Mary Elise laughed, tension easing at least a bit. Her hand snuck up to play with the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. Yeah, she knew the proposal would come once their clothes lay in a pile by their sweaty, sated bodies. But he understood her enough to realize she couldn't hear those words yet.
And in that moment she fell a little in love with Danny after all.
Daniel scooped up sleeping Mary Elise and kicked the car door closed. Softly. Keeping his motions quiet, steady, although Mary Elise slept like the dead.
Dead.Not his favorite word today. Pine straw muffled the thud of his boots toward the rectangular cabin—a shot-gun-style house, one room deep, long and thin. Nowhere for anyone to hide inside.
He hitched his hold on her, his survival vest and belt dangling from the crook of his arm. He'd unload the rest of the gear once he had her inside, but not a chance would he let his gun out of his reach.
His eyes scanned, assessing for vulnerability with each step closer to the clapboard fishing retreat on stilts. He would have to put trip wires around the open underway to stop anyone from lurking beneath.
Shallow tides bordered the house on three sides, rotting marsh grass emitting a methane scent into the air. At least they would have prior warning of "visitors" on those three fronts from the water.
A single road in. Two minor paths, Manageable to defend with traps positioned to disable intruders.
Daniel ducked to avoid the drape of Spanish moss trailing from the limbs of an ancient oak, sidestepped a hammock blowing in the salty breeze.
What a haven this would be any other time, with its uninterrupted view of the water, dock stretching into the reedy surf rippling out into the main ocean way. Max had chosen his retreat well for peace … and safety.
Thudding up the wooden steps, Daniel shifted Mary Elise in his arms, the late-afternoon sun casting pasty shadows across the hollows in her cheeks. He cursed Kent McRae for at least the fiftieth time. Bending at the knees, Daniel flipped open the metal box by the door and punched in the security code he'd memorized from Max, before opening the dead bolt.
She could talk all damned day about how she would be fine, and that didn't change the fact that she should be putting her feet up until her medicines took effect.
Daniel toed open the door and stepped inside the rustic one-room cabin with nothing more than a few pieces of sparse furniture and a walk-in closet bathroom/shower stall. A man's dream retreat. And the least romantic getaway he could think of to offer a woman in need of pampering and R&R.
If he even knew what to do for her in the first place.
Kathleen Bennett and her damn rule book. Screw patient confidentiality. The best she'd given him was directions to check out the Internet, since he already knew Mary Elise had endometriosis and fertility problems. The most freaking unfair thing he could imagine, this woman not having her arms and heart full of babies.
Daniel shut down the image he'd carried for years, a mental picture of what Mary Elise might have looked like holding their kid. Focus on the here and now. He made tracks through the efficiency kitchen with a small counter and two bar stools, past the single sofa in front of a stone fireplace to the quilt-covered bed tucked against the back wall.
Not that Mary Elise would voice a complaint about their accommodations. Of course he appreciated her grit, but only to a point. And if he tried to discuss her medical needs with her again, who knew where she'd flip the conversation this time. The jock-strap-size discussion still had him swallowing his damned tongue.
He grinned.
Yeah, he liked her grit, all wrapped up in a subtle package and gentle smile, which gave the surprise wallop all the more punch. He hated like hell what had brought them here, but couldn't stop the surge of excitement over having her all to himself.
He was one messed-up dude. No doubt.
Daniel lowered her to the bed, surprised at the give under his hands. A water bed. He fixed his eyes on her face for the least sign of stirring. The gentle roll of enclosed waves welcomed her in a lulling embrace.
Unable to resist, a given around Mary Elise lately, he slid his survival vest and belt to the floor and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Lingered. He inhaled the honey-suckle scent of her shampoo like some infatuated adolescent. Except, the powerful tangle of frustration, anger, protectiveness pounding through him had little to do with tender teen emotions.
"I swear I won't let that bastard ever hurt you again," he whispered against her skin.
Her hand glided up to his chest. "Danny?"
She lay so still he missed the motion until he felt the warm weight of her palm seep through his uniform. He stared down into eyes the green of deep summer. And damned if it wasn't just the two of them. Completely alone for the first time in eleven years.
Chapter 13
Water bed rolling lightly beneath her, Mary Elise struggled to shake off the fuzzy dream remnants of long ago riding in Danny's warm embrace. A tough proposition when she could still feel the imprint of his strong arms banded around her after he carried her from the car.
The roar of the ocean outside lulled her, but she fought sleep's call. She brushed the pads of her fingers against the raspy texture of Daniel's flight suit. The whole dark-wood cabin decor and dim light through thick panes offered an ends-of-the-earth solitude her sleep-mussed brain couldn't seem to recall why she should resist. "Were you going to tell me we're here?"She flicked his zipper tab with one finger.
Daniel jumped back as if burned. "Were you going to tell me you're awake? I damn near threw my back out carrying you."
Angling up on her elbow, she started to bristle, the thrown-out-back comment coming mighty damn close on the heels of his pale-hag remark. She looked deeper, found an edgy tension in him that she might have attributed to their dangerous position, except with her own eyes opening and her defenses lowering, she recognized the glint well.