocent sensual touch, Savannah longed to be in another place and time where blacks and whites were loved at first sight instead of labeled and segregated and held at arm’s length. Where different colored people were seen for who they were and what they contributed to the whole, instead of being judged by the biblically-challenged and condemned to hell because of the tone of their skin. Yes, the laws of the land proclaimed freedom for all, but this was still Louisiana. The Civil War with all its hard feeling, regrets, and unrealized expectations lived on in some of these backwater bayous. Prejudices died hard. She would know.
Holding still, she shivered as Keller’s hands slipped from her arms to the tuck of her waist. “Don’t ever disobey a direct order from me again,” he breathed huskily into her ear. “I told you to drive that car to Sanctuary and I meant it. You should have done what you were told back there.”
Striving to not fall apart at his touch, at the sheer power emanating from his much bigger, stronger frame, she whispered, “I couldn’t leave you.”
“I was armed, damn it. You weren’t.” Yet even as he hissed, his breath curled warm and sweet past her ear lobe and down her neck.
“But there were four of them, and…” And she could barely talk by then. Magnetic energy crackled around her and Keller, drawing them together like two lost halves of a whole.
“Not the gators, damn it. I meant the assholes in the truck. I told you to leave, but you—”
Savannah turned into Keller’s arms then, needing to see the answers to her questions in his golden eyes. “Are you mad at me? Why? I stayed there to help. I stood by you. I—”
