But despite the discomfort, Isabelle was happy for something to do to occupy herself. It was mindless effort and she found herself enjoying the push of her boots against the mushy swamp soaked earth, stepping up over a twisted branch every few feet, keeping her focus sharp for roots coming up from the ground so she wouldn’t trip. Dalton kept a brisk pace so she had to hustle to keep up. And he didn’t say much, which was fine with her since she had to use all her lung power just to keep moving.
All in all, this was quite a workout. Physical activity felt great after so many weeks of sitting around alone with her thoughts. Being lost in her own head was a scary place these days. She wanted to spend as little time there as possible. Outside, she could focus on the sounds of birds, the whistle of tree limbs in today’s hefty breeze—and thank God for the breeze that had kicked up an hour or so after they’d started this trek. She wasn’t sure she’d survive it otherwise. She could smell the damp earth sinking into her nostrils, feel her muscles tighten and ache from inactivity. It was awesome.
Dalton finally stopped after a couple hours, turned to her and pulled his backpack off, then reached in for two canteens.
“Water. Stay hydrated. Don’t drink too much.”
She unscrewed the lid and took a small sip, watching him as he rested against a wide fallen tree trunk. “This strikes me as survival training.”
He put his own canteen away, then hers. “You’re right. I’ve chased a few demons through jungle like this, or been chased by them.”
She imagined trying to run from demons out here in this tangled jungle, then shuddered at the possibility. “Do you think that could happen to us? Out here?”
“It’s possible. I can guarantee that if demons show up here, we won’t be standing still or fighting them within the confines of the house. Plus I’m going to want to lure them away from Georgie’s place.”
She nodded, looked down at her feet. “I understand.”
He tipped her chin with his fingers. “No, I don’t think you do. They won’t be coming just for you, Isabelle. They’ll be coming for me, too.”
She blinked. “You? Why would they want you? Why not just me? I’m who they want.”
He paused, his gaze so intense her body heated up a few more degrees.
“Because I’m a demon hunter and they want us all dead.”
“Oh. Of course.”
“Which means you need to familiarize yourself with the area. First, in case we have to set out in a hurry, and second, in case we get separated. I don’t want to worry about you getting lost out here. You need a sense of direction, to know where you’re going.”
“Does it matter which way I go if demons are chasing us?”
“Yeah, it does. You don’t want them hunting you down and trapping you in a corner, like a snake-infested swamp.”
“Oh. Good point.” That’s why he was the expert at this.
“I know this area; I’ve hiked it before. You don’t. You need to know the landmarks so you can find your way around.”
She nodded. “Okay.” She glanced around, but it all looked the same to her. Then again, she’d mapped desert regions before on a dig. She could do this. “I don’t suppose you have a GPS handy.”
“Actually I do have something that might help,” he said with a slight smile. “A couple units that will allow us to keep track of each other.”
“Handy.”
“Very. Plus comm units that we can use to stay in verbal contact.”
She was going to enjoy this. “You have all kinds of fun tech stuff.”
“Babe, you have no idea. Wait til we get to weapons.”
“Now I’m drooling.”
He laughed. “Come on, let’s get moving again.”
This time, she made note of where she was, where the sunlight filtered in through the treetops, tried to memorize twists and turns in the landscape of the path they traversed. Somehow, it made sense, at least to her, which was really all that mattered. But could she do this at night? She didn’t know, wouldn’t know until it came time to do it. But if she was on the run from demons, she’d damn well do whatever it took to get away.
She even knew when Dalton circled and headed back. By that time, she could have led them, and she bit back a triumphant squeal because she actually knew where she was going. He brought them around to the back of the house where they pulled off their muddy boots and soaked socks. Isabelle sat in a chair on the porch and watched him.
His shirt was soaked, clinging to his chest and back. Dirt smudged his face and his hair was dripping wet.
Oh, man, did he look sexy. She shook off the visual of licking the sweat beading against his neck.
“I’d say that’s enough for now,” Dalton said.
“I can do more.”
He shook his head. “It was a tough hike and you’re not used to the exercise. Go take a bath. Relax your muscles. There’ll be more to do tomorrow. I don’t need you so sore that you’re useless to me.”
She laughed, but didn’t argue. He was right. The last thing she wanted was to ache so much she’d have to spend several days laid up and unable to move. She went inside and turned on the water, opened the window over the tub to let the breeze through and pulled the shutters partway closed, then found some bath salts on the ledge. She poured them over the running water, then began to strip off her grimy clothes.
The bath was heaven. She sank in up to her neck and closed her eyes, letting the warm water loosen her tight muscles. She was so relaxed she almost fell asleep, until a strong gust of wind blew one of the shutters open. She sat up and started to close it, but glanced outside, realizing the bathroom overlooked the backyard. The window was just above the bathtub, so she could lie back and look outside. She eased the shutter partway closed, then leaned back, watching Dalton.
He had a long table outside on the patio, and spread across it were weapons that he had taken apart to clean.
He had taken his shirt off. Sweat poured off his back, running in rivers down the smooth muscles outlined there. He was tan, his shoulders broad, his waist slim, and when he turned around she sucked in her breath at the wide expanse of his chest, the sculpted abs and the fine line of dark hair sprinkled across his lower abs and disappearing into his pants.
The water in the tub was only lukewarm, but her body suddenly felt heated. She blew out a breath, knowing she should get out, but she couldn’t drag her gaze away from Dalton.
She might have been exhausted, but apparently he wasn’t. With every movement the muscles in his back rippled, showcasing his power.
Power. It sizzled around her. Like a jerk of lightning, she felt it enter her, in her veins, surging through her bloodstream. And with every sensation her gaze stayed riveted to Dalton.
Speaking of power … his was strong. Though yards and a building separated them, she felt it emanating from him. She wanted to touch him, run her hands down his back, lick the sweat from his body and absorb some of his power. She wanted to taste him, strip him naked and take him right there in the yard. Her breasts swelled, her nipples hardened, heat filled her. The more she watched, the more she knew she had to have him—right now. Even from in here she could smell him—the raw animal scent that drew her to him like a mating heat.
She rose from the tub and followed that scent, down the hall and out the back door, to the porch. She laid her hand on his shoulder. He pivoted with a smile, then his eyes widened, scanning her body.
“Isabelle. Jesus! What the hell are you doing?”
His gaze shot around the yard. Dammit, she wanted him looking at her.
“I want you.” She curled her fingers around his nape, pulled herself up against his body. Touching him was like drawing to a flame—agonizing, painful pleasure, but she sought it out, wanted more. “I need you.”
He reached for her arm. “Let’s go back inside. Now.”
She held firm, took his hand and laid it on her naked breast. The heat of him sizzled against her skin. Her heart pounded furiously aga
inst his palm; her nipple puckered against the deliciously rough calluses of his flesh. “Touch me, Dalton.”
She didn’t wait for his answer, just held his hand there and drew his head to hers, using every ounce of strength she possessed. She felt powerful, too. She was a queen. She could have anything she wanted, and she wanted Dalton. He was hers for the taking. She could see it from the way he couldn’t take his gaze from hers. A woman could get lost in eyes that sexy.
But now she had to have his lips on hers, his mouth to her mouth. If she didn’t she might die, the thirst to have him was so great. The shock of her lips touching his was like a lightning bolt, a fusion of their strengths, a sexual torrent transferring from her to him.
She might not survive it. She didn’t care. She wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted anything before. He was power. He was hers.
At the first touch of Isabelle’s lips to his, Dalton felt the shock, like being struck by an electric current. But it was more than that. It was a physical rocking of his senses. Never mind that a gorgeous, naked woman stood in the backyard molding herself against him and wordlessly begging him to fuck her right there. Her mouth was magic. Soft, yielding yet demanding. She knew what she wanted. She wanted him. He’d never felt more desired, more needed.
But in the back of his sex-soaked brain there was a small voice that knew this was wrong. This wasn’t really Isabelle in his arms. Something had happened. Some thing bad. He had to think with his head, not with his dick. And that was going to be damned difficult to do given the circumstances, because she was crawling all over him and he was rock hard and ready to do whatever the hell she wanted.
But he finally drew enough strength to pull her arms away, jerk his mouth from hers. Oh, that mouth. Christ, she was sexy, her lips puffy and parted, her eyes druggingly half-lidded and sexy as hell. And of course, she was naked, and her body was perfection, from her full, pert breasts to her slender waist, curvy hips, and athletic legs.
He wanted her, wanted to be inside her, would have no problem throwing her down on the ground and doing it right there.
But he’d made that mistake once before. And it had cost Isabelle. He wasn’t going to let it happen again.
One of them had to have some common sense, and right now it sure as hell wasn’t the hot woman rocking against him.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, focusing only on her face. “Isabelle!”
She stared at him, almost right through him.
“Isabelle, wake up. Now.”
She blinked a few times, then frowned. “Dalton?”
She was coming back. He could almost see her eyes clear, as if a veil had been removed from them.
“Yeah. That’s it. Come on.”
He saw it then—the focus, the reality slip back into her eyes. She looked at him, around the yard, then down at herself, her gaze shooting back to him as she realized she was standing in the yard stark naked. “Oh, shit. Oh, God. Oh, my God, Dalton.” She wrenched away from him and covered herself. Dalton grabbed his discarded T-shirt from the ground and helped her put it on. She was wobbly, looked confused, so he slid his hand around her waist.
“Let’s go inside.”
He helped her into the house and toward the bathroom. The tub was filled with water, now cold. Isabelle stared into the water, then up at him.
Now he saw confusion soaking her features. He wanted to drag her into his arms and comfort her.
Really bad idea considering what had just happened. He kept his distance.
“I was taking a bath,” she said. “That’s all I remember until I found myself outside. With you.” She dragged her hands through her hair. “What did I do, Dalton? God, I’m drenched in sweat.”
What should he tell her? That she stalked out there naked and tried to have her way with him? He was pretty sure that’s not what she wanted to hear right now. She was emotionally fragile, barely holding it together. Telling her she’d stormed out into the yard bare-assed naked and tried to seduce him wasn’t going to help her.
Then again, she couldn’t help herself if she didn’t know the truth. And after everything, he owed her that.
“Let’s both get cleaned up, then we’ll talk,” he said.
She nodded. He turned to go but she grasped his forearm. “Don’t leave.”
He swallowed, but nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll just rinse off in the shower. It won’t take me long.” She moved away from him, turned on the shower in the tiny stall, and with her back to him, pulled his T-shirt off and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.
Dalton leaned against the bathroom counter and tried to remind himself that Isabelle was in shock. Admiring the beauty of her naked body was the wrong thing to do in this situation. Thinking about anything having to do with her body was a bad idea. Watching her silhouette through the smoky glass shower door wasn’t helping his situation any, either. He decided the best course of action was to bend down and unlace his boots, then find Isabelle a towel.
He held it up for her as soon as she turned off the water and stepped out. She offered up a tentative smile and wound the thick fabric around herself.
“Thanks. Your turn now. Do you mind if I just hang in here while you shower?”
This was some kind of punishment for his misdeeds. “No, it’s fine. I won’t take long.”
He shucked his pants and turned the shower back on, hurried inside and closed the door, then buried his face under the water, concentrating on soap and washing, not on Isabelle. When he finished, he turned the water off, realizing he’d have to step out naked. He blew out a breath and opened the door. Isabelle was combing her hair. She stopped and stared as he walked by. He grabbed a towel in a hurry.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good. I’m going to get some clothes. You going to be okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine now.”
Fine his ass. She gaped at him as if she was pondering licking him all over. Dalton was a man. He recognized sexual hunger in a woman. So did his body. He needed to get out of this bathroom—and fast, before things started to become … obvious.
“Great. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He pivoted and went into his bedroom, shut the door, and blew out a breath. Christ, that had been difficult. What was with Isabelle? There had always been an attraction between them, but this was different. There was something powerful going on between them, and he was being counted on to be the strong one and resist.
Well, goddammit. He wasn’t that strong. Isabelle was beautiful, desirable. He’d wanted her from the beginning. Why was he required to be so fucking noble and push her away?
He grabbed a pair of shorts and a shirt and got dressed, then dragged his hands through his hair. It was time to figure out what was going on.
Isabelle was already in the kitchen, sitting at the tiny round table. Her hair hung in damp tendrils down her back. She looked up when he walked in. The hunger he’d seen earlier was gone. Now he saw only curiosity. Misery. Confusion. Those emotions wringing her dry made him feel like hell.
Great job thinking with your dick, Dalton.
“Thanks for the tea.” He pulled up a chair and took a long swallow.
“I figured you’d be thirsty. It was hot out there today. You need to replenish.”
He laid the glass down. “So do you.”
Her lips lifted. “It felt good to do something physical for a change. My muscles were atrophying from sitting around.”
“We still have a lot to do, so plan on working those muscles even more.”
“Good. I like physical work. Keeps my mind occupied on something other than myself.”
She was avoiding the topic. So was he. He wasn’t even sure how to bring it up.
“What’s happening to me, Dalton? It’s not like me to walk out naked in the backyard. What’s worse, I can’t remember anything. Can you tell me what I did?”
She asked for the truth. He owed it to her to
give it to her. He cupped the cool glass with his palm and looked at her. “I was cleaning weapons on the patio. You came up behind me, so I turned around. You were naked.”
She blinked, then nodded. “Go on.”
“You … uh … pressed yourself up against me. Said you wanted me, needed me. You asked me to touch you. Then you kissed me.”
Her cheeks turned pink. She palmed them. “Oh, God. I don’t remember that. I swear, Dalton, I don’t remember doing that.”
“It’s okay.”
“You stopped it. You pushed me away, didn’t you?” He saw tears glistening in her eyes.
“Yeah.”
She leaned back in the chair, wrapped her arms around herself, and laid her chin on her chest, closing her eyes. He could feel her pain and embarrassment.
Dalton wanted to move, gather her up in his arms, drag her onto his lap and comfort her. But somehow he knew that touching her right now would be the wrong thing to do. For both of them.
“Isabelle. Look at me.”
She did.
“I didn’t want to stop you.”
She inhaled sharply. “What?”
“You’re beautiful, the most desirable woman I’ve ever known. And when you kissed me, touched me … oh, hell no, I didn’t want to stop you.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. If it was you, really you out there, I wouldn’t have stopped you. We wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“We wouldn’t?”
“No. We’d be in bed.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks pinkened even further. And he hardened, thinking about having her in that bed. Naked, under him. Christ. Wrong thing to think about.
“But it wasn’t you out there. We both know that.”
She lifted her chin and nodded. “Yes. You’re right.” She finally seemed to relax. “We have to figure out what’s going on with me.” She seemed to ponder it for a minute or two. “Do you think I’m possessed?”