He cleared his throat to cover the groan that threatened and reached out to lend a hand, jerking the top down with more force than was needed.
“Thanks.” Her voice sounded tighter than the shirt.
He strode past her without a word, his purpose finally clear in his mind. Let her get the shots she needed and get the hell out of there. Let her go back to her life and he would go back to his, and let another nine years of somewhat Kyndal-free thoughts begin. Then he’d get some work done this afternoon on that new case.
He heard her scurrying to keep up, so he slowed his pace to accommodate her shorter legs. He ducked through one last passage and found the opening he had been looking for.
Shutting the light off threw the room into utter darkness. Kyndal stumbled hard against him with a small cry of alarm.
“Shhh,” he warned, mentally chiding himself for not stopping before they got this close.
“What is it?” A note of fear edged her whisper.
He found her face with his hands and covered her mouth lightly as a warning. Leaning in close, his lips brushed the edge of her ear. “Shhh.”
She shivered, a spontaneous and involuntary response, and he smiled at the confirmation that he could still do that to her. A flick of the tongue against her ear would send her into sexual overdrive. Or at least it used to.
In spite of their ideologies—and what he’d said yesterday—she really hadn’t changed that much. Neither of them had. Which made being here together even more threatening.
He nudged away the thought, pronouncing the words in a barely audible whisper, careful to keep his tongue safely in the confines of his mouth. “Bats. Lots of them.”
Her quick intake of breath sucked his hand closer.
“They completely cover the ceiling on the other side of this opening.” He removed his hand from her mouth but slid it on around into her hair to keep her close as he explained.
“Sometimes they stay where they are, but I’ve had them fly. I don’t know what determines their actions, whether it’s noise or movement or what. But I do know we don’t want to be standing in this opening when they come through.”
Her hair lay soft on the back of his fingers while her breath scampered down his neck—just like he’d imagined all last night. And all this morning.
* * *
BATS IN FLIGHT? THE POSSIBILITY of a shot with bats in flight? Chance’s breath playing softly around her ear and neck? Which experience was making her heart beat so erratically?
Until yesterday, it had been almost two years since she’d had anyone’s breath around her ear, but this was no time to let a physical reaction get the best of her. Chance Brennan would never get the best of her again. She tucked her mouth in close to his ear, keeping her voice controlled. “I’ll need some lighting to get it right. That’ll be your job. I’ll give you a lamp, and show you where to turn it on. When I give the signal, flip it to High. But I want to be inside that room.”
“Hold on to my waistband.” His voice froze at a flutter from the next room. They stood paralyzed, barely daring to breathe. When silence returned, he whispered again. “We’ll move slowly through the door, down the right-hand wall. Be careful of your step. One stumble and they’re on top of us.” He hesitated. “Sorry. I’m being overly dramatic. Don’t be afraid. If they come this way, drop to the floor and cover. Now get your camera and the lamp out. We’ll leave the bags here.”
Kyndal eased the zipper on her bag open and brought out the lamp. Wordlessly, she took Chance’s hand and guided it to the switch, mimicking how to push the switch to the on position. She pulled the camera gingerly from the bag, looped the strap over her neck and shoulder. Her hand groped around Chance’s waist until she was satisfied with the hold, then she gave his arm a quick squeeze to indicate she was ready.
They moved soundlessly through the opening.
The fecal smell, which had been a faint, musty scent in the previous room, now assaulted her nasal passages with a putrid blend of ammonia and sulfur that set off her gag reflex. She swallowed repeatedly, trying not to think about the toxic spores attaching themselves to her esophagus and the gooey guano clinging to her boots.