“Fine, but I’m going inside the cave with you,” he ground out.
She jerked up her head. “You hate caves. You won’t go ten feet without breaking into a cold sweat.”
A flush colored his sharply defined cheekbones. The man didn’t like betraying his weaknesses any more than she did. “I won’t get in the way.”
His tacit admission to his failing found a chink in her armor, but she hastily reminded herself she needed to push him away for his own good. “Well, I don’t need to worry I’ll have to rescue your ass, too.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re a stubborn cuss, you know that?” He took a step toward her, forcing her to tilt her head to look up his long body. “I’ll only go as far as the drop-off. This case is my jurisdiction.”
“But it’s not your rescue.” Angry at the flare of panic his intimidating stance produced, she bent and shoved the rope, carabiner clips, rope climbing devices, and a spare harness into her pack. It wasn’t his fault—the man hadn’t a clue how his large, rigid body affected her.
Pretending indifference, she stood, stuffed gloves into her pocket, then unbuttoned her overshirt and let it drop to the ground. Any object or clothing that might get bunched up or caught in her rigging had to go. Next, she removed the leather belt from the loops of her uniform pants.
The hiss of his indrawn breath brought an unwanted reminder of just how easily he could be aroused—by her.
Worse, she was reminded how close to the surface her own unwanted desire remained. Sweat dampened her T-shirt, and it stuck to her skin. Her nipples tightened, visibly pushing against her sports bra.
His gaze flickered over her chest, and his mouth thinned.
Wishing her long-sleeved tee was thicker and appalled at her body’s betrayal, Lani reached for her seat harness and stepped into it, jerking it up her hips. She adjusted the loops around the tops of her thighs and cinched it closed around her waist. Then she picked up the vertical pack and slid her arms through the straps.
When he reached for the strap at her waist, she forgot how to breathe. Pulling it tight, he buckled the ends together and the backs of his knuckles grazed her belly.
So close now that his lips were level with her gaze, Lani swallowed.
“Later,” he whispered.
After one step backward and a deep, ragged breath, she turned sharply on her heels and headed back to the cave.
“Lani!”
She wanted to resist his command, but she halted and looked over her shoulder. Her yellow helmet sailed toward her, and she grabbed it.
“I’ll be right behind you,” he said, his dark gaze steady and his square jaw clamped tight.
She turned away and tipped her baseball cap back, letting it fall to the ground, and then slammed her helmet on her head and adjusted her chinstrap.
“Hey, was Sheriff Chavez hittin’ on you?” Randy stood so close she jumped.
“Course not,” she lied, flashing him an incredulous look. “He thinks he wants to go down there with us.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “Let me know if you want him to make an air rappel.”
Relieved Randy was there to buffer her anxiety, Lani dug her elbow into his ribs. “You can’t push him over a ledge. He’s too damn big to carry back up.”
She made a quick inspection of the anchor wrapped around the tree, and then followed the line to the cave entrance, looking for abrasions and dirt—anything that might compromise the strength of the rope she’d dangle from.
Randy dogged her steps all the way to the mouth of the cave. “It’s all good, right?”
“Perfect.” Lani picked up the coiled end of the rope and flipped on the lamp on her helmet. “Get the Stokes litter and some blankets and follow me down.” With one look at the sheriff who trailed behind them, and a nod to the crew who’d keep watch from outside the cave, Lani knelt and crawled through the opening.
Inside, she stood and flung the coil in front of her. She tugged on her gloves, and then lifted the rope and let it feed through her hand at her side as she moved forward, the gravel and sand shifting beneath her feet.
Once she stepped beyond the meager light that spilled through the opening of the cave, she paused, listening to the silence, breathing in the cool, moist air that wrapped around her like a blanket. Already, she felt the tension in her shoulders release. She stood taller, stronger—comforted by the darkness beyond her lamp. And free.
Lani knew some cavers did it for the thrill, but to her the dark, confined spaces meant comfort, peace. She lived for the moments she clung to a rope, descending into a black pit or wriggling through a narrow opening on her belly, clawing at rock and dirt to inch her way to the next dark hole.
Humid, musty air, inky darkness, spaces so tight the sound of her breathing couldn’t echo. Except for the chill, like a mother’s womb.