brain was still full of cobwebs, though it was getting clearer. She needed to get to Flore and Garfield. But first, she needed her clothes.
And it would be nice if her muscles worked.
Dan stepped out onto the shelf of rock that led to the sand, and slipped from her view. She heard nothing but the brush of waves against the shore, and something irrational made her twitch with the fear that he wouldn’t return. She focused on her breath until he reappeared several minutes later. Light was quickly filling the sky in the lead-up to sunrise, and she could already make out more of his features. At some point, he’d washed or rubbed the camo paint from his face.
He was even more handsome than she remembered.
“Our clothes are still damp, so I laid them out to dry,” he said.
She could only nod.
“I’m going to retrieve my gear. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He shucked his boxers and strode toward the sea, giving her a fabulous view of his glutes in the faint, golden light of the rising sun. She could just make out the small pair of green footprints tattooed on his butt. As far as she could tell, the ritual PJ tattoo was still his only body art.
From her vantage point inside the shelter she didn’t have a clear view to the water, so when he hadn’t returned after five minutes, she began to worry. Willing some of her strength back, she chafed her arms and legs to warm her muscles and give her something to do to keep her mind off Dan.
She crawled through the opening and gripped the rough wall. Just as she pushed to her feet, he returned, his oversized backpack held in front of him. Breathing a sigh of relief, she sagged against the rock and watched as he set down the bag, seemingly indifferent to his nakedness. She averted her eyes, keeping them fixed—mostly—on the undulating waves as he used his hands to brush the excess water from his deeply tanned skin, and donned his underwear.
Reaching down, he unhooked something from the back of the bag and held up her dripping wet sneakers. “Here, I rescued these. My boots too,” he said, setting them in the sand. “They probably won’t dry before we need to leave, but it’ll beat walking barefoot.”
If he hadn’t already been her hero, he was now.
Now that she was outside, she could see that he’d spread out their clothes on several fern plants a few feet from the cave, and weighed them down with small stones, presumably so they wouldn’t blow away.
“Any sign of Frederick’s men?” she asked.
“Not so far, but we need to be alert. They know who you are. They think they can get your dad to pay two million for you. They’ll be back.”
She scowled. Her only value was in her dad’s bank accounts. Just like always. “How soon can we leave?” Her anxiety over Flore and Garfield grew with every passing minute.
She gripped the wall as a wave of dizziness hit her.
“Hey,” Dan stepped toward her with his arms outstretched.
“I’m fine.” She waved him off and sat on a raised ledge that ran along the cliff. “Just tired.”
He began pulling things from his bag and laying them on the rock. “And probably hungry and dehydrated too,” he said.
“I could use a drink.” She admired the view as his muscles flexed and contracted. Just because she couldn’t have him, didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy watching him.
“Here.” He handed her a canteen that felt at least half full. It was dripping with seawater, but the screw top appeared airtight. “Drink as much as you want, but go slowly.”
She had to smile. Had he forgotten she was a nurse? “Thank you.” She sipped greedily, happy to quench the bone-deep thirst, but careful not to take in too much at once. After drinking a couple of ounces, she set the bottle down and forced herself to wait to make sure her stomach didn’t rebel.
Dan pulled a shiny square from his backpack and used his knife to slit open the clear plastic pouch. Unfurling the Mylar blanket, he draped it over her