Playing With Fire: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 2) (20 page)

The river slammed him against the trunk. He held on, and climbed along it, against the current, sputtering as water and foam crashed into his face. The force of the current threatened to wedge him under the tree, drown him. A branch speared him in the shoulder, and he jerked back, held on, gasping.

The depths reached up, tugged at him.

And then the tree shifted, rolling back on him into the grasp of the river. Branches caught him, netted him, dragged him down. Water crested over him, the current twisting him into the wreckage of branch and rock.

Imprisoned, he bucked and thrashed, but the tree had him by his shirt and pants.

He’d lost the surface.

His air began to hemorrhage. His chest turned to fire.

No—not like this. He’d made promises, and more—

He wanted to live.
Really
wanted to live, instead of this half-hearted, gray life—

A hand grabbed his shirt, fisted the fabric, and yanked.

Not enough oomph to pull him up, but it gave him a start. He followed the tug, wrestling past the gnarled branches.

He broke the surface, gasping hard.

Liza was hunched over on the tree, her legs hooked around a branch, reeling him in.

Saving his life.

He draped himself over the trunk, breathing hard.

She knelt next to him, shaking. “I saw you go under—I thought—” She wrapped her hands around his body, holding on, leaning into him. “I thought you were going to drown.”

Everything hurt, and he coughed, clearing water from his lungs, his nose.

“Me too.” He looked up.

Her eyes were so wide, so luminous, he thought he might lose his breath again. “Thank you for grabbing me.”

She backed away and sat in the middle of the tree, curled in a ball, bedraggled and shivering, her eyes huge and dark.

Conner pulled himself the rest of the way onto the tree. “Are you okay? I thought you were caught—”

“I got free when the tree landed.”

He felt their life raft shift beneath him. “Oh no.”

“It’s moving,” Liza said, gripping the branches. “We have to get off or we’re going over the falls.”

Ten yards away the world dropped off into a darkened horizon. Spray hazed the air.

“We’re not getting off here,” he said. “The rocks are buried, and the branches lodged against them are breaking.” He climbed up to her, caught her cold, trembling hands. “We’re going over, Liza.”

She shook her head, eyes still wide, her gaze in his. “I can’t—we—”

“Shh. We can. The current will bring us to the edge and pull the tree over. When it does, we’ll jump away from the tree and the falls. As far out as we can. And I’ve got you. I’m not letting go—”

“But you did before—”

“I swear I won’t let you go!” He took her hand, clasped it between his. Cold and wet, she was trembling, and he longed to pull her into his arms. “I promise.”

Her jaw tightened and for a second she didn’t move.

Then the tree jerked, and she fell against him, her arms around his waist.

“Sorry.” She leaned back.

Really?

He reached down to lace her fingers between his. Strong, long, beautiful fingers, used to shaping pottery bowls and pitchers. She tightened her grip, reinforcing it with a hold on his forearm.

He found his feet, leveraging himself on a branch.

“Don’t let go!” she said over the roar.

Never.
“Make sure your feet are clear of any branches!”

The tree jostled against boulders but otherwise ran a clear path, rocketing toward the edge of the falls, the mist rising over them, sprinkling their skin.

“Ready?”

She might have nodded, he didn’t know, but she edged up behind him.

Then the front of the tree shot out over the lip of the falls.

Seconds later, the back end rose with the force of the leverage.

“Jump!”

With everything inside him, he launched himself into space, his hand a death grip in hers, willing them to float, to fly, to soar over the churning cauldron below the falls.

He didn’t know how far down it might be, hadn’t gotten a good look as the tree climbed, but time lengthened as his feet kicked the air, his arm windmilling to keep them upright.

Liza’s scream rent the air.

He splashed down hard, sinking fast, this time without the lethal weight of his backpack to derail him and drag them to their deaths.

Only as he began to kick did he realize that she hadn’t let go.

And neither had he. He pulled her up with him, fighting the tempest wanting to drag them back under.

His head broke the surface. He yanked her up a second before the current grabbed them. “Swim!”

He used the combat stroke he’d learned in the military to propel them away from the falls. She kicked valiantly beside him.

He swam them towards shore and parked them in an eddy where his feet could touch. Here, on the far side of the falls, the water calmed, smoothed out in a pool before gathering strength to surge to the next great ledge.

Still in the water, he pulled her against himself, releasing her hand, his arm around her waist, his breaths tumbling over each other.

The moonlight fell against her whitened face, glistening in her hair.

“Are you okay?”

She gave a watery, flimsy smile. A nod.

And he couldn’t stop his gaze from tracing over her beautiful face, skimming to her lips.

Couldn’t ignore the fact that she was in his arms, hers around his neck, her body pressed against his, clinging to him.

Wow, he’d missed her.

And suddenly, he wasn’t cold at all.

A great big piece of him just wanted to lean in, kiss her. Just gulp her whole with a crazy, hot, palpable joy.

He could nearly taste her with the yearning for it.

Because, yeah, he still loved her, too.

And that thought came hot, fast. Brilliant into his head. Loved?

Okay, yes. If love was not being able to forget her, to have the almost insatiable desire to talk to her, the deep need to hear her voice, to see her smile.

If that was love, then he’d probably loved her from the moment he’d found her on the beach in Deep Haven and she’d offered him hope. Breakfast.

The kind of friendship that he should have realized was more,
much
more.

When this gig is over, you’re going to walk out of my life…

Oh no he wasn’t.

He wrangled his voice free. “Ready to get out of this river?”

Her mouth curved then into a delicious smile. “I dunno. Is there a grizzly waiting to eat us?”

“Oh, that?”

She laughed.

And then, he couldn’t take it. The sound of her laughter was like water to his parched heart.

Wow, he’d missed her.

Almost without thinking, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

He meant for it to be quick, something akin to relief or gratefulness. Something that didn’t commit either of them to anything but simply relished the fact they’d survived.

But he’d never been able to keep his heart from racing out ahead when it came to Liza. One look, one touch, and he found himself all in, even if his common sense told him otherwise.

And he was fresh out of common sense.

His kiss turned in one rich, blinding second from short and sweet to something primal and needy, something wrought from the fact that he’d had her in his arms, lost her, and found her again. He didn’t want to think about anything beyond right now and never letting her go.

So his kiss went deep, diving in to really taste her.

And, hallelujah, she was kissing him back. Not sweetly, not quietly, not tentatively, but her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him, or maybe just holding on—but thank you, river!—reaching for all he could give her.

In fact, he couldn’t remember—
ever
—being kissed like this, by her, by anyone. Not quite so thoroughly, without reserve, as if she wanted to inhale him, gulp in all of him.

He’d gotten a taste of the passion behind her reserve back in Sedona during their first kiss. But he’d forgotten how it could reach in and ignite his own.

Then, before the river could steal her away, he reached down and wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her there.

His arms lifted her, closing around her back, his legs planting, just a little offset, and he twined his fingers into her floating, long silky hair, letting himself explore, taste, relish.

She tasted of fear, relief, the delicious friendship they’d shared, and more.

Healing, and even the hope for tomorrow. He thought his heart just might explode.

Then all at once she jerked back.

What—? “Liza?”

She met his eyes. “Oh no.”

“Huh?”

“No, no...oh no.” She unlocked her legs, pressed away from his shoulders.

As she floated back, a tiny fist formed in his gut.

“What’s
oh no
?” he said stupidly, hating his own words. Because yeah, he knew.

But please, he didn’t want her to say it...

“I’m such an idiot. I did it again—I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want this—”

“Liza, I kissed you first. Trust me, I
wanted
to.”

She shook her head. “No, you didn’t.”

What—?

He wanted to reach for her again, but she treaded water just out of his reach.

“Listen. We’re alive, right? It’s just adrenaline.” She turned and worked her way toward the dark folds of shore. “We’re cold and tired and shaky.”

He could admit to shaky, but it had nothing to do with being cold and tired.

“Liza, I—”

“It’s okay, Conner.” She pulled herself up onto a boulder, her arms around herself, shivering. “Like I said. When this gig is over, you’re going to walk away, and I’m going to let you. But...” She smiled then. “I do thank you for keeping your promise to hold on.”

His question must have shown on his expression.

“Although I think my fingers might be broken.”

He came to sit beside her on the boulder, tamping down the urge to pull her close, to keep her from shivering.

And wished he’d made that promise long ago.

They’d become the ones needing rescue.

Liza stood at the edge of the river, water running in rivulets down her back as she shivered from her core. A nip of chill laced the night air, raising gooseflesh on her skin.

Overhead the moonlight sparkled against the blackened river, the boulders along the shoreline glinting like steel. Behind her, the wind twined through the forest, hushing, gathering the quiet darkness into dangerous, inky pools where a grizzly—or any other predator—might scent her fear.

Didn’t animals prey on the fearful, the weak?

She had half a mind to crouch right here, on shore, and not move.

Or maybe cry.

Conner came up beside her, however, after climbing out of the river and shaking himself off like a dog. He pushed his hair back from his face, his T-shirt plastered to his frame.

A very muscular, solid, safe frame, one that she’d practically had to peel herself away from.

Oh, she was definitely playing with fire now.

“We can’t hike out. We’ll need to find a place to hunker down.” Conner held out his hand.

Liza took it without a pause. Never mind about the kiss, the fact that she’d practically attacked him. Tomorrow, in the light of day, she’d somehow gather up her common sense. Tonight her frayed edges made her cling to him, follow him along the shore.

He led her across rocks then deeper into the forest, as if he knew where he might be going. But with their equipment at the bottom of the river, well—