Gray, Ginna (14 page)

Lauren was concentrating so fiercely she hadn't realized that Sam
had stopped until she climbed up onto a ledge beside him.

"We'll never make it up this," he said, craning his neck
back to look up.

Pressed as flat as she could get to the rock-face, Lauren clutched
the granite slab in a death grip. Carefully she tilted her head to follow Sam's
gaze and saw that above them, all the way to the bench, was a perpendicular
cliff face. To her eye, there didn't appear to be so much as a fingerhold in
the smooth rock.

"We'll have to make our way around this outcrop and find a
better spot," Sam announced.

"What, on this?" Lauren looked down at her feet. The shelf
of rock on which they stood was no deeper that her boots. The heels of Sam's
moccasins hung over the edge a good two inches and all there was to hold on to
was this smooth, curving rock. It had been scary enough climbing up here, but
the thought of edging sideways on this tiny ledge made her blood run cold.
"No. No, we can't. That's suicide."

"We don't have a choice. Before too much longer we're going
to have company, and we're sitting ducks up here. C'mon, let's go."
Extending his left arm, he ran his hand over the rock-face until he found
another fingerhold, then, slowly, carefully, sidestepped to his left, pushing
the snow off the ledge with his left foot as he inched away from her.

Lauren hugged the cliff-face, too terrified to move, watching him.
Her cheek was flattened against the icy rock, the hardness of it grinding her
flesh against her cheekbone, but she bore the pain rather than loosen her grip.

The tether grew taut, and Sam looked back, surprised to see that
she hadn't budged. "What are you doing just standing there?" he
snapped. "Move."

"I...I can't."

"Yes, you damn well can," he growled. Then he must have
seen the hellish fear in her eyes because when he spoke again the timbre of his
voice had dropped, become deeper, gentler, more persuasive. "You're a
strong, intelligent woman, Lauren. A survivor. You can do this."

"No, I—"

"Lauren, listen to me. These past few days you've done a lot
of things you probably never thought you could do. You can do this, too. Just
reach out and find a fingerhold, then slide your left foot over. C'mon,
Lauren," he coaxed. "You can do it."

He held out his right hand, and his dark eyes locked with hers,
willing her to come to him. "C'mon, baby," he whispered.

Maybe it was his tenderness, or the mesmerizing quality of his
stare, or the steely strength he exuded. Lauren didn't know, but something in
her responded. Trembling, hesitant, she did as he instructed.

"That's it. You're doing fine. Just take it nice and slow.
Atta girl."

She inched along, hugging the cliff, her heart pounding like a
jackhammer against the rock, a knot of ice lodged in her chest. Her insides
were trembling like gelatin.

Then she made the mistake of glancing down.

Spread out far below them was a sea of treetops and a bird's-eye
view of the cabin, which, from there, looked like a child's toy.

Her head spun and her stomach dropped. With a cry, she froze and
squeezed her eyes shut and clung even tighter to the cliff-face. "Oh God.
Oh God. Oh God."

"Don't look down! Don't look down!" Sam ordered.

Now you tell me,
Lauren thought, biting her
tongue to keep from screaming.

"Look at me. C'mon, Lauren, open your eyes. That's it, that's
it," he encouraged when she reluctantly obeyed. "Now focus on my face
and don't look away. Just look at me. And don't think about where you
are," he ordered in a velvety voice.

Screwing up her courage, Lauren stared into those dark eyes and
moved ever so slightly to the left again.

"That's it. Just take it nice and slow. You're doing fine.
C'mon. It isn't far. Just a few more steps," he coaxed, moving to his left
just out of her reach. "You're doing great. Keep going. A little more is all—
No! Don't look down! Keep your eyes on me. That's it. Thata girl."

It seemed to take forever, like some terrible nightmare that had
her in its grip and would not allow her to wake up. As they inched along, with
Sam coaxing and encouraging Lauren every step of the way, the ledge climbed
steadily, making the going even tougher. Finally they maneuvered around the
curve of the rock-face and found themselves in a V-shaped area where two
formations met and the ledge ended. The juncture was rough and jagged, but
mercifully it had an inward slant and offered handholds.

"I think we can get to the top here," Sam said. He
looked at Lauren. "Ready?"

Ready? she thought on the verge of hysteria.
Ready?
Lord,
have mercy, she would
never
be ready for this. Never in a million years.
She was clinging to a steep cliff hundreds of feet above the treetops, for
Pete's sake.

Flattened against the rock-face, she clung to its rough surface
like a limpet, so frightened she could barely breathe. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

She didn't want to move. But she couldn't stay here. As though to
emphasize that point, the wind kicked up, buffeting her cruelly, as though
trying to peel her away from the rock's surface, bouncing the dangling
snowshoes against the backs of her thighs. Left with no choice, she screwed up
her courage and managed the merest of nods. "I...I'm ready."

"Okay, here we go."

Sam reached up and grabbed a jagged rock with one hand and started
climbing, finding and testing hand and toeholds, working his way steadily
upward. He was about ten feet above her when the rope began to tauten again.

"C'mon, Lauren. We're almost there. Just a little more to
go."

Lauren tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry.

"Reach up with your right hand. There's a rock you can get a
good grip on above your head."

Pressing her lips together, she drew a shuddering breath. With her
arms spread wide to either side, she was barely holding on by her fingertips.
The thought of letting go with one hand terrified her. She wasn't sure she
could do it.

"C'mon, Lauren. It's the only way."

She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, but after a while she
slid her hand slowly upward, and sure enough, about a foot above her head her
fingers curved over a sharp edge. It was the most secure hold she'd had on
anything since they'd started this climb, and she gripped the rock so tightly
her knuckles whitened. Cautiously she slid her other hand up and found another
handhold.

"Pull yourself up and throw your leg over the edge," Sam
encouraged, pulling up on the rope to take part of her weight and assist her.

Straining with all her might, Lauren did as he instructed, and
hoisted herself upward, trying not to shudder when her feet lost contact with
the narrow ledge.

"Okay, now grab that sharp rock just above you to your
left."

With Sam a few feet above her, directing her every move, Lauren
slowly inched her way toward the rim. She concentrated on one move at a time, all
her focus and energy zeroed in on what she was doing. She didn't notice how
close they were to their goal until Sam gave an explosive sound somewhere
between a grunt and a groan, and she looked up in time to see him drag himself
over the top.

Panic assailed her when he momentarily disappeared from her line
of vision. Then he poked his head over the edge and grinned down at her, his
face full of male triumph. "Made it. Now you. Hook your fingers in that
crevice and step up on that slab of rock, then reach up and grab the trunk of
that sapling."

She did as he instructed, but no matter how hard she tried her
fingers were a few inches shy of the tree. "I...can't...reach it,"
she gasped.

"Try again."

She rose up on tiptoes and stretched her body as far as she could,
but it was no use. "I...can't. I'm too... short."

"Damn."

Lauren resumed her precarious fingertip hold on the crevice and
scanned the six feet or so of mountainside between her and Sam. There was
nothing else to grab hold of but that one scrawny spruce sapling.

The wind still slapped at her and her fingers were beginning to
cramp. She didn't know how much longer she could hold on. She whimpered without
realizing it, and gazed pleadingly up at Sam.

"Don't panic," he ordered. "You're okay. We'll just
have to go to Plan B."

Leaning out over the edge of the precipice, he wrapped the safety
rope around his wrist, gripped it firmly and pulled it taut. "Now, I want
you to grab the rope at about your shoulder level with both hands and at the
same time brace your feet against the slope and lean back."

"Lean back?" She glanced fearfully over her shoulder.
"Are you crazy?"

"You'll be okay, I promise. As I pull you up you 'walk' up
the side."

"Walk?" she said weakly. "I don't think this rope
will support me."

"Sure it will. Trust me, babe. I won't let you fall."

She didn't have any choice. She closed her eyes and said a quick
prayer, then began to count. One. Two. She took a deep breath. Three.

She grabbed the rope with both hands and screamed as she felt her
upper body tilt backward, but somehow the soles of her boots found purchase on
the slope. Then she was being pulled upward.

It wasn't easy. Her bare hands were so cold they hurt, yet the
rope burned her palms. The strain on her arms and shoulder muscles was excruciating,
but she set her jaw and forced her feet to move.

"You're doing great. Just a little more," Sam grated
out.

The muscles and tendons in his neck stood out and his face was red
from exertion, but, hand over hand, he pulled her steadily toward him. When her
head was within three feet of the top two things happened—the thin rope began
to fray and she lost her footing.

There was no time for more than a gasp of fright from Lauren
before Sam's hand whipped out and clamped around one of her wrists. The next
thing she knew she was dangling in space by one arm.

"Be still," Sam snapped. "Don't kick. I've got
you." He frowned. "Jesus, woman, you can't weigh a hundred pounds
soaking wet. It's a wonder you don't blow away."

In one quick, continuous motion, he plucked her up and over the
top as though she were a sack of feathers and rolled with her away from the
edge. When they came to a stop Lauren lay sprawled on top of him.

For a moment she clung to him with her face buried against his
chest, gasping and shuddering.

Sam rubbed his hands up and down her back. "It's okay. You're
safe now. You made it. Shh. Shh. You're all right, little one. It's over."

He had only a second's warning. A low rumble started deep inside
her, almost like a cat's purr, but the sound increased steadily in volume and
intensity as it rose in her throat. When it erupted in a shriek of pure rage
she hauled off and socked him.

"You
jerk!"

"Hey!"
Sam yelped.

Lauren pummeled him with both fists. "Idiot! Imbecile! You
nearly got me killed!
Again!"

"Dammit! Will you knock it off and listen to m—
Oof!"

"No! I won't listen to you! You got me into this mess! You
and your brain-dead friends in Denver." Lauren rammed her fist into his
gut, too furious and shaken to do anything but lash out. "You risked my
life. And for what? Those men were probably here to...rescue us...just like I
said," she gasped out between blows. She struck out blindly with both
hands, slapping and pounding with all the pent-up fear and anxiety that had
been building for days. "We could have flown...out of here in...a helicopter
if you would just...listen to...reason! But, no. You don't...trust anyone, so
we had to climb this...stupid mountain!"

"Hey! Cut it out, before I have to hurt you."

"Ha! Just try it!"

Sam grabbed her wrists, but then Lauren began to kick and thrash.
When her knee came too close for comfort, he wrapped his legs around hers,
scissor-fashion, and rolled her onto her back. Pinning her hands deep in the
snow on either side of her head, he held her down with the weight of his body.

"You little hell-cat." He glared down into her furious
face. "Will you calm down for a second and let me—?"

"No!" She bucked her hips. "Get off of me, you oaf!
I don't wa—"

His mouth closed over hers, swallowing the rest of the tirade.

Shocked to her core, Lauren froze, her eyes wide, as though the
touch of his mouth on hers had short-circuited her brain. The stunned reaction
lasted only a moment. Then all the raging passion still churning inside her
came boiling back to the surface. Her heart took off at a thundering gallop,
and she kissed him back, matching the punishing kiss with a fury and ardor that
equaled his.

The kiss was hot, greedy, devouring—an eruption of emotion and
need. Their mouths plundered, giving no quarter, each taking what they wanted,
demanding more.

Sam released her wrists to cup one hand around her face while the
other slid downward to her breasts. Encountering the bulky parka, he made a
frustrated sound.

Lauren grasped his head between her palms, knocking aside his
parka hood and knit cap to winnow her fingers through his hair and explore his
scalp, the shape of his head. The thick, ebony strands felt like warm silk
slithering through her chilled fingers.

They strained together, driven by a need neither understood nor
expected. It was instinctive, desperate, irresistible. Primal.

The flare of fierce emotions burned bright for several seconds,
but gradually the kiss forged into something deeper, stronger—a hot and searing
pleasure so intense it took Lauren's breath away and made her feel as though
her bones were melting.

She clung to Sam and returned the kiss with a simmering passion
that matched his, even while on some distant level she was shocked and appalled
by what was happening.

This was the last thing she had expected—or wanted, she told
herself. Sam didn't even
like
her, for Pete's sake. Nor did she care
much for him, except in a purely practical way. He was, after all, an excellent
man to have on your side in a crisis. But he was also hard and cold and distant,
even downright unfriendly, and his opinion of her was about as low as it could
get.

Yet...she could not summon the will to stop what was happening.
The pleasure was too great, the need too compelling.

Sam groaned. He felt as though his world had suddenly shifted on
its axis. Nothing was as it should be, and he had a hunch that it might never
be again. That possibility terrified him.

The kiss had been an impulse, one of those things that just
happens before you can stop it. Borne out of anger, it should have been a
punishment, even an insult for Lauren, and nothing more than a meaningless
encounter for him, but it was none of those things. The feel of her, the
softness of her lips, the sensations he was experiencing, all rocked him to his
soul and left him weak and shaken...and desperate for more.

This was insane, he told himself, as his tongue mated with hers.
They were in a tight spot. There was no time for this. They had to make tracks
out of here, fast.

Even as the thoughts went through his mind he deepened the kiss,
unable to resist her mouth or the extravagant sensations that throbbed between
them.

Finally, though, common sense prevailed, and from somewhere he
found the strength to pull away. Their lips clung, parting with exquisite
slowness as he raised his head.

Except for their heaving chests, neither moved. Sam's dark eyes
fixed on Lauren and narrowed. Damn. She looked sexy as hell, her face relaxed
and flushed, her lips a bit swollen and still wet from his kiss. He winced when
he noticed that around her mouth her delicate skin was red and abraded from his
beard.

They were both breathing heavily, their breath mingling between
them in a white fog. Through the mist, Sam watched her eyelids flutter open.
She gazed up at him, her green eyes still clouded with passion and slightly out
of focus. The sight nearly drove Sam over the edge again. He ground his teeth
and waited.

"Why—" Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat and
licked her lips. Sam had to stifle a groan. "Why did you do that?"
she whispered.

He stared at her for a long time. Finally he shrugged. "I had
to shut you up someway."

Even before all the words had left his lips he regretted the
comment. Hurt flashed in her eyes, and Sam cursed silently. He could have
kicked himself, though a part of him accepted that it was probably for the
best. Even if she wasn't Carlo's mistress, she was still a witness and his
responsibility. He had no business touching her.

He watched the passion fade from her eyes and her mouth tighten.
Before she could lash out again he rolled off of her and sat up. "Let's
get going. We've wasted enough time already."

"Why you insufferable—"

Lauren scrambled to her feet, only to have Sam grab her arm and
jerk her back down again.

"Wha—-?

"Just shut up and stay down," Sam commanded in a gruff
voice, shoving her roughly down, flat on her belly. Keeping his hand clamped
around the back of her neck, he ignored her squirming and held her in place and
flattened himself in the snow beside her.

Lauren sputtered and spit snow out of her mouth and swiped the icy
globs off her face. "What do you think you're doing?" she snarled.
"Let go of me."

Ignoring her struggles, he raised his head cautiously and peered
over the edge of the drop-off. "You think I worry for nothing? Take a look
down there. That's the reason we made this climb."

Releasing her, Sam slid one arm out of the backpack and scrounged
inside for the binoculars while Lauren raised her head and peeked over the
side.

Far below, three armed men eased out of the woods and moved cautiously
into the clearing.

"Still think they're here to rescue us?"

"Okay, so they're carrying rifles. That doesn't mean they're
the bad guys," Lauren insisted, but the uneasiness in her voice came
through all the same.

"Just watch and see what they do." Looping the binocular
strap around his neck, Sam raised the glasses and scanned from one man to the
next. They had on ski masks and their parka hoods were up. Identifying any of
them from that distance and angle was impossible.

The leader signaled to the other two, and they spread out across
the small clearing. Crouched low, they moved with stealth toward the cabin,
weapons ready.

At the cabin they pressed their backs to the log walls on either
side of the door. The leader again gave a hand signal, and he and the man on
the other side of the door rushed inside. Instantly the sound of automatic
weapon fire erupted.

Lauren gave a startled cry and jumped back, unconsciously scooting
closer to Sam. "Oh my God!"

The staccato sound went on for several seconds. Sam's eyes
narrowed and his mouth thinned into a grim line. The bastards were spraying the
inside of the cabin with bullets. If he and Lauren had been inside they
wouldn't have had a chance.

The shooting stopped as quickly as it began. Seconds later the men
came back outside. They scanned the clearing again, then huddled together for a
discussion. After a few minutes they spread out and began searching the ground
for tracks.

Lauren lowered her head and buried her face against her crossed
arms, shuddering. "They found me. Even here, in the middle of nowhere. Oh
God, they're going to kill us."

"Like hell they are."

"Oh, right. And just how are you going to stop them?"

"For starters, we're going to outrun them. It'll take them a
while to find our trail. They will, eventually, but by then we'll have gained
more time. There's no place between here and the crash site for that chopper to
land and pick them up, so those three will either climb up after us or hike
back to the chopper and hunt us from the air. Either way, by then we'll have a
couple of hours lead on them, and we're going to make the most of it. If we can
beat them back to civilization, we can shake them. So, c'mon, let's go."

"Hunt us from the air!" Lauren squeaked. "Dear
Lord, we won't have a chance!"

Ignoring her, Sam scooted backward through the snow a few feet
until he was far enough from the edge of the cliff that he was out of sight of
the men below. Sitting up, he scowled at Lauren as he untied his snowshoes from
his backpack. "C'mon, get over here and put those snowshoes on. Let's go,
let's go!"

She did as he ordered, simply because she had no other choice.
"This is hopeless. We're going to be sitting ducks if they come after us
in the helicopter."

"Not really. Spotting someone from the air is a lot more
difficult than it looks. We'll keep to the trees, and when we hear the chopper
coming we'll dive for cover."

Sam knelt on one knee, then the other as he wound the lacings over
and around his boots. "Anyway, they won't be able to sustain an aerial
search for long. These mountains are too remote and that chopper's fuel
capacity isn't that great. The pilot will probably do a sweep or two, then head
back to base and leave the others to track us on foot. I'm sure they came
prepared for the possibility."

He stood and stomped his feet to test the bindings. Lauren
finished tying hers and did the same. Sam watched her, and when he was
satisfied he turned and headed for the thick stand of fir trees that blanketed
the bench of land and most of the mountain slopes below ten thousand feet.
"C'mon. Let's go."

"Go where? If they found us here, they can find us
anywhere."

He stopped and looked back, fixing her with that inscrutable stare
that sent little tingles dancing along her spine. "Don't make the mistake
of crediting Carlo with more power than he has. He's a mob boss who controls a
small army of thugs. That makes him a dangerous man, but he's not omnipotent.
The only reason his men found us is because we have at least one agent in the
Denver office who's on Carlo's payroll. Maybe more."

"What!
You
knew
this? Then how on earth
did you think you could keep me safe?"

"Besides myself and Dave, only four others knew about you.
Four trusted agents who I thought were clean. I was wrong. At least one of
those four is dirty."

Just saying that out loud made Sam's gut clench. Dammit, he would
have trusted every one of those men with his life. Even Harvey.

"How did they—?"

"We don't have time for this discussion right now. You have a
right to know what's going on, and I'll answer your questions later, but right
now it's time to get the hell outta Dodge."

"What's the point? They'll find us, somehow. There's no safe
place to hide."

"I know a place. Trust me, Lauren. I'm going to do everything
I can to keep you safe. I won't let anyone hurt you. You have my word on
that."

"Ah, yes, how could I forget? You need me to make your case
against Mr. Giovessi, don't you?"

"There is that," he answered finally. "But now it's
personal, too."

"You mean because they almost killed you, too, while trying
to eliminate me?"

"No. That's part of the risk you take when you sign on as an
agent." He stared at her, unblinking. "For what it's worth, I wasn't
honest with you before. I didn't kiss you to shut you up. I kissed you because
I wanted to. Because I've been wanting to ever since the moment I first saw
you."

He turned and walked away toward the woods, leaving her standing
speechless, staring after him with her jaw hanging open.

She was so stunned she couldn't move, or even think at first. Then
he disappeared into the woods, and she jolted. "No, wait!
Wait!"

She might as well have saved her breath. Sam ignored her and
forged on at a pace just under a trot. Lauren hurried after him as fast as she
could, almost tripping several times in the awkward snowshoes before she caught
the rhythm.