Page 44 of Lethal Illusion

Chapter 15

Theytraveledtogetherinsilence, determined to put as much distance between them and the mercenaries as possible.But the dense vegetation covering this stretch of forest slowed their progress.It had taken all morning to traverse the valley, and they’d only made it halfway around the lake before finally breaking for lunch.At the rate they were going, they’d have to spend at least one more night in the great outdoors.

That wasn’t a problem for Navarre.He’d endured far worse conditions.Yeah, it was cold last night, but it hadn’t been all that bad, not with Sloane cuddled up beside him, all lush and warm and—

Nope, not going there, he reminded himself for the hundred—or was it the thousandth?—time.With both of their lives on the line, he couldn’t afford those kinds of distractions, and he sure as hell refused to let his hormones hijack his brain.

A breeze rustled the leaves, bringing with it the scents of earth and pine.His stomach rumbled, another reminder that it was past time to take another meal break.Now would be as good a time as any.He scanned the surrounding area to be sure there weren’t any threats.Finding none, he stopped at one of the large rocks near the lake and shrugged off his rucksack.

“Is everything okay?”Sloane asked.

“Yeah, fine.Are you ready for lunch?”He unzipped the bag and dug out two meal bars.They were high in protein and packed with enough calories to keep them going until sundown.

“Sure.”She accepted the bar he offered.“How many of these do you have left?”

“Not enough.”

If they were out here much longer, he’d have to start foraging.Hindsight being twenty-twenty, he should have packed more bars, but space in his ruck was limited, and how was he supposed to know they’d have to rough it in the forest for this long?He wasn’t sure how Sloane would handle eating chickweed and dandelions, but that was a problem for later.

Sloane hesitated, her hand hovering over the wrapper.“Maybe we should save these for later.”

He met her gaze, his voice low and firm.“Eat the bar.You need to keep up your strength.”

“You’re eating one also, right?”

“Yes.”Navarre reached back into the bag for the water bottle and set it on the rock.“We’ll split the last one if we don’t reach town by nightfall.”

“I guess we can use that as motivation to move faster.”Sloane leaned against one of the rocks and propped a booted foot against another.The tear in the knee of her pants had widened, exposing more of her leg.She bit into the bar, chewed for a while—the bars were pretty dense—and washed it down with a swig of water.“What are you going to do when we get back to the real world?”

“Beats me,” he said between bites.Overhead, he heard the screech of a hawk, and glanced up in time to see it land on the branch of a pine.“I hadn’t really thought about it, but I take it you have.”

“Damn straight I have.It’s the only thing keeping me moving.”

“And here I thought it was my sparkling personality.”

“Smartass.”She picked up a pebble and tossed it at him.

He laughed, and it loosened some of the tension in his shoulders.“So let’s hear it.What are your grand plans?”

Sloane ate another bite of her bar.“Well, the first thing I want is a shower.I’m just going to stand there, under the spray, water as hot as I can possibly stand it, until my fingers and toes finally feel warm again.Then I want a pizza, and a whole pan of brownies, and one of those sweet, fruity, girly drinks that you probably hate.”

He almost missed that last part, because his brain had nearly melted at the mental image of her naked and wet in the shower.That self-imposed friends-only rule was going to be the death of him.At last, the words sank into his skull, and he shot her a questioning look.“What makes you think I would hate it?”

“Do you like those kinds of drinks?”

“Well, they wouldn’t be my first choice, but I don’t necessarily hate them.”Now that he thought about it, he’d never actually drunk one, but they didn’t sound like something he’d naturally gravitate toward.He enjoyed drinks with a bit of a kick, something that grabbed you by the taste buds and demanded your undivided attention.

“Then what’s your drink of choice?”she asked, and then added, “Don’t tell me, let me guess: beer, or maybe whiskey.”

He frowned.“What’s wrong with beer?”

“Absolutely nothing, but I nailed it, didn’t I?You’re a beer guy?”

“Yeah.”He reached for the water bottle and took a long drink.“I’ve never been a fan of whiskey.Anytime I drink it, I end up doing stupid shit.”

She let out a laugh that reached her eyes, and it did strange things to his insides.“Okay, I need details.What kind of stupid shit?”

“The kind I’m taking to the grave.”He bit into his bar to punctuate the end of that line of questioning.

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