He was the one who had reason to be stunned stupid, not her. He needed to get out of here but he wanted more than anything to haul her close, hard and inhale the scent of the woman who'd tormented his dreams for five long years.
What the hell was he supposed to say now? He should have been ready for this meeting, even as much as he'd tried to deny the possibility to forestall debilitating disappointment.
"Your arm." Her eyes went wide. "I am so sorry. Let me—"
Boom. The ground shuddered under his feet. From surprise?
No. Wait. Another explosion. Followed by gunfire. Leaves rained down from the rustling branches. The monkey rock overhead went silent—then shrieked to decibel-defying levels. Smoke spiraled through the trees, drifting with the acrid stench of burning buildings.
The compound was under attack.
Gunfire stuttered too damn close. Explosions trembled the ground. Alarms filled the air. The government raid already? But it was too soon. Something had gone wrong while he was away, and this woman and child were seconds from being caught in the crossfire. Hellish images from the embassy shooting bombarded him—watching Sara's body jerk from one, two, three bullets before he reached her. The moment spun out in a deja vu repeat of five years ago.
Damned if he would let the past replay.
Lucas launched to his feet, injury forgotten and scooped up Sara's daughter.
"Run!"
Lucas's order reverberated in Sara's ears with as much force as the explosions blasting through the walled compound less than five hundred feet away. She'd escaped with seconds to spare. She shivered.
Heaven only knew how long Ramon could hold off Hector Padilla or why the attack had launched before sundown. And how did her military husband's appearance now play into everything?
At least she was free of Ramon, and Hector Padilla would never touch Lucia.
Still too shocked to stand, she could hardly process what she was seeing—the angular face of the stark, ungodly handsome man who had haunted her dreams for years. Threads of silver flecked his jet-black hair, his blue eyes still as steely piercing.
Too much to take in at once with her brain already on overload from shock.
Lucas hauled her to her feet, reminding her she didn't have the luxury of time to sort through her questions. Given the choice of staying with Ramon or leaving with Lucas...
No choice for her at all. "Where—"
"Head straight for the path, a direct route to a bridge. Once we're there, we'll have help."
He held Lucia with such authority the child didn't even argue, her warrior-baby attitude gone for the moment.
Sara shook her head. "I meant where did you come from?"
"There'll be time to talk later, and believe me, we sure as hell will talk. But not now. Follow me."
He had her daughter. Of course she would follow him into hell—as he undoubtedly knew.
Her eyes firmly on his broad shoulders, her daughter's wide-eyed face peering back at her, Sara trailed him through the dense pines and palms. He stomped spiky fronds, leaped over a downed tree trunk rotting in the undergrowth.
Lucas's blood warm on her hands, realization burning hotter in her brain, Sara sprinted deeper into the rain forest with her back-from-the-dead husband and Lucia. Lucas's daughter. So much to explain.
If they lived long enough.
He broke free of the dense jungle, back onto the path where he picked up the pace, fronds beating their ankles. Somehow without looking he seemed to know just how fast to run so he didn't leave her behind. Her heart thundered in her ears. She'd tried to improve her endurance with long walks and isometric exercises that Ramon wouldn't notice or question. Still, she wasn't half as fit as she'd been five years ago before the shooting.
Panting, she wouldn't give up. She refused to slow him down and endanger Lucia. She would live long enough to have that talk with Lucas. To wrap her arms around him and hold him close for a grateful minute before they had to sort through everything else.
She would live long enough to tell him he had a child. A beautiful, quirky daughter who loved bugs and swung a branch like a professional baseball player.
Sara scrounged deep and ran harder, her lungs laboring.
Lucas slowed to run alongside her, even though he didn't waste so much as a glance in her direction, his eyes constantly scanning the terrain. "Hang tough. Not much farther. The bridge is right ahead and a plane's waiting nearby."