Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
He’d considered killing her when he first realized she had performed CPR on him, when he saw the realization on her face that she was most likely infected. She hadn’t panicked the way he’d expected. It had thrown her, but she’d remained clearheaded. She’d worked with him in the river against their common enemy. She thought herself squeamish, but even when the dead man had stared at her, she hadn’t bailed. She’d forced herself to stay still, not giving away their position.
Yeah. He liked her. He could even admit he was attracted to her. He’d never had any shortage of women, but that was all physical. A release. Nothing more. He found it ironic that when he was going to die, he met a woman. Maybe the woman. She was smart. Funny. Brave. And damned good-looking. She laughed at herself. In the middle of the worst nightmare possible, she laughed at herself.
And made him laugh too.
Draden rinsed out his clothes and hung them on the porch to dry. It was hot enough that, despite the humidity, it shouldn’t take too long. The ranger had left a change of clothes, but they were too small. There was no way to improvise. His head hurt like a mother, so he sat on the mattress and laid his head against the wall, closing his eyes. Just for a minute.
He had to be prepared to take care of Shylah. She was just now allowing herself to fully realize the implications of being infected. If she tried to run … He shut down the possibility of that. He knew, if she was suffering, he would have no problem ending her life, but to kill her because she was afraid … Maybe there was another way, he just had to think of it.
“Draden.”
That voice. Soft. Gentle. Magical. She had a magical voice. He tried to answer her, but his head pounded, trying to drown out the music of her voice.
“Draden. I’m going to wash that cut again and butterfly stitch it. It’s nasty and needs to be taken care of. Please don’t hit me or anything.”
He forced his lashes to lift. She was close. Her face right next to his. Her mouth. That perfect bow of a mouth. Full lips. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose. Long lashes and dark chocolate eyes. He caught her hand before she touched his face, shaking his head.
“Wait. We don’t know for certain if you’re infected. I hate that you saved my life and because of that you’re at risk. You should wear a mask. You can’t leave, but maybe if we’re careful, we can reduce the risk to you.” He wasn’t giving her the best of chances, but again, there was a possibility. Unless Trap and Wyatt could come up with something, she was as good as dead.
She smiled at him, sitting on the edge of the bed looking like a million dollars. “This was my choice, Draden. You aren’t responsible. I didn’t have to dive into that river after you. The MSS was on your tail and I still interfered. I blew my cover by going in after you. I could have died right then from a bullet.”
“Shylah, there’s a big difference between taking a bullet and being infected with a hemorrhagic virus.”
She shrugged. “Whitney plants viruses in us to force us to return home. The three virologists who cooked up this crap worked for him, created viruses aimed at killing us if we ‘defected.’ I knew sooner or later I wouldn’t return, and I’d die from whatever they put in me. According to Whitney, we would die a very painful and horrible death, yet I always knew I would choose to live free for a while, even if it was only for a couple of weeks, and I’d die that painful and horrible death. So don’t kick yourself too hard. None of this is on you.”
“I could fall in love with you.” He meant it to sound humorous, but it was too close to the truth. She refused to play the victim. His entire life had been one serious fucked-up fiasco. Now, at the end of it, he’d finally met a woman he admired.
“Since no one’s ever fallen in love with me, I think now’s a good time. I can go out knowing someone thought I was worth that.”
She turned her head away from him, so he couldn’t see her expression, but her tone caught at his heart. He hadn’t known he had a heart, but it was evident by the way it ached for her that it was there somewhere. She already had a small tray ready with the tape and gauze and she turned back, looking at the wound, not at him. Her hands were gentle as she smeared on antibiotic ointment and then began to close the laceration.