Cornered. HelenKay Dimon

off all the terror and violence. Mr. Tall, Dark and Oh-So-Good-Looking beside her needed to step up and help on that score.

      “Say something.” She issued the order and then went back to stepping over mounds of this and that on the ground.

      He shot her a side glance before returning to his never-ending scan of the area around them. “Your shirt is bright purple.”

      Not exactly what she’d had in mind, but the comment was potentially annoying and right now she’d take that over noticing his firm jaw and general hotness. “You’re critiquing my wardrobe?”

      “I was hoping you’d pick something that blended in.”

      A solid response, but not a request she could make happen. “Every shirt I own is a bright color.”

      He looked at her again, but this time his gaze lingered. “Why?”

      “Because I’m tired of blending in.” She’d spent her entire youth trying not to draw her father’s attention at the wrong time. Since he drank almost nonstop, that had turned out to be always.

      But she was an adult now and refused to be defined by her father’s issues. She just wished she’d been stronger on that point and had confronted him before he fell out of his boat, hit his head and died. His death left her with a mix of guilt and regret and more than a little bit of anger over all she had lived through and the baggage she still carried around.

      Cam shrugged. “I thought you picked it because you looked so good in bold colors. They suit you.”

      Her sneaker slipped and she lost her footing. One wrong step and she turned her ankle as she bit back a string of profanity.

      “You okay?” He faced her with both hands on her forearms.

      She bit her lip. It was either that or grimace. “Yeah.”

      “Julia, I need to know the truth here.” His expression went blank and his voice grew serious. “I can always carry you, if needed.”

      “That is not going to happen.” She balanced her body against his, digging her fingernails into his arms as she shook out the sore ankle.

      “You sure?”

      “It’s just a twinge.” One that made her vision blink out for a second and her head spin.

      When she moved her foot to the right, pain screamed through her. She’d done this a million times. Years ago she’d stopped running because of weak ankles. Well, that and because of her absolute hatred of running. But she knew the pain would ease if she stayed off it for a few hours and iced it down. She sensed neither was an option.

      “By your own calculations we have about a mile and a half left to go.” He looked up. “Daylight will fade and the ferry schedule will get in our way.”

      “Can we flag down a car?” A risky thought with gunmen racing around, she knew, but it was an option. Cam with all his superhero skills might be able to tell a legitimate driver from an undercover gunman. At least she hoped so.

      He stared at her in that way a man did when he thought a woman had lost her mind. “In a tree?”

      For a second she forgot he didn’t know the area. Despite the could-charm-any-woman dimple and cute face, he fit in here. Had an outdoorsy look to him, and his clothes blended in. Certainly better than she did.

      “There’s a dirt road for emergency vehicle use only. The wildlife enforcement guys and police travel it.” As soon as she said that last part, an alarm bell rang in her head.

      “I’m not exactly looking for a run-in with more police or people pretending to be police.” His fingers squeezed around her arms, then eased again. “But if the path is clearer you’ll have an easier time, so we can try it.”

      Last thing she wanted to do was drag the danger out. Sooner or later the ankle had to go numb anyway. “I can keep going.”

      One of his eyebrows lifted. “Your choice is the emergency road or I throw you over my shoulder.”

      The shoulders, the face, the general hotness—she liked it all. The bossiness? Not so much. “You need to work on your negotiation skills.”

      “Why? I just won, didn’t I?” He guided her to an overturned log and helped her sit down.

      Before she could say anything or think of a comeback, he dropped to one knee with his hands up her pants leg. Warm hands slid along her calf, then down to the top of her short socks. With a gentle touch he rotated her ankle one way, then the other.

      The whole thing left her breathless. She didn’t even scream when the sharp shock of pain radiated up her leg. For a guy who could turn and shoot without blinking, he could soothe by the simple touch of skin to skin.

      She swore her vision blurred a little as she watched him, but somehow she found her voice again. “You could leave me here and go get the FBI.”

      “Tempting.” He shot her a smile that could melt butter.

      “We can’t take the shoe off or it will swell.” She was just babbling now.

      “I know.” He stood up and held out a hand toward her. “Come on.”

      She struggled to stand and almost called a halt to the whole project until he put her arm around his neck. The move let her fall into his side with him shouldering most of her weight and not putting any but the barest bit on the toes of her hurt foot.

      “Better?” he asked.

      This close she could smell him. A mix of wind and woods. Very compelling and weird, since smelling guys was not really her thing. She worked in an office and answered phones. She dated, but not much since breaking up with the accountant who had waffled between boring her and scaring her as he drank scotch after scotch after dinner each night.

      She managed to nod. Not that Cam waited for her to be healed or even ready. He had them moving again, this time at a slower pace, but not by much. They wound around piles of rock and across fallen branches.

      With each step, the end of his gun dug deeper into her side. She didn’t complain, because he was almost carrying her, all while watching the area and stopping every few minutes to check for something only he could hear.

      When they reached the dirt road about ten minutes later, she slumped even harder against him in relief. “Here it is.”

      “This?”

      She couldn’t really fault the disbelief in his voice. She looked first down one side, then the other. The path was overgrown in parts. In others she could see the faint outline of tire tracks. But mostly they looked at mud and stones. Pretty big stones.

      But she couldn’t come up with another option. All the roads, some better than others, required a hike. Some of them serious hikes, complete with rappelling. She could barely walk. Jumping up and down mountains was out.

      “It’s the best I could do on short notice,” she joked even though there was nothing amusing about their current situation.

      He stared at her for a second as if trying to figure out her mood, then nodded. “This should be a bit more stable for you.”

      She didn’t see how, but now wasn’t really the time to argue. “Sure.”

      She moved away from him and put some weight on the sore ankle. It felt all twingey and only a few steps from shattering, but she tried to trick her mind into thinking it was no big deal. “I’m fine.”

      “That’s convincing.” He reached out and this time it looked as if he planned to carry her. “Come on.”

      The rumbling broke her concentration. The grinding of an engine and thumping and thudding as the wheels covered the trail. She’d never been so grateful to hear a vehicle. “A car is coming.”

      He stood stock-still. “No.”

      “What?”

      “Truck.”