Chapter 18

“Dare?” Shock punched through her body. His little motorboat bobbing on the South Pacific swells as he’d left flashed into her mind. She’d seen his boat reach the cruise ship.

She felt like she was watching a familiar rerun, but the storyline had abruptly changed.

He stood there, staring at her, his chest rising and falling as his lungs pulled in oxygen raggedly.

His eyes widened a fraction. The words shot from him in stark demand. “Are you okay?”

She nodded until she found words. “Except for the fact that we’re in the middle of Hurricane Pissy Bitch, yeah.” She swallowed, unsure of what was going on and how in the world he was standing here, right in front of her. “Are you? Okay, I mean?”

He nodded curtly, but she saw a sheen of emotion in his eyes.

Intensity. Warmth.

Relief.

She scrambled to her feet, palmed the last remnants of wetness from her face, and scowled. “No one’s here. They left.”

“I know.” He stood there, still staring and motionless.

Suddenly a section of tent gave way, veered crazily toward him and collapsed, the support striking him in the face.

“Dare!” Jumping to grab the lightweight material, she bunched the wet canvas in her hands, and jerked it off him. He fought his way out and the segment of fabric flew freely in the wind, the rest of the tent holding behind him.

Then Dare seized her, knocked the breath out of her and yanked her into his arms.

She couldn’t break free if she’d wanted to.

He mashed her against him and held her tight. Hard. Then after long moments his hand reached up, started smoothing her hair messily against her scalp. “Shit. Abby.”

The emotion pouring from him overwhelmed her, and her legs felt like jelly. Perhaps it was just the relief of not being alone in this tropical hellhole, but it felt so good to have someone here.

No.

It was good to have him here.

Dare.

Surrounded by his strength, she drank him in. The pounding of his heart against her breasts, its thudding mirrored in the racing pulse at his temple.

But the wind was howling out there, and this wasn’t the time for a lengthy embrace.

With great effort she pulled herself back and examined him.

He framed her face with his hands, turning her this way, that. Scrutinizing her forehead, cheeks. Every inch of her face. His voice broke. “I’m so glad you’re okay. God, if anything…”

He pulled his hand away suddenly, grimacing at the blood that was smeared on it from her scalp, hidden inside the mess of her hair. “You’re hurt!”

It was too much. The storm, his reappearance, his overriding concern. She tried to wrench herself away, get back to normalcy, if there was such a thing. But he had some kind of crazy, super-strength going. He wasn’t going to let her get away.

“When did this happen?” He pushed her hair aside, inspecting the wound feverishly as he sucked in a breath. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Suddenly, it was all too weird. She twisted out of his grasp. “I’m alright. No big deal.”

His eyes widened as though she’d asserted the Pope wasn’t Catholic and never had been. “The hell you’re okay. Let me see that.”

She shook her head. A cut on the head was trivial compared to someone materializing out of an insane storm.

She hauled herself back a step, pointed a shaking finger at him. “I saw you leave. You got on the ship.” It almost sounded like an accusation, but she was past worrying about the niceties. Way past. “What are you doing back here?”

He took a step toward her. “I came back. Grabbed a tender.” Emotion pitched in his face. “I came back for you, Abby.”

She watched in shock and horror as tears tracked down his cheek.

Dare slapped the tears away with the back of his hand. “I’ve got so much to apologize for. But when I saw the storm had shifted back this way and was blasting Chandelle, I jumped in one of the boats and came back. I couldn’t leave. I had to make sure you were okay.”

He’d come back for her.

What?

Dare scrutinized the space around them. “Where are the others? Why aren’t you with them?”

The wind howled around them, slapped at the tent. But suddenly in her mind’s eye everything stilled around them, went into slow motion.

She couldn’t bear that she had to tell him the awful truth, so she spit the words out quickly. “They left, went to your ship. He was supposed to tell me they were evacuating.”

A punch of shock on his face. “What?”

“He didn’t tell me. They left…” And she couldn’t finish.

“Without you? Tell me!”

It still dazed her and put her into another reality to say the words. “He didn’t tell me. He just left.”

Dare’s hands clenched and his eyes narrowed to angry slits. “We’re going to get through this. And when it’s over…”

There was no mistaking the intent in those storm-darkened eyes.

But she was still dazed, as the collapsed tent corner flapped wildly around them, the wind violent in its rage as it tried to flatten everything.

Dare seemed to come out of his anger, catapult into take-charge mode. “We have to get out of here. This thing isn’t going to hold up much longer.”

Fear was raw in her mouth. “If we go out there, we’ll die.” Was that really a possibility? What the hell was she saying?

“There’s no way we can stay here. The corner’s down already. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I’m scared, Dare. I’m…not sure I can.” Horror coiled in her stomach, a partner with the nausea and bitterness rising in her throat.

“You have to be safe.” His gaze softened momentarily, the light crinkles around his eyes reminding her of times she’d been in his arms, when he’d blocked the whole world out and she was all he saw.

Then his expression turned fierce. “I came back for you, and I’m not leaving without you. We’re in this together.” He scanned the area quickly. “You want to die here? Fine. We’ll die together then. With my body over yours, protecting you from flying junk. So be it. Let’s find a good spot, and I’ll build what might be our last shelter.” Unzipping his windbreaker, he rolled his shoulders, bent to his task, and started shoving heavy boxes into a pattern.

The screaming of the wind accelerated and icy streamers of rain clawed at her, hurtling through the widening gaps in the canvas.

He was right. This wasn’t safe. Dare had always been a master survivalist. Now, he was a soldier, plus a firefighter. If there was anyone she could trust, it was him.

Funny how she never thought she’d be using those two words in the same sentence again. She made a split-second decision. “Let’s go!” she yelled.

He hadn’t heard her. Flashing a quick smile at her he waved her closer, pointing to something he’d found. His reshuffling of boxes had revealed a metal contraption buried in the sand, framework that the gear was stacked around. “Look at this. This can help us. We can…”

The wind whipped up, and the tent collapsed around them.