Lifting his arm, he wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled her close. Willingly, wearily, Jess leaned against him, resting her cheek against his collarbone. Her head still throbbed savagely, but she felt calmer now, touching another person, touching him.
"Devlin . . . I'm so sorry . . . for ever dragging you into this mess."
"Don't be, angel. It was my decision."
She gave a ragged sigh as Devlin smoothed her hair gently back from her injured temple.
"Think you can do without a light?" he said after a while. "You were right. . . we'd do better to conserve air."
"I . . . can manage."
He leaned around her and blew out the candle, then settled back again. In the darkness she felt his hand cover hers, linking their fingers.
"This isn't so bad," he murmured. "I could use a good shot of bourbon just now, though."
"So could I."
Devlin chuckled softly. "I swear I'm going to corrupt you yet. Miss Jess."
She shuddered a little at his blithe attitude. "How can you sound so cheerful?"
"Why shouldn't I be? I can think of wors
e things than being stuck in the dark with a beautiful woman."
Amazingly Jess felt herself start to blush.
"I suppose I could try to dig our way out," Devlin remarked unenthusiastically.
"No, you couldn't!" she exclaimed. "You'd use up all the air before you cleared a foot."
"Good. I wasn't looking forward to moving a ton of earth." She felt him hunch his shoulders and roll them around slowly. "My muscles are out of shape after all the easy living I've done. You're in a lot better condition. Perhaps I should make you climb up there and dig."
Incredibly, she almost wanted to laugh at his teasing. How could she possibly think of laughing when they were in such danger? In all likelihood they wouldn't make it. She'd known of too many disasters like this to hold any false hope, known too many men who had been killed . . . crushed or suffocated in caves like this . . . friends, neighbors, her own boarders. She'd seen their cold, stiff bodies laid out for burial. She'd mourned their loss with the families they left behind, shared in the grief. And now that grief would be for her. Would her death devastate Riley the way his death would have done her?
Devlin, however, wasn't going to leave off trying to make her forget their terrible predicament, it seemed.
"Jess, you have a smudge of dirt on your nose."
"What? How can you tell . . . in the dark?"
"I peeked. When we get out of here, I'm going to give you a long bath, Miss Jess. I'll put a ton of bath salts in the water and make you stay there till you turn into a prune." His fingers squeezed her hand. "Then I'm going buy you some hand lotion and rub it all over you. . . . Now there's a thought."
"Do you ever have any thoughts besides lecherous ones?"
"Sometimes on Sundays."
She did laugh then—a reluctant, shaky ghost of a chuckle that made her head hurt. How could she not, with Devlin teasing her and trying to charm her? He'd kept up her spirits since the moment she'd realized they were trapped. She had nearly despaired up there, but Devlin had brought her back from the edge.
"Devlin, I'm sorry I went to pieces a while ago. I behaved like a ninny."
"No, you didn't. You behaved just the way a woman should." His tone was so smug that Jess pushed her elbow into his side. "Ouch!"
"I don't want to hear any more about my not acting feminine."
"I'm serious, sweetheart. It makes a man feel impor-tant, saving his woman. Can't you see how puffed out my chest is?"
An irrepressible snort escaped her. "I can see how puffed up your vanity is."