To the Brink (13 page)

Rahimulla no longer stood watch over her. The new kid on the block must have ordered him away. In fact, Rahimulla hadn't spoken to her all day. Worse, he would no longer look her in the eye. Not good signs.

But she didn't want to think about that now. She wanted to pee.

Careful not to disturb Amy, Darcy got the guard's attention.

"Sir," she said softly, as she had been ordered to address her guards, even though this one was another boy.
Lito,
she thought.
Or maybe not.
She didn't want to know their names.

Since the only time Darcy spoke was when she had to relieve herself, there was no need for further communication. They all knew the drill by now.

The boy glared but finally nodded, which was her signal for permission to stand. Not making eye contact with him, she stood, submissive, and waited, giving him the sense of power he seemed to need. At long last, he made a gesture with the nose of his assault weapon indicating that she could walk to the edge of the clearing.

He followed as she limped to the fringe of the encampment, then stood within three feet of her. Beyond modesty at this point, she reached for the snap on her shorts. It took some fumbling with her bound wrists, which were raw and weeping from the hemp rope, but she eventually managed the zipper. It was only because her guard was young and apparently embarrassed that he turned his back and left her to her business.

She hadn't any more than squatted down in the midst of some leafy ferns when all the hairs on her arms stood at attention. She froze, still as a tree, while her heart bounced around inside her chest like a pinball.

All of her muscles tightened. She felt instantly overwhelmed by awareness. Of what, she didn't know. But something—something was about to happen. She was certain of it.

She made quick work of her business and dropped to her knees so she could pull up her shorts.

She glanced back at her guard. His young profile was limned in night shadows cast through the foliage from the small fire burning in the middle of the encampment. He seemed relaxed. As if the world hadn't just rocked beneath his feet as it had beneath hers.

Hyperaware of the very air that she breathed, she snapped her head back front. And just as she did, something fell past her field of vision and dropped to the ground a few inches in front of her. She heard it more than saw it.

A minute whir of sound.

A minuscule flash of color that startled her.

She caught a cry of surprise before she gave anything away. Her fingers trembling from excitement as much as from fatigue, she felt around on the ground in front of her, silently pushing aside grass and forest rot—until she finally felt something.

Something small and round and . . .

Her pulse spiked like a fever.

A Life Saver. It was a Life Saver!

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Ethan. Ethan is here.

She almost wept with relief before getting ahold of herself.

With a trembling hand she snatched it up, afraid that even in the dark her guard would see it. Or accidentally run across it. She knew it was cherry even before she popped it into her mouth.

She bit her lower lip to hold back a joyous cry or a frustrated snarl—she truly didn't know which. It took every ounce of her dwindling control not to look up or around and try to spot him.

He was here. Somewhere. Close.
So close.

She wanted to run to him, to fall into his arms and weep with relief and joy, and .. . and she couldn't.

She couldn't go to him. Not yet. She couldn't give him away. If he'd meant for this to be the time, he'd have simply come and gotten her. Instead, he'd sent her a signal.

A Life Saver.

A cherry Life Saver!

So that she'd know he'd come to save her life.

She lowered her head, her heart pounding so hard she was afraid the guard would hear it. Tears stung her eyes.

Oh, God, thank you.

And for some reason, she was suddenly more frightened than the night she'd been abducted. Knowing that Ethan was so near and not being able to reach out to him was torture. Like standing ankle-deep in the snow in bare feet and freezing to death while watching a fire burn through a locked window. Like dying of thirst while staring at a lake full of water that was out of reach.

And she was afraid the fire would burn out... or the water would evaporate before either could help her.

But this was Ethan. Not a mirage. Not a dream. He was real. He was here. And he
would
get her out of here.

Her faith in him had to sustain her. And it would.

It did.

She carefully stood and refastened her shorts. With the guard's permission, she walked past him on shaking legs and resumed her position on the ground. Where she sat, then lay on her side, her eyes watchful, searching, her spirits buoyed.

She couldn't see Ethan. He didn't want her to see him. But she knew that he was out there in the dark waiting for the moment to strike.

For now, it was enough. She had to make it be enough.

Despite her hunger, despite her pain, she found a strength of will, of purpose, deep inside. She'd need every ounce of both when the time came.

Silent tears of relief leaked down her cheeks. Ethan hadn't let her down. He'd promised her once he would never let her down.

And she wouldn't let him down, either. She'd be ready when he came.

Chapter 10

LIMA,
 
PERU

EIGHT YEARS
 
EARLIER

Darcy had some time of her own coming
when the handsome lieutenant asked her to spend his vacation with him; she didn't hesitate to cash it in.

"I've been in Peru almost a year and I haven't taken the time to venture outside of the Lima city limits more than a couple of times," she confessed.

"Well, we're going to rectify that during the next few days."

He hadn't been lying. The first day, they drove south of Lima to Pisco and braved the sand dunes on a wild dune buggy ride. He'd laughed and she'd screamed and later they'd fallen into bed, in each other's arms, blissfully happy and thoroughly exhausted.

He had a sense of adventure, this lieutenant of hers—and she had begun to think of him as hers, wisely or not. Peru suited him well. The country was, she was finding out, a place pulsing with adventure.

To the west of Lima and fringed by stark desert was the sparkling Pacific. They drove there in a day, then stood wrapped in each other's arms laughing at the antics of thousands of playful sea lions as they dived in and out of the icy ocean.

It took Darcy and Ethan two days to travel back to the little coastal city of Trujillo. Here the surf was incredible. Of course, Ethan had to ride it and then drag her out on a small canoe made of reeds and lashed together with string. The locals called the small boats
pequenos caballos,
"little horses," and with Ethan manning the paddle, she got the ride of her life.

She felt like she was living in a dream, beautiful lover, beautiful country, when a few days later she stood with Ethan at one of the most stunningly beautiful places she'd ever seen—the base of the Andes and El Misti volcano just outside the city of Arequipa.

Smoke rose from the crater in magical drifting wisps; all around them the brilliance of hot pink bougainvillea blooms filled her senses with color.

The man at her side filled her with wonder and awe.

The days since that first night with Lt. Ethan Garrett in her bed had been wild and intense and incredible.

Sometimes she had to stop and catch her breath. Remind herself that she'd just met him. And they never spent much time talking. At least not about him.

But it was so good between them.

So good, it sometimes frightened her.

Daily—while she watched him lather his gorgeous face and shave in front of a bathroom mirror wearing nothing but a towel low on his hips and the scars on his body that he wore like armor—she'd cautioned herself that she'd just met the man.

A man the likes of whom she'd never before encountered. Never dreamed existed.

And she was a fool to not enjoy every moment he wanted to spend with her.

Their last day in Arequipa, they played tourist. "'Arequipa is known as the city with the prettiest girls,' "she announced, reading from a pamphlet she'd picked up at a welcome center.

He plucked a bougainvillea blossom from a nearby vine and tucked it behind her ear. "Not possible."

Then he leaned in and kissed her with a gentleness that never failed to make her knees go weak. "I'm looking at the prettiest girl in the world."

Because she was so filled with emotion, she made a joke of it. "You're so cute when you're corny."

He pulled her to him, held her loosely with his fingers laced at the small of her back. "How about when I'm horny? Am I cute then, too?"

His erection pressed against her belly and made her laugh and shiver at the same time. "Since I've never seen you any other way, I guess the answer would be yes."

"Got to love that word." He kissed her so sweetly then, it brought tears to her eyes. "Got it in you to say it again?"

And then he did the unthinkable. He went down on one knee. Slipped a ring out of his pocket.

Her world went red, white, and fuzzy.

"I know this is fast," he said while around them villagers and tourists grinned at the romance of it all. "And I know it's a little crazy. But I know something else, Darcy."

His beautiful blue eyes searched hers with the first, the very first hint of uncertainty she'd ever seen him show. "I love you and I never dreamed I could love anyone as much as I love you. Marry me and I promise, I'll never make you sorry."

She must have started crying, because she couldn't see for the mist that clouded her eyes. Couldn't see the beautiful old buildings made from volcanic ash. Couldn't see the lushly flowering bougainvillea that climbed and twined around stone walls and ironwork fences.

She could only see him. Nothing but him.

"Marry me," he repeated, holding her gaze.

She'd had a total of two serious relationships in her life. They'd been sweet and uneventful and in the end they'd simply fizzled. In both cases, she and the man had parted as friends. And it was as friends that she thought of them still.

What she had with Ethan Garrett was too exotic to call friendship. Too intense to call casual. He made her laugh, made her yearn, made her feel, in turns, safe and cherished, then afraid and out of control. Above all, though, he made her feel alive.

Darcy knew his body intimately. Knew every nuance of those intense blue eyes, knew exactly how to make them widen with shock or go smoky with pleasure.

She knew everything about him. Everything but the one thing she wanted to know the most and that he protected with evasive kisses or clever subject changes. She did not know
him.
The man. What made him feel the deepest. What made him want. What made him cry.

And yet... as he looked up at her, hope laced with the secrets in his eyes, she was desperately, hopelessly, in love.