Page 6 of Abducted

“Goddammit. This is your last warning. Hold still or I’ll knock you out!” His threat didn’t affect her. Once they reached land, she was a goner.

She took a brief moment to take in another breath before she went for what could be her last shot.

Ducking her head down, she bit as hard as she could on his forearm. The tinny taste of blood touched her tongue. He thrashed his arm, releasing his hold. She shot her legs back and kicked herself away. Before she could kick again and swim, his hand sank into her hair and snapped her back painfully. A sharp blow to her head caused her muscles to go lax. Her eyes rolled back. She swallowed up the dark, inky waves.

CHAPTER 5

Jesus Christ, thewoman was insane. His insides twisted with guilt as his palm slammed into her head, snapping it sharply to the side.

He’d had to knock her out to keep her from drowning them both. Before he could pull her limp body to his, a large wave hit him in the face and forced him under. He lost his hold on her. Water rushed into his mouth. His eyes screamed as he forced them open.

No!

He willed away all discomfort and dove under the waves. His arms stretched out painfully as he searched the inky darkness for any part of her he could grab. Dammit, he should have tied her feet too. He never should have let this happen. His lungs protested and demanded air. But if his lungs hurt, Lana’s were filling with water. He dove deeper and searched. His eyes strained to see beyond the black that surrounded him.

He’d lost her.

His chest tightened. His heart rate skidded to a stop. His nose burned as water forced its way in.

What have I done?

From the moment he’d taken this job, he’d only wanted to protect her, and he was doing a real shitty job.

Something brushed him—a light, feathery feeling across his hand. Knowing it could be seaweed, he reached and snagged a handful…her hair. Relief spread through his ice-cold veins. He pulled her close, clutched her to his chest, and kicked as if his legs were on fire. They propelled to the surface. He gasped, his lungs hungrily sucking in air as he paddled. She remained motionless, her body weightless in his arms as he kept them both above the rough waves.

Half-carrying, half-dragging her, he got her to the shore. Her body was heavy and limp. He collapsed on the sand beside her, examining her. Her lips were soft and parted, unbreathing. He tilted her head back gently, swept the hair away from her face, and began mouth-to-mouth.

Her lips were salty and wet as his sealed over hers. He breathed into her mouth a couple of times and pulled away. Her face showed no sign of response. Goddammit. He began chest compressions. Her body jerked with the force of his pumps. Her pale, oval face was slack and expressionless. His heart clutched as he continued to work on her.

Nothing.

His stomach turned to lead.

Please don’t let her die.

He was on autopilot, his brain focused on the task. He couldn’t give up. She had to live. His flesh burned beneath his cool skin. Despite the cold water and chilled air, sweat mixed with water on his forehead.

He counted the next thirty compressions, then pinched her nose and molded his mouth over hers again.

One breath…two…

Her body gave a responsive jerk, and water rushed out of her mouth. His shoulders sagged. His eyes closed. Hope soared through him, but she wasn’t out of the woods yet. He rolled her to her side as she fought a coughing fit. She desperately gasped for air at the same time that her body rejected the water.

“Shh…it’s okay, relax. Try to breathe.” He placed his palm on her cold, thin back to calm her. Sharp gasps seized her, and her whole body shook. He closed his eyes on a sigh.

He stared at the soft lines of her profile. The moonlight touched her face, and even now, he could see how pretty she was. Soft, fine-boned… She brought the back of her hand up to her lips as she struggled on a ragged breath… His palm tingled with the need to touch her cheek. He curled his fingers in the sand, resisting the urge.

After a couple of minutes, the gasps subsided, and she took slow, shallow breaths.

He wasn’t an expert, but she had swallowed a lot of seawater that she needed to get out.

“Do you know how to make yourself throw up?” he asked. He gently grasped her shoulders and helped her to a sitting position. Big, dumbfounded blue eyes landed on his face.

“What?” Her brow furrowed at him. Her voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

“You’ve swallowed a lot of seawater, and it could make you sick. I’m going to help you throw up, okay? Can you handle that?”

“No. Leave me alone.” Her plea was weak and lacked venom as she shrugged him off.

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