For ? ve minutes the only sound in the small tent was the rasp of their arduous
breathing. Then Dev sat up, fumbled in the dark, and ? nally turned on a
battery-powered lantern. The tent roof and sides billowed in and out as if it
were a living, breathing organism.
“Some storm,” Dev muttered, setting the light on the metal lid of a cooking pot
in one corner of the tent.
“Uh-huh,” Leslie said.
Dev pulled off her anorak and spread it out in one corner. “You shouldn’t have
come.”
With a grunt of effort, Leslie rolled onto her side to face Dev.
Although generously called a four-person tent, the tent was designed for two
people to sleep with just enough space on either side for a little bit of gear. Dev
had obviously brought all of her critical equipment inside, because there was
barely room for the two of them on the sleeping bag.
And that was taking into account the fact that the steel toe of one of Dev’s spare
boots was pressed into Leslie’s backside.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, all hell is breaking loose out there,”
Leslie said.
Dev glared. “My point precisely. That was a crazy stunt. Here, let me have your
jacket.”
Leslie handed Dev her wet rain gear. “If the weathermen had been
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WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
even close to accurate, we should’ve had enough time to get back to the
mainland.”
“And when have you ever known that to happen?” Dev leaned down on one
elbow, the length of her body stretched out beside Leslie.
Leslie hesitated. “Point taken.” When Dev smiled, she said more softly, “I really
thought we had another hour or two.”
“I should say thanks for coming,” Dev said quietly, “but I’m still too terri? ed to
be gracious.”
“Terri? ed?” Leslie arched a brow.
“I was worried about you.” Dev touched a bruise on Leslie’s forehead. “Looks
like you got clobbered with something.”
“A branch, I think.” Leslie traced a ? ngertip over Dev’s cheek.
“You’re bleeding.”
Dev snorted and rubbed the blood away on her sleeve. “We’re a mess.” She
shivered violently. “And it’s getting cold. We need to get out of these clothes.”
“I don’t have spares.”
“You can wear some of mine.”
Leslie sat up and wrapped her arms around her torso. “Do you have a ? rst aid
kit? We ought to clean that scrape on your face.”
“The scratch won’t kill me. Let’s get dry ? rst.”
“Good idea.” Leslie glanced around the interior of the tent while Dev pulled a
duffel into her lap and unzipped it. There was absolutely no possibility of
privacy. Well, that shouldn’t matter. They were both adults and this was an
emergency. Still, Leslie’s throat was irrationally dry. She’d never seen Dev
naked. They hadn’t been in the same phys.
ed. class in high school, and Dev hadn’t played any organized sports.
There’d never been any reason to undress in the locker room in front of one
another.
“Here’s a sweatshirt and jeans. They’ll ? t you.” Dev handed over the clothes,
piled similar items at her feet for herself, and began unlacing her boots. Without
looking at Leslie, she continued, “I’ve got socks for you but no dry boots.”
“Thanks.” Leslie decided that speed was the best option and hurriedly pulled
her top and bra off together in one quick motion. She was soaked to the skin.
“God, this is miserable.”
“Here’s a towel for your hair. It’s the only one, so we’ll have to sha—” The
words died in Dev’s throat as she half turned to hand Leslie
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RADCLY fFE
the towel. Leslie’s arms were extended over her head with the dry sweatshirt
partway down. Her breasts were full and pale, her nipples puckered from the
cold. Even in the lamplight, Dev could see the bluish tint to her skin. “Jesus, Les.
You’re freezing.”
“I’m just—” Leslie went still, staring at Dev between the triangle of her raised
arms as Dev leaned toward her.
Rising to her knees, Dev rapidly wrapped the towel she still held in her hands
around Leslie’s chest and began to rub her vigorously.
“Christ, you’re shaking.”
It wasn’t from the cold. Even through the towel, Leslie could feel Dev’s hands
on her. Her brain told her that Dev was just drying her off, but her body
translated the movements into something quite different. She felt Dev’s palms
cup her breasts and Dev’s thumbs ? ick her nipples. Against her will she arched
her back, lifting her breasts and hips, seeking more contact. Her thighs and
pelvis nestled into Dev.
Leslie caught back a gasp. “You’re wet too. You need to get out of that shirt
and your jeans.”
“In a minute,” Dev muttered, leaning closer to reach Leslie’s back.
“Almost done.”
Leslie couldn’t tolerate the contact any longer. She either needed more, much
more, or she needed to get away from the heat of Dev’s body and the ? re that
ignited everywhere that Dev touched her. She yanked the sweatshirt down over
her head, and once her hands were free, pushed the towel and Dev away. “Get
dry, Dev.”
Startled by the irritation in Leslie’s voice, Dev stared at the towel in her hands,
then into Leslie’s eyes. Leslie’s pupils were wide and dark, as if she were very
angry or very aroused. Dev wondered what secrets her own eyes revealed,
because while she’d been preoccupied taking care of Leslie, she hadn’t allowed
herself to consider what she’d been touching. But now, even when there was no
contact at all between them, she could feel the weight of Leslie’s breasts in her
hands. She wanted to touch them again. “Take off your pants and get into the
sleeping bag.”
Leslie waited until Dev had turned her back to remove her shirt before unzipping
her own jeans, struggling out of them and her panties, and climbing into the
sleeping bag. Much as she had when Dev had cooked in the kitchen the
previous week, Leslie watched the muscles in Dev’s back ? ex and ripple as she
dried her hair and chest. But in
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