“We’re both dripping all over the floor. I should have been the one to tell you to get your clothes off.” She indicated the single door leading to another room. The cabin was small but designed to meet every need with its small kitchen, bedroom and living quarters all sharing the same s
pace. “There’s the bathroom.”
Draden’s eyebrow shot up. “Indoor plumbing?” He was reacting to her. The woman was sexy, lethal and very confident. The sound of her laughter was enticing. Intriguing. It played along his nerve endings and sent an electrical current running through his bloodstream. He was on the verge of death and he’d never felt more alive.
“And hot water. Go take a shower, but hurry.”
He opened his mouth to protest. He wanted her to take the shower first. Before he could say a word, she shook her head.
“Don’t say it’s because I’m a girl. You’ve got a nasty wound on your head. If a miracle happens and we survive the virus, you don’t want to die of a simple infection. Just hurry.”
Could she be any more wonderful? He flashed a cocky grin. “I was going to suggest we conserve hot water and shower together.”
“I’ll just bet you were.” She pointed to the closed door.
He forced himself to walk across the small room, looking sulky. Who knew the ridiculous expressions and poses from his modeling days would come in handy? They made her laugh, and for him, that was what counted.
The water felt wonderful. It only took a few minutes to heat up and Draden didn’t care how it was done, only that he had access to it. Cold didn’t bother him so if he’d had to take a cold shower, he would have been okay with it, but he wanted time to consider what to do while he could. Right now, his brain was working, spitting out his chances—and hers—over and over. He needed to stop the offending loop and start working on the problem.
Shylah had obviously been tracking the madmen who had decided to start a pandemic for their own personal reasons and she probably knew more than she realized—or was telling him. After her shower, he would question her, get as many facts as possible so they had a shot at surviving the virus. It was a slim chance, but there was one. If anything, he needed to save her. She was one in a million, and who knew he would find her here in the rain forest?
He didn’t have clean clothes with him, so he wrapped himself in a towel and stepped out with a grin on his face, knowing she appreciated his body far more than he did. The smile faded when he saw her wrapped in a towel. She had long legs. Beautiful legs. Her hair was out of its braid and she sent him a quick shy smile before stepping around him to enter the shower. He’d been as brief as possible in order to save the hot water for her, but after catching that little glimpse, he decided if they were going to be staying, they should share that shower.
I’m reading your thoughts.
Her laughter teased his senses, something that had never happened before, and left him a little uncomfortable. She was turning the tables on him, staying connected.
I guess it’s a two-way street.
Still—she was sober again—I’d prefer some privacy. I need to fall apart, just a little bit. It isn’t that I mind knowing I’m going to die; it’s the how. I saw the results of this virus and it wasn’t pretty.
Her honesty was killing him. I understand. He did. And he didn’t have that much hope to give her. He was doing his best not to think too hard on what was to come.
He made certain their minds were totally apart before he allowed himself to contemplate what they were facing. He was definitely infected. That dart had been all about killing him and those he came into contact with. He had to find out if the terrorists had more of the virus. That meant he couldn’t take his peony with him. The things he might have to do to get that information weren’t for her. She had enough to contend with.
He stood at the window, staring out into the forest, contemplating the fact that he might have to kill Shylah Cosmos. He liked her. Most people, man or woman, would have been freaking out, knowing they were exposed to the virus. Most would have tried running to civilization and hospitals in the hopes they could be saved. Had she done that, he would have killed her. Once she’d opened a pathway between their two minds, he’d deliberately kept it open, needing to know her thoughts. If she planned to run, he had to know.
He’d considered killing her when he first realized she had performed CPR on him, when he saw the realization on her face that she was most likely infected. She hadn’t panicked the way he’d expected. It had thrown her, but she’d remained clearheaded. She’d worked with him in the river against their common enemy. She thought herself squeamish, but even when the dead man had stared at her, she hadn’t bailed. She’d forced herself to stay still, not giving away their position.
Yeah. He liked her. He could even admit he was attracted to her. He’d never had any shortage of women, but that was all physical. A release. Nothing more. He found it ironic that when he was going to die, he met a woman. Maybe the woman. She was smart. Funny. Brave. And damned good-looking. She laughed at herself. In the middle of the worst nightmare possible, she laughed at herself.
And made him laugh too.
Draden rinsed out his clothes and hung them on the porch to dry. It was hot enough that, despite the humidity, it shouldn’t take too long. The ranger had left a change of clothes, but they were too small. There was no way to improvise. His head hurt like a mother, so he sat on the mattress and laid his head against the wall, closing his eyes. Just for a minute.
He had to be prepared to take care of Shylah. She was just now allowing herself to fully realize the implications of being infected. If she tried to run … He shut down the possibility of that. He knew, if she was suffering, he would have no problem ending her life, but to kill her because she was afraid … Maybe there was another way, he just had to think of it.
“Draden.”
That voice. Soft. Gentle. Magical. She had a magical voice. He tried to answer her, but his head pounded, trying to drown out the music of her voice.
“Draden. I’m going to wash that cut again and butterfly stitch it. It’s nasty and needs to be taken care of. Please don’t hit me or anything.”
He forced his lashes to lift. She was close. Her face right next to his. Her mouth. That perfect bow of a mouth. Full lips. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose. Long lashes and dark chocolate eyes. He caught her hand before she touched his face, shaking his head.
“Wait. We don’t know for certain if you’re infected. I hate that you saved my life and because of that you’re at risk. You should wear a mask. You can’t leave, but maybe if we’re careful, we can reduce the risk to you.” He wasn’t giving her the best of chances, but again, there was a possibility. Unless Trap and Wyatt could come up with something, she was as good as dead.
She smiled at him, sitting on the edge of the bed looking like a million dollars. “This was my choice, Draden. You aren’t responsible. I didn’t have to dive into that river after you. The MSS was on your tail and I still interfered. I blew my cover by going in after you. I could have died right then from a bullet.”
“Shylah, there’s a big difference between taking a bullet and being infected with a hemorrhagic virus.”
She shrugged. “Whitney plants viruses in us to force us to return home. The three virologists who cooked up this crap worked for him, created viruses aimed at killing us if we ‘defected.’ I knew sooner or later I wouldn’t return, and I’d die from whatever they put in me. According to Whitney, we would die a very painful and horrible death, yet I always knew I would choose to live free for a while, even if it was only for a couple of weeks, and I’d die that painful and horrible death. So don’t kick yourself too hard. None of this is on you.”
“I could fall in love with you.” He meant it to sound humorous, but it was too close to the truth. She refused to play the victim. His entire life had been one serious fucked-up fiasco. Now, at the end of it, he’d finally met a woman he admired.
“Since no one’s ever fallen in love with me, I think now’s a good time. I can go out knowing someone thought I was worth that.”
She turned her head away from him, so he couldn’t see her expression, but her tone caught at his heart. He hadn’t known he had a heart, but it was evident by the way it ached for her th
at it was there somewhere. She already had a small tray ready with the tape and gauze and she turned back, looking at the wound, not at him. Her hands were gentle as she smeared on antibiotic ointment and then began to close the laceration.
“You’ve got quite a lump here.”
“Do you get afraid coming to a place like this on your own?” He’d been curious to know. She seemed confident. Very self-sufficient. He’d never minded being on his own and it seemed like she was the same.
“I live in a prison,” Shylah reminded. “It might resemble a military barracks, but my entire life has been in one of Whitney’s compounds. We moved occasionally, but in the end, it was always the same no matter where we were. Getting out feels like freedom. At first, when he split us up, it was a little nerve-wracking to go out on my own, but I got used to it.”
She smoothed the pad of her finger around the injury. “All done. I’ll fix us something to eat and then you should get some sleep. You have to be exhausted.” She got up and washed her hands. His heart sank knowing that regular soap and water wasn’t going to help if the virus was transmitted via blood or from Shylah breathing for him.
“You know where the lab they used is?”
“Yes. I can show it to you. You’ll be able to see it from the roof of this cabin. That’s why I was so excited to find a ranger cabin here. They put their makeshift lab where they did because it gave them access to the Internet via satellite. Don’t get too excited. They had already developed the virus in the laboratory Whitney supplied for them. Whitney became aware of what they were doing, and they had to make a run for it.”
He nearly came up off the bed. He could communicate with Trap and Wyatt directly. “I want you to show me their lab.” He knew Joe would never abandon him and sooner or later a satellite would be put in place for him to communicate, but if there was one already there, he needed to speed things up. The faster the military—and Trap and Wyatt—had data, the more the odds lengthened in their favor.
“Are you going in your towel? Don’t be crazy, Draden, you’re going to have to pace yourself. You really are injured. I’ll fix some food, and then you rest. Your clothes will be dry, and we can go. Give it a couple of hours.”