Page 33 of Lethal Illusion

Navarre pushed to his feet and slung the pack over his shoulders.

“We better get moving.”He offered his hand to hoist her up, and when her slender fingers curled around his, the sparks of electricity that shot up his arm were difficult to ignore.

Her eyes flicked up, meeting his, and it felt like something shifted inside him that he couldn’t find the words to describe.Heat, yes, but it was more intense than that…dark and deep and bordering on primal.It shook him to the core.

Even if he was open to those kinds of feelings—and he certainly was not—this wasn’t the time or place for that kind of shit.More likely than not, they were simply a byproduct of the stress of the situation.Once things returned to normal, they’d probably dissipate so fast he’d doubt they ever existed.

At least that’s what he told himself.

Gently, he released his grip and jerked his chin toward the east.“Think you’ve got enough in the tank to make it to the top of that hill before sunset?”

Her expression said no, but she nodded.“Sure.”

More points.Much to his surprise, she was racking up the score.Not bad for a city girl.

“All right, let’s get to it.”

Chapter 12

Bythetimetheyreached the hill’s crest, the sun had begun its descent below the tree line, casting the land in a soft orange glow.Every muscle in Sloane’s body ached with exhaustion, but standing atop the summit filled her with a profound sense of accomplishment.

She peered down at the valley below, nestled between two towering ridges, its floor dotted with clusters of trees and meandering streams.It was the first time since fleeing into the forest that she’d actually taken the time to appreciate the beauty all around her.Under different circumstances, it would have been relaxing, peaceful.But she couldn’t look at it that way, not with a group of heavily armed mercenaries hot on their heels.

“This looks like a good place to stop for the night.”Navarre slipped the rucksack off his shoulders and set it on the forest floor.“It’s high, dry, relatively flat, and I can use that fallen tree over there to build us a shelter.”

She followed his gaze to the massive pine, its trunk snapped a few feet above the soil.The tangled twist of limbs still bore a touch of green, and she assumed there was more than enough material for shelter construction.However, with night fast approaching, time was of the essence.

Already, the air had turned crisp, with the temperature expected to dip near freezing overnight.And while the creep’s camo jacket had kept her warm during the day’s long hike, she doubted its insulation would be enough to keep her comfortable until the sun’s return the following morning.

“I assume a fire’s out of the question.”

As expected, he nodded, but at least he didn’t look happy about it either.“I’m sorry, but it could lead them straight to us.”

After hiking for hours that felt like days, Sloane wasn’t in the mood to argue.Her legs were tired, her feet were killing her, and the persistent throb that lurked in her temples was getting harder to ignore.Besides, she knew he was right.Although a fire would be nice and cozy, she’d rather feel safe enough to close her eyes and get a few hours’ rest.“How can I help?”

Hands on his hips, Navarre scanned the area, his gaze sharp and assessing.“We need materials to build a shelter: moss, leaves, branches, stuff like that.See what you can find and bring it here.”

She gave him a mock salute.“I’m on it.”

It didn’t take long to gather enough supplies to create a makeshift shelter.Only it didn’t look like a shelter by the time Navarre was finished.It didn’t look like much of anything at all, which she assumed was the point.

Instead of building a structure resembling a tent or a lean-to, he’d used the materials to create a burrow of sorts, a hidey-hole carved along a stretch of the fallen tree that blended in with the twisted branches and surrounding vegetation.If she hadn’t watched him build it, she wouldn’t have even noticed it was there.

“Did they teach you how to do that in the Army?”she asked, and he nodded.

“Part of a sniper’s job is to blend with his or her environment.”He cast her an assessing glance.“How are you holding up?I’m sorry; I should have asked earlier.”

“I’m okay.”That was a lie.She fully expected to wake up tomorrow morning feeling like the Tin Man fromThe Wizard of Oz: stiff, creaky, and in desperate need of oil.But he didn’t need to know that.“My feet are just a little sore.These boots aren’t built for hiking.”

That was the understatement of the day.Boots like these were made for a night at the club, not time in the great outdoors.It was a wonder she hadn’t lost a heel yet, though she was pretty sure they’d rubbed blisters on both feet.

Navarre’s gaze slid down to her feet.“Take your boots off.”

“What—why?”She stared at him as though he’d lost his mind.“They’re not great, but they’re better than nothing.”

His expression remained unchanged.“I don’t want you to get rid of them; just take them off for a few minutes.”

“Again, why?”

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