Show No Fear - By Marliss Melton Page 0,42

approaching the water with his clothes on.

“No,” she answered. She didn’t want to talk to him, to explain what was wrong with her. She’d lost it. That was it.

“Join me,” he urged, “I want to show you something.” He flicked a look at David who stood with his back to the trees, hands in his pocket, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“No, I’m fine,” she insisted, afraid he would pull the only thread that kept her from unraveling. “Go in without me.”

She should have guessed what he intended when he approached with his eyes averted. He snatched her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and ran into the water with her. Her startled screech of disapproval came too late.

They landed in the frigid water with a splash! The chill sobered Lucy from her daze. Furious that he’d physically coerced her, she went to strangle him.

But he easily deflected her hands. Seizing her wrists, he locked them behind her back and pulled her into what was no doubt meant to be a comforting embrace.

No! Lucy panicked. Not tenderness! Not again.

She screamed at him under the water, a hoarse, bubbly roar that earned her immediate freedom.

Pushing to the surface, she gulped down air while swallowing back a sob. Keeping her stricken face averted, she swam to shore to anchor herself on a rock.

Get it together, Luce! What the hell is wrong with you?

She heard Gus break the surface behind her. She could sense him treading water thoughtfully, keeping his distance.

The mineral scent of stone filled her nostrils. Just breathe, she told herself. This storm, like the occasional bouts of depression she’d suffered through the years, would pass. She would land on her feet. She would pull it together. She just needed more time.

“Señor,” called David unexpectedly. “I am going downstream to look for a special tree bark that will help with the welts,” he explained.

David must have sensed the tension between them. Despite Marquez’s orders, he was leaving them to hash it out. Oh, no. Not today. Lucy started climbing out. She would rather just forget about it.

Gus caught her by the pant leg. “Wait, I want to show you something,” he insisted, repeating what he’d said earlier.

Streaming water onto the rock, Lucy hesitated. Maybe he just wanted to update her on his call to the JIC. After all, it had been important enough for him to risk his life to make it. “Show me what?” she demanded, slipping back into the pool.

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward the wall of water dimpling the surface in front of them.

“Hold your breath,” he cautioned as he hauled her through it.

Water pounded briefly on their heads. In the next instant, she was treading water in a tranquil shelter, a wall of water on one side, mossy granite on the other. Bluish light flickered on Gus’s face as he awaited her reaction.

“I didn’t know this was here,” she admitted, her strained voice echoing in the natural enclosure.

Clasping a ledge with one hand, he pulled her slowly, cautiously against him.

She stiffened, marshalling the emotions swirling inside of her, overlaid by physical awareness as he slipped a leg between her thighs. Even with his head swollen and his face disfigured his eyes drew her. She clasped his shoulders, loving the rock-hard feel of them beneath her hands.

“I should kick your butt,” she growled at him, clinging on to her anger to keep from dissolving into tears. “You know you could’ve died in that damn shed.”

“I know. And trust me, I’m sorry. But I think I broke the code, and I wanted to tell the JIC.”

She blinked. “You broke the code?”

“I think so.” He explained that the letters in the names possibly spelled out the camps’ global positioning.

“You’re a freaking genius!” she praised him.

“Yeah, right. If I was that smart I would’ve figured it out yesterday, and the JIC would’ve had the Predator in position, analyzing today’s transmission with the hostages.”

“It was probably up there. Give yourself a break. We’ve only been here a few days,” she reasoned.

He sent her a grave, searching look. “I’m not the one who’s hard on myself, Luce,” he countered gently.

Emotion gripped her by the throat. She cast her eyes about, but there was no getting out of this.

“What’s on your mind?” he prompted patiently.

She drew a deep breath. “I hate it when people die before they’re supposed to,” she admitted quickly, managing to guard her composure.

With a sigh of understanding, he lowered his forehead to hers. “Yeah, me, too,” he admitted sympathetically. “I wouldn’t