From his smirk, he knew she was teasing. She didn’t turn away as he peeled off his dark T-shirt. When he tossed it aside, sent her a smoldering look, and went for the zipper on his fatigues, she did moan. A low, deep laugh rumbled from his chest, warming her like a shot of the whiskey she wished she’d brought along.
Daria sat on a big root, eyeing him as removed his pants and rustled through his belongings. The water swirled invitingly as he waded in. Dear Lord, Ryon belonged on one of those hunk-of-the-month calendars. The man possessed a body to rival a Greek god. Silky blond hair brushed his neck. The lean muscles of his back and arms bunched under golden skin. His chiseled butt cried out for her hands.
He waded out until the water lapped at his hips and turned so that she had a great side profile. Then he leaned back and dunked his head, giving her a tantalizing view of his chest and ripped abs.
Ryon straightened and began to lather his hair with a bar of soap she hadn’t noticed in his hand. He repeated the procedure all over his upper body until she actually began to feel envious of the bubbles. He dunked himself twice to rinse, then swiped the water out of his face with his free hand. Without warning, he spun and grinned at her.
“Enjoying the show, baby?”
“I was just scouting the area for danger,” she quipped.
His grin widened into a blinding smile. “Your concern for my safety is heartwarming, but the only dangerous animal around here will be me if you keep eyeballing me like I’m a steak.”
“Deal with it.”
Laughing, he finished up. Then he got out, used the blanket to pat dry, and got dressed. Too bad. She rose from her gnarly perch as he was pulling on a clean shirt, still favoring his side. He donned clean fatigues as well.
“I’d like to wash our dirty clothes before we leave so we can lay them out tonight to dry,” she commented. “No telling when we’ll find another good place to get clean.”
“Good idea.”
Daria discarded her clothing as fast as humanly possible, grabbed the soap, and dashed for the water. She plunged into the pond and faced Ryon, making sure her breasts were well within his appreciative view.
“Oh, it’s so warm!” she called to him. “This feels terrific.”
“Doesn’t it?” He didn’t look like he was thinking about the water as he eyed her.
“I’ll never take my shower at home for granted again.”
He laughed once more. She loved the rich sound. As she scrubbed herself from head to toe, she spent the time contemplating how to get him to do it often. And that voice, made for a darkened bedroom and tangled sheets on a hot summer night? Made her wet.
Rinsing the last of the soap from her body, she pushed her wet hair back and opened her eyes to see Ryon grinning at her like a fool. “Nice show.”
“Hey, no fair!” she squeaked playfully. She smiled back—and then a strange thing happened.
Ryon’s grin withered, and he rose slowly, frowning, looking past her.
“What is it?”
His expression bloomed into a mask of horror, and he yelled at her. “Get out of the water! Get out!”
Ryon stooped, retrieved the knife from his boot and broke into a dead run as Daria spun about. Nothing but a weird ripple in the water, no more than fifteen feet away. No, not just a ripple. More like something gliding, but she couldn’t see what. At first.
“Daria, get out!”
Ben was here. And the beast was in control.
She barely caught the distorted outline of the creature’s huge bulk, then turned and lunged for the bank, too terrified to scream. Her feet slipped on the slimy bottom and she went down. Scrambling, she dug her toes in and shoved forward, heart pounding in her throat. Frantic, she glanced back to see the beast sloshing through the water now, right at her back, jaws gaping. Snaggled, ugly teeth were ready to tear into her skin. She found her voice.
“Ryon!”
He plunged into the water and leapt at the creature, landing on top of it just as it reached her. Daria stumbled onto the bank, panting in fear. Ryon was straddling the monster’s back, his arms wrapped around the large head. The thing had to be more than twice his height, its strength incredible. The beast tried to pull him off, then twisted in a violent roll, over and over, moving Ryon into deeper water where it would attempt to drown him. Or tear him apart.
“Oh my God! Ryon!”
The water churned with the force of their battle. Each time the creature would roll, it held Ryon under longer, wearing him down. Toying with him, it showed a keen intelligence that was more frightening than if it had been blindly slashing at its prey like before. As it flipped Ryon upright, he’d emerge gasping, arms straining to hold on to the beast and the knife.
Desperate, she considered his rifle. No good. She couldn’t shoot the creature without perhaps hitting Ryon. And the bullets would likely have no effect anyway.
The knife flashed in Ryon’s hand. With one mighty lunge, the beast thrashed, dislodging Ryon from his back. And disappeared. Treading water, Ryon sucked in gulps of air, casting about for the beast.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I stabbed it,” he sputtered, chest heaving. “It went under.”
It couldn’t be that easy. Terror rose, for her mate and for Ben. “Hurry and come out of there.” He glanced at her, nodded, and began to swim without a word about her state of undress.
Daria had slipped into a pair of panties and was reaching for her bra when he stopped swimming. “What on earth are you doing?”
Ryon’s body jerked in the water. His eyes widened in disbelief just before he was slammed. He threw back his head and screamed in agony, flailing. Then he was yanked downward, and the water closed over his head. This time he didn’t resurface.
“Ryon?
Daria stood immobile, unable to comprehend for a moment what had just happened. Bubbles rose from the depths, along with a bright stain of blood. So much of it that the entire area where he’d gone under ran completely red. Her stomach clenched, and she fought back the sickness, clamping a hand over her mouth.
“Nooo.” A sob welled in her chest, then another.
Ryon was gone. He’d suffered a horrendous death, and it was her fault for insisting they stop here. For keeping after him until he agreed to help her save Ben—her ex-lover. The man, the creature, who’d murdered him.
Shoulders shaking, she stared out over the water. She didn’t care if Ben came back and ate her as well. Not now. Then, abruptly, the water swirled and Ryon exploded to the surface, choking.
Numb with fear, she ran to meet him as he swam to where he could stand. He staggered toward her, limping badly. She waded out to him, draping one of his arms around her neck and grabbing him around the waist.
Ryon made it to the bank before his knees buckled. She sat beside him, patting his back as he knelt on all fours, coughing and gagging. Ironic, but she’d never beheld a more welcome sight than her mate hacking up his lungs.
“I was scared to death,” she murmured, wiping at her tears. They wouldn’t seem to stop. “I thought you were dead.”
“Me, too,” he rasped. “But I think you would’ve known for sure if I was gone, because our bond would’ve been severed.”
Pausing, she realized the golden thread was still there, humming with life, energy. Letting out a sigh of relief, she nodded. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking straight or I would’ve felt that it was still intact.”
“I lost my knife during that round.”
“All that blood in the water,” she said, shuddering.
“Most of it was his, but I think he still got away. Or he came to himself enough that he let me go.”
