Christina Skye

To Catch a Thief


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      But Nell wasn’t a skittish child and she didn’t take orders from strangers.

      She yawned. Even as she struggled to keep her eyes open, she couldn’t ignore the hard lines of Dakota Smith’s thighs. The man had a great body, and the warm strength of his arms was like a dangerous drug.

      She felt the hammer of his heart beneath her cheek, felt the rise and fall of his broad chest. Even his scent teased her, a blend of salty air, sweat and heather.

      As he stretched slightly, Nell felt his thighs tighten against her, and his arms shifted to hold her steady. Though they were thigh to thigh, chest to chest, he didn’t brush her breasts or make suggestive comments.

      Life seemed small and very fragile as they waited out the storm’s fury. Idly Nell rubbed her elbow, which had begun to ache. Might as well try to sleep until the storm ended, since they were going nowhere.

      She closed her eyes, feeling her hips slide over his thighs. The man had excellent thighs, too.

      Maybe sleep wasn’t going to be so easy.

      “So what do you do when you’re not on a climbing vacation?” she muttered. Anything to distract her from the feel of his lean, sculpted muscles.

      “My job keeps me busy.”

      “Before we went down, Jess told me that you’re amazing. I’ve never seen a kid in such an advanced state of hero worship. This is probably a walk in the park for you, Lieutenant.”

      “I never take any threat for granted,” he said roughly. “That includes weather and people.”

      Was there an edge in his voice? Nell opened one eye, but in the darkness she couldn’t read his expression.

      His arm cradled her head. His chest was warm and he seemed calm, but absolutely distant.

      Probably she’d been wrong about the edge in his voice.

      Quietly, he slid free. “Time to check on Amanda.”

      “HOW IS SHE?” Nell was feeling a little blurry when he returned. Actually a lot blurry. A wave of dizziness hit her. She had forgotten the adrenaline spikes of rescue work—and the inevitable crash.

      “Her pulse is stronger. Right now I’ll take small favors. The cardiac patient is holding on, too.” With economical movements, Dakota sat down and drew her against him, covering them both.

      She tried to focus, but the growl of the wind was distracting. “So what made you decide to be a hero, Lieutenant?”

      “I just happened to be around when you needed me. It’s nothing heroic.”

      Nell studied his face as he switched on a small penlight. “When did you start your climb? I never saw you before today.” She angled her head, trying to read the expression in his eyes. The man didn’t reveal anything, she thought irritably.

      “I arrived yesterday. I’ve been on the move.”

      It made sense. As he pulled her closer, the soothing warmth of his body made her relax.

      The man would make a fantastic climbing partner, she decided.

      The penlight flashed off. Rough fingers opened on her hair. “What are you thinking about?”

      “I figure you have great deltoids,” Nell said sleepily. “That’s always the first thing I look for in a man.”

      “You look for his deltoids?” He sounded amused.

      “Absolute first thing.” Nell yawned. “Always look for the deltoids. Best way to judge climbing strength. How long can you hang, hands only, unassisted?”

      “Seventy-one minutes.” His breath was warm against her ear. “More or less.”

      Even in a growing haze of cold and exhaustion, Nell was impressed. “No way. Not for over an hour.” Nobody could do that. At least nobody that she knew.

      “I could be lying,” he said calmly.

      Nell didn’t think so. He didn’t strike her as the type for casual boasts. In fact, nothing about the man seemed casual. “What exactly do you do in the navy?”

      “This and that. Nothing you’d be interested in.” His hands slid slowly into her hair. Nell felt the strands spill over his fingers.

      At every movement, she was stunned to feel little jolts of desire. The heat grew where their bodies were joined.

      Crazy. They were camped on the edge of a cliff and he was a complete stranger.

      But the heat didn’t go away. His hands kept moving, slow and thoughtful, until Nell thought she’d scream.

      Or curl up against his chest and sigh in noisy pleasure.

      She frowned. She knew better than to relax or trust a stranger even if the gentle motion of his hands was hypnotic. “The tents are taking a beating. I need to go check to see if they—”

      “Already done. The lines you rigged are solid. Nice work.”

      “Two of my best ropes are out there,” she said sleepily. “I’ve got trail mix and three protein bars in my left pocket,” she added. “Take them if you need to.”

      “I’ll be fine. Go to sleep, Nell.”

      She wasn’t used to being taken care of. It had been years since her father—

      Don’t go there.

      The past was a sinkhole filled with bad memories. And this man was still a stranger. She wiggled, trying to find a position that wasn’t starkly intimate, with their shoulders touching and their thighs locked together for warmth. Finally she gave up.

      It was just one night, after all. She’d never see this man and his powerful body again. There was no chance for mingled laughter or shared secrets.

      And that was exactly the way Nell wanted it.

      She twisted, shoving away his hands as she closed her eyes. “Just don’t get any ideas while I’m asleep,” she said huskily. “That cliff wall is only a few feet away. You wouldn’t like the drop.”

      She thought she heard his quiet laugh before she drifted off with the howl of the wind in her ears.

      NELL FELT the wind in her hair.

      Hands sweaty, she was chalking up before her last climb of the day. The sun lay hot and heavy on her shoulders in a band of liquid gold. Body straining, muscles in the flow while Yosemite spread out like a Technicolor postcard.

      Beautiful.

      Then the sudden hiss of falling rope. A violent jerk as a cam broke free, slamming her into a wall of granite, breaking her nose and cheekbone, blood gushing onto her neck.

      The sound of her own scream jerked her upright in the icy darkness.

      “Nell, wake up.”

      Lines broken. Carabiners blown. Falling, falling…

      “Hey, wake up.” Hard hands locked around her shoulders.

      She fought blindly, her nails raking warm skin.

      Panic. Falling…

      “Stop fighting, Nell. It’s Dakota. You’re just dreaming. Something about Yosemite, but it’s over now. Calm down and breathe.”

      Breathe.

      Nell forced her muscles to loosen.

      Just another dream. Always about falling, somewhere alone in the darkness…

      She took a deep breath and shoved a damp clump of hair from her eyes. “Okay, back among the living—more or less. Thanks for the wake-up call. What time is it anyway?”

      “Almost five. Should be light soon. You okay now?”

      Nell straightened the small