Raiders of the Lost Heart(52)

Snap!

Corrie froze and turned off her light. Someone . . . something was there.

Uh-oh . . . maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Ocelot? Puma? Please, not an actual jaguar. It was one thing to run from a jaguarundi during the day. Another entirely to run from a jaguar at night. She hid behind a tree, listening to the shuffling of leaves and branches coming her direction. Closer. Closer. She closed her eyes, trying to meditate and slow her breathing.

“Corrie?”

Ford?

Her eyes shot open and she moved out from behind the tree, right into the beam of Ford’s flashlight. She shielded her face from the light and flashed her own at him.

“Corrie, what the hell are you doing out here?”

The truth wasn’t an option. The truth could get her taken off this job.

“I . . . I needed some fresh air.”

Believable. Real believable.

“Fresh air? Corrie, please tell me you weren’t doing what I think you were doing?” When she didn’t respond, he sighed. “You can’t go out there. Not alone and definitely not in the middle of the night. Do you know how dangerous this is?”

She opened her mouth to deny his accusation, but what could she really say? She was obsessed with Chimalli. There really was only one possible explanation for her being out here.

“I wanted to see it once more before the site is crawling with people.” Her voice pleaded. Ford could understand, right?

“I can’t let you do that. You know the rules.”

“I know, but just the one time. I promise, I won’t mess with anything—”

“Just being there could potentially mess with things. Plus there are snakes and who knows what other creatures out there, which will only be harder to see and protect yourself from in the dark.”

“I’ll be fine. I know how to protect myself.”

“Really? Because you didn’t earlier today.”

Corrie snapped her head back. “I don’t need your protection, Ford. I would have been fine.”

He scoffed. “Oh, we’re doing this again, are we?”

“This?”

“Where you won’t acknowledge needing other people’s help. Because if I remember correctly, you seemed rather grateful for my help earlier today when I was on top of you.”

She glared at him. “Oh, please. I was trying to boost your self-esteem.”

Now he glared back. Sure, it was a low blow, but he was keeping her from going out there.

Crack-snap!

They froze and Ford grabbed Corrie, pulling her behind a tree. “You don’t need to save me again—” Corrie started, but Ford covered her mouth.

“Shh. Someone’s there,” he whispered.

His large body blocked her in against the tree. Close. So close she could almost feel him and the warmth from his body.

“If it’s a person then just tell them it’s us,” Corrie said.

“And then have to explain what we’re doing out here? Or maybe they were up to the same thing as you,” he pointed out.

They stood quietly and listened, hearing voices getting closer. And closer.

“Are you sure you saw them go this way?” one of the voices asked.

“I’m sure, boss. She got up from dinner and walked into the woods and then he followed a few minutes later. They must be trying to find it in the middle of the night,” the other responded.

“Shit,” Ford whispered, recognizing the voices. “It’s Lance and Guiles. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“So what?” Corrie asked.

“So what? They work for the investor. And sounds like Guiles thinks we’re out here trying to rip him off.”

“What should we do if we find them at the site? Are you going to fire them?” Guiles asked, getting closer and closer to their location.

“Fuck,” Ford said. “Are you happy now? We’re going to get fired.”

No. No, they couldn’t get fired like this. And, if anything, Corrie should be the one to get kicked off the job, not Ford. This was her fault. Had she not snuck into the forest, Ford wouldn’t have followed her. And Lance and Guiles wouldn’t have followed him.

They needed another reason to be out there. Something plausible that wouldn’t get them—or at least Ford—fired.

Quick.

Without further hesitation, Corrie put her hands around Ford’s neck and pulled his face to hers.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Improvising.”

He stared at her for a solid beat before crashing his lips on hers with a feverish fury. This. This was what she’d been waiting for. The kiss that had been eight years coming. The itch that needed scratching.

She tasted him. Tasted his tongue, which wrestled furiously with hers. Tasted his strong, supple lips against hers. But she wanted more. The itch still burned. Still needed satisfying. She let her hands glide down his firm, flexing chest, down his rippled abs, and to his waist, pulling his pelvis closer to hers. Pressing his core against her abdomen. Feeling him grow harder beneath those thick, rigid cargos. He let out a low moan into her mouth, and a smile broke across her lips. He sucked her lower lip before pulling his mouth away and moving to her ear lobe. Pulling. Sucking. Groaning into her ear.

With her backside pressed against the tree, Ford rolled his hips into her, massaging his erection between her legs. She tilted her hips for the perfect angle. The angle that satisfied her as much as him. A little harder. There. Right there.