Unexpected Lovers

Between the Sheets 2

SANDY SULLIVAN

Copyright © 2010

Chapter One

Whitney slowly opened her eyes.
God my head hurts.
Scorching heat beat down on her, making sweat roll down between her breasts and down her back. When she tried to move, her muscles screamed in pain, and she moaned. She turned her head slightly when the sound of falling rocks met her ear.

“What the hell do I have to do to get rid of you?”

“Eric?” She squinted against the glare of the sun as she tried to bring his face into focus. “Eric, please help me. I can’t move my leg.”

A maniacal laugh registered in her brain. “Help you? I’m the reason you’re where you are. Why would I help you?”

Images came back with a stab of pain. The two of them had come to the Grand Canyon for a sort of second honeymoon for their five year wedding anniversary. They’d planned to rock climb that morning, so they’d headed out to the south rim with their backpacks, water, and food. Eric had suggested hiking to the bottom of the canyon, spending the night and then hiking back. They’d hiked about a quarter of the way down the trail. When they had stopped by a small outcropping of rocks to rest and looked over the ledge to the canyon below, the next thing she knew, she was falling down the steep, rocky incline, head first.

“Eric,” she whimpered, fighting the darkness that threatened to consume her.

“That’s it, baby. Let it take you.”

“I hurt so bad.”

“You won’t in a bit. When you heart stops and you die, you won’t hurt anymore.”

“Die?”

“You bet. How else can I be with Mallory?”

“Mal?”

He laughed again. “You were so blind, Whitney. Mal and I have been together since right after the wedding and then when you put me down as your beneficiary, well, that just sealed things, babe. The only reason I’m still with you was for the money. Once you’re gone, I’ll be a very, very, rich man.”

Terror gripped her insides, and a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “I loved you. Why are you doing this?”

“Love? You don’t love anyone but your daddy, babe, but Daddy can’t help you now. Spoiled little rich bitch.” He paced several steps away before he turned and spat, “You had everything. Every fucking thing was handed to you with a silver spoon, and I had nothing! My parents scraped by, and most of the time, we never had enough food to even eat dinner each night. I had to practically steal my way through college, barely able to afford tuition and books, but now I’ll have it all.” His last parting remarks sent chills through her. “Your blood won’t be on my hands. After all, you fell to your death here in the canyon.” Rich laughter bounced off the red rocks around her, echoing long after he disappeared from her sight.

Gut-wrenching sobs shook her frame as the sun started to make a slow trek across the sky above her. The perfect baby blue sky did nothing to calm her while she waited. Condors screeched overhead, and she laughed almost hysterically, wondering if she was already becoming delirious.

That’s all I need, some carnivorous bird picking at my bones, stealing my flesh as I wither away and die.

Blood trickled from the cut on the back of her head, caking in her brown hair and plastering it to her scalp in a glob of stickiness that almost made her retch. Her fair skin burned from the heat of the sun, pulling it tight across her cheeks. Lips began to crack from lack of water, and her throat felt parched with thirst. The backpack she’d brought had disappeared with her
husband.

I’ll kill that son-of-a-bitch when I get my hands on him.

Guessing an hour or so had passed since Eric disappeared, she concentrated on moving her legs.

I have to get out of here. I’m not going to let him get away with this. Fucking bastard! There is no way in hell I’m dying on some ledge on the side of this canyon.

She bit her lip, closed her eyes and forced her legs to move. Tears sprang to her eyes again when her limbs moved slightly, and she felt the scrape of something in her back pocket.

My cell phone.

A chuckle bubbled in her chest and burst from her lips.

You’ll pay for this, Eric. So help me God, you’ll pay for this.

Slowly, she slid her hand behind her and wiggled her fingers into her back pocket, trying desperately to grab her phone. After several minutes, she finally dragged it from behind her and prayed it still worked.

With shaking hands, she flipped it open and stared at the screen.

Yes! Thank you, God!

Bloody fingers hit nine-one-one and she prayed there was enough coverage to get the call through.

“911. What’s your emergency?” the female voice asked on the other end.

“Help me,” Whitney whispered, trying to focus on the phone.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, can you hear me? Where are you?”

“I’m on a ledge on the south rim of the canyon. I fell down an incline and I’m hurt.”

“I’m dispatching rescue. Stay with me. It will help them find you. What’s your name?”

“Whitney.”

“Where are you from, Whitney?”

“Los Angeles. I came up here with my husband.”

“Where’s he now? Is he hurt, too?”

“I don’t know where he is, but no, he’s not hurt.”

I’m not telling anyone about what Eric did. I’ll take him down myself.

“Can you tell me more about where you are exactly so rescue can find you easier?”

Focus, Whit.

“Um, Grandview Trail, I think. We hiked down a ways.”

“Okay. I’ll tell the rescue guys. You’ve got some of the best of our crews coming after you. Do you have water?”

“No.”

“Keeping talking, Whitney. It will keep you alert.”

“Thanks.”

“When you see the rescue guys, tell Ryan hi for me, would you?”

“Ryan?”

“Yeah, he’ll probably be the one who gets to you first. He’s just that way. He’s the best rescue climber we have.”

“God, I hurt.”

“I know, Whitney. Hang in there with me. They’ll be there soon. I promise.”

“I’m trying.”

After what seemed like hours talking to the dispatcher, telling her everything from how old she was to where she grew up, Whitney heard the tinkling of climbing gear above her head.

“Whitney? Whitney, can you hear me?” a deep, male voice yelled over the ledge.

She cleared her throat and licked her parched lips. “Yes.”

“I’m coming down. Cover your head if you can, in case the rocks break loose.”

Several rocks came down, but nothing got close.

Black boots crunched in the gravel when they hit the ground off to her right.

“I’m down,” he yelled up to what she assumed was the rest of the rescue crew. His rope harness tinkled when he unhooked his belt, moved closer and bent down next to her. His hands skimmed over her limbs quickly as he grunted in concentration.

“Ryan?” she asked, frowning when his hazel eyes stopped on her face and she noticed the small laugh lines at the corners. She couldn’t tell how tall he was from his crouched position, but he had muscles in all the right places. Short black hair looked soft, curling slightly around his ears, and full lips completed the picture.

A quick flash of white teeth and he answered, “Yeah. How’d you guess?”

“The dispatcher said you’d be the first one here.”

“Must have been Rosie.”

“I think so.”

His lips pressed into a thin line when his gaze swept over her again.

“Is it bad?”

“At least one leg is more than likely broken. Can you move at all?”

“A little.”

“Don’t try. You may do more damage if you do.”

“Are you a paramedic?”

“Yep.”

“Hey, Ryan! What’cha got?” another voice called from above.

“Send down the basket and another man. I need some help moving her.”

“On the way.”

He covered her with his body and crouched low as he leaned close, protecting her from any falling debris. The green material of his jumpsuit almost touched her nose, giving her a clear view of the stitching around the patch on his chest.

“So, Whitney. Where’re you from?” The deep baritone of his voice helped her focus on getting out of here and not on how she got there in the first place.

She exhaled forcibly on a rush. “Los Angeles.”

“Out here for vacation?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“What a vacation.”

A soft chuckle left her mouth. With a shift of her hips, she groaned when sharp, stabbing pain zipped along her head and back. Her fingers dug into the dry dirt under her hand.

“Where do you hurt?”

“My head and my leg.”

“Do you need something for pain?”

“Yeah.”

Even through the latex gloves he wore, she could feel warm fingers press along her scalp, but when he reached the spot in the back, she whimpered. Spots formed in front of her eyes, and little stars zipped through her vision.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered and closed her eyes. “I think there’s a pretty nasty cut back there, and it’s painful. I can feel wetness oozing through my hair.”

The cool swipe of something on her arm brought her gaze back to his.

“Morphine. It’ll help with the pain.”

She nodded slightly, but winced when the needle pricked her skin. “I hate needles.”

“Me, too.”

“You’re a paramedic. How can you hate needles?”

“I don’t stick myself. I stick other people.”

Focusing on his face for a second, she frowned when his mouth lifted at the corners in a small smile.

The basket banged against the rock nearby right before another set of boots hit the dirt.

“Backboard?” the other man asked.

“Yes. Her leg is probably fractured, and we need to stabilize her back and neck,” Ryan answered, his penetrating look sweeping her face before he asked, “Do you hurt anywhere else?”

“No.”

“Good.”

The board appeared next to her, and she looked up into the baby face of her other rescuer.

“Cale, meet Whitney. Whitney, this is Cale,” Ryan said, introducing her like they were on a Sunday picnic.