"I guess I can just turn right around and go home, then."
His tone, of course, suggested otherwise, and blowing out a disgusted bream, she gave up. In the silence that followed, she shifted in her seat, trying to restore circulation to her travel-deadened bottom and legs. Gradually she became aware of another discomfort. She looked over at him. "I need to use a restroom."
He emitted another of those charming sounds and she turned her attention back to the scenery outside the window, determined to hold her tongue for real this time. She would patiently await the next service station if it killed her. She was nevertheless relieved a short while later to see a sign announcing a rest stop at the next exit, for she was beginning to grow uncomfortable.
Zach whizzed right past it.
Lily's temper climbed into the red zone, and she had to clench her teeth against ranting and railing and telling him exactly what she thought of his crummy tactics. For that's what this was—a way of letting her know he hadn't wanted her along in the first place and he wasn't about to allow her so-called "blackmail" to dictate the terms of the drive. She forced herself to breathe deeply until she found a measure of control. Then she stroked her hand admiringly over the fine leather of her bucket seat. "Nice upholstery," she murmured. "What a shame my bladder's about five minutes away from destroying it."
He looked over at her, and his charcoal-ringed gray eyes seemed to weigh her determination. "Okay, hold your water. I'll find you a bathroom."
Service stations were few and far between along this stretch of farm country, however, and Lily was practically dancing in her seat by the time Zach roared off the exit and rolled to a stop in front of a gas pump. She left her door hanging open in her rush to the restroom.
When she came out several minutes later, Zach was just reseating the nozzle in its holder. Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he headed for the small minimart. "You'd better come in and pick out what you want to eat, because I'm not stopping again."
Most of the store's offerings ran toward grease, salt, and sugar, but Lily selected a bottle of water, two apples, an orange, and a small package of presliced cheese. She added a candy bar at the counter. Then she fished through her purse for her wallet, but by the time she'd dug to the bottom and located it, Zach had already paid for everything.
"C'mon," he said and strode back to the Jeep.
She sighed as she picked her way over the cracked concrete parking lot in her needle-heeled shoes. This was going to be a long trip.
Miguel hurried to pay for his petrol, watching through the market window as the sergeant major drove out of the lot. Where the hell was he headed?
This wasn't what he'd anticipated. He'd expectedTaylorto take his woman out for a meal in the small beach town where he lived. Or maybe up toLos Angeles. He certainly hadn't expected him to just keep driving and driving and driving. Miguel had nearly run out of petrol before Taylor had finally pulled in here—and then he'd counted himself lucky that this was America, where gas pumps lined two sides of the small market. In Bisinlejo they had one pump—and the truck to fill that only came once every couple of months or so. Here he was able to fill his car at the same time as the commander and still avoid being seen.
Shoving his change in his pocket, he headed for his car. He didn't want to letTaylorget too far ahead. If the marine took an exit before Miguel could catch up, this would be a wasted trip, and he'd have to wait for another day to start all over again. He'd just as soon not have to do that. Too bad he hadn't had the opportunity to talk to the blonde this stop, but Father Roberto used to say that good things came to those who wait.
And he had all the time in the world.
Lily had no idea what time it was when she awoke several hours later to find the Jeep had finally stopped moving. It was pitch dark, and she struggled upright when she heard sounds coming from the back of the vehicle. "What?" she mumbled, trying to shake off the stupor that still had her in its grip. Her bottom was numb, and her neck had a crick in it from falling asleep sitting up.
"We're stopping for the night," Zach's deep voice rumbled from the direction of the cargo space.
"Oh. Okay." Yawning, she reached for her purse with one hand and the door handle with the other. "I'll give you some money for my room."
He gave a short, unamused laugh, and that was when she woke up enough to look around and realize this was no parking lot of a nice hotel, or even a cracked courtyard of the fleabag, motor-court variety. They were in the middle of nowhere.
And it was cold. She shivered as she opened the door and chill air rushed in. Teeth chattering, she closed it again and turned to kneel on the seat, reaching in back for her suitcase. She pulled out a sweater, donned it, then gingerly climbed out of the car. "Where are we?" She heard the back hatch close and squinted to see through the darkness.
"At a campground near Shasta."
"Shasta, as in the mountain?"
"That would be the one."
"And we're staying here?" She took an imprudent step forward, and her heels, not designed for their current surroundings, caught on something underfoot. She went flying.
The free-fall sensation sent her stomach swooping toward her throat, but her tumble to the ground was stopped when her upper arms were suddenly caught in hard-skinned hands. She was jerked upright, and her breasts flattened against rigid muscle with a force that knocked her breath from her lungs. Her chin bounced off Zach's hard chest, clicking her teeth together.
For a moment she simply dug her fingers into his muscular arms and clung, leaning against the comfortingly solid body propping her up. He smelled of laundry soap and man, and as she ran a quick check to make sure all her parts were still in working order, it occurred to her that being held in his arms this way felt very… safe. And warm—mercy, so blessedly warm.
Then his hands tightened on her arms and he moved her back, holding her steady until she found her balance. "Put on some sneakers before you kill yourself."
Chilled again, she peered into the darkness, trying to see him as he moved away. "I don't own any sneakers." God, he couldn't be serious about camping here, could he?
"What was I thinking?" He laughed shortly. "Of course you don't. Do you have any shoes in that bag that don't have four-inch heels?"
"I have a pair of sandals," she said with great dignity.
"You might want to put them on, then, so you don't break your neck."
She turned to go back to the car, only to realize she'd gotten turned around by her near spill. "Which direction is the Jeep? And how come you can see stuff when I can't see a blessed thing? Are you wearing a pair of those night goggles or something?"
"No, I've just got excellent night vision. Take a half turn to your right; the car's a few steps in front of you."
She very carefully made her way to the vehicle and almost wept with relief when she finally located the handle, opened the door, and the dome light came on. She admitted it; she wasn't a huge nature lover. Sunsets from a deck were about her speed. She could hear a lot of rustling going on out there in the dark, and she didn't even want to contemplate what type of nocturnal creatures might be causing it. She cast a longing glance to the keys dangling from the ignition before reluctantly giving up the fantasy they inspired of leaving Captain Commando to play soldier by himself while she flew down the highway in search of motels, hot showers, and clean sheets.