“I’m fine,” he repeated, and she shelved the conversation in favor of picking up the pace. Apparently, he got to take care of her, but not vice versa. Arguing about that pigheaded decision would be better done somewhere dry. And safe.
She snuck a peek at his emotionless face—he seemed rather unshakeable, despite their recent run-in with that large something, and the worst of all storms unloading on their heads. Too bad she couldn’t act as unconcerned.
He shook his head. “You can’t force the door since the water’s too high. You’d only flood the Jeep. We’ve got better odds—”
“Odds of what?” Odds, she understood. Odds made sense. Either something was likely to happen—or it was not.
“Getting back in one piece?” He didn’t sound like he was joking. “Okay, then,” he said. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’ll get you into the Jeep via the window. Then, I’ll get in. Easy. Window’s rolled down, waiting for us, and then we make tracks nice and slow.”
“The road’s full of water.”
“The side of the road, then.”
“Okay.” Her fingers gripped his arm again. “We can’t stay here. I know that.”
“Not unless you really got a yen for an outdoor campout on top of a Jeep,” he teased. He pointed to his shoulders. “Grab on to me and I’ll hoist you up.”
“Got it.”
She was completely on board with that plan. The sooner they got out of here, the better. He gestured impatiently, and she obediently slid her arms around his neck so that she was plastered up against him. And—wow. Maybe it had been too long since she’d had sex because that simple contact of her skin on his was incredible. His shoulders were as strong and capable as the rest of him, and the front of him was pretty darn enjoyable, as well.
His dark eyes focused on her as if this was all in a day’s work. Which it probably was for him, she noted. She was the only one feeling the tension here.
“On three. One. Two.” His hands slid beneath the backs of her thighs and she was pretty sure she gasped. “Three.”
He lifted and her feet left the ground. She was briefly cradled against him, and then he deftly slid her through the window, planting her butt on the passenger-side seat with brisk efficiency.
He limped around the Jeep, positioned his hands securely on the frame and dragged himself up onto the edge of the open window. Yes, he was superbly male and no, he was not okay. Despite the rain and the gloomy, late-afternoon light, she had no problem making out the six-inch tear in his camo pants. Worse, the skin beneath was clearly torn up and bleeding.
Daeg was definitely hurt.
* * *
BREATHE IN. BREATHE out. Whatever had struck his leg had only complicated an already complicated situation. He focused himself and did his best to work through the pain. Yeah. He had maybe two good minutes before the damaged leg locked up and he was of no use to anyone. He should have moved faster. Led with his good leg.
Curling his hands around the driver’s seat, he pulled himself through the open window. Even that last movement was enough to send fire shooting through his knee.
His thigh.
And a half dozen assorted muscles.
Maybe the military doc had been right about taking it easy. Man, he hated how his body refused to work right. The first accident had wiped out years of training in seconds, and he got the nasty feeling that today’s rescue had undone all the progress he’d made in the past few weeks. Being weak was unacceptable.
Female hands on his back guided him down, controlling his fall into the seat some. White-hot agony tore through his thigh as he tried to settle himself. He’d feel better in a minute. All he had to do was breathe through this.
And not pass out.
He reached to turn the key in the ignition and realized he had another problem. The Jeep had a standard shift. Putting the vehicle into gear and then shifting was going to hurt like crazy. If he could do it at all. A flashback from that last rescue job gone bad jarred him. The relentless water. The long ladder down but no swimmer ascending. Lars’s body vanishing beneath a wave. No. He needed to do this, and do it right. He flexed his leg tentatively and, yeah, that definitely hurt.
He’d live, though.
Dani shifted and he reminded himself she wasn’t used to this kind of situation—she was cold and wet. And scared. She simply didn’t have the physical strength to make it through that water, so he needed to find somewhere close to take her. Maybe they could wait out the storm where they were—if he pulled off-road more, though she’d still be uncomfortable and that wasn’t ideal. He needed to get her out of this, where she could get out of those clothes. Warm her up some.