Trust Me

“The wall’s aren’t made out of concrete. They’re made out of concrete block,” he corrected, climbing to his feet. “Cemented together with a local mortar, which is made out of straw and mud, and which is what I intend to go after. My flimsy little bar, in contrast, is made of a space-age titanium alloy ten times stronger than tempered steel. And nobody’s going to see what’s happening because the back wall’s built right on the edge of a drop. So yeah. I think my plan will work.”

He walked over and chucked the empty plate at the outer door with a fierceness that startled her. Yet when he turned, he appeared calm and in control, and when he spoke it was with an easy confidence she wanted desperately to believe in. “Give me a little credit, okay? I didn’t just get myself tossed in here hoping an idea would come to me. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, of course,” she said faintly. He might look like the boy she’d known, but clearly he was all grown-up. What’s more, he was right. He was her best, her only, hope of escape and questioning him at every turn wasn’t doing either of them any good.

“And now, since our hosts really don’t seem inclined to check up on us despite my bad manners—” he slid his blade free of its hiding place and once more headed for the back of his cell “—I might as well start. Why don’t you try to get some rest? You’re going to need it for later.”

She was being dismissed. Again. Yet this time she didn’t take offense, simply did as he suggested and laid down. Partly because there was nothing to be gained by arguing, but mostly because between the heat, the lack of nutrition and the internal uproar his presence caused her, she was worn out.

She curled on her side, tucked a hand beneath her cheek and lowered her lashes, pretending not to watch as he started his assault on the wall, using his handy-dandy blade thingy to hack away at the mortar.

God help her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. And it wasn’t only because of the mesmerizing way his back and shoulder muscles bunched and shifted with his every move.

No, it was also because of her realization that she’d been fooling herself for years, believing the picture she carried of him in her mind was accurate.

It hadn’t been. She knew that now; the proof was right in front of her. At some point in the passage of time, she’d clearly forgotten just how vividly alive he was. Just as she’d forgotten that when she was in his presence, the whole world seemed sharper, brighter and infinitely more interesting.

It had been that way from the very first time she’d laid eyes on him, she thought, remembering….

Once again, it was a hot, lazy June day. She lay languidly on a chaise longue by the swimming pool at Cedar Hill, the palatial Denver estate owned by her grandmother’s newest husband.

Off in the distance, she heard the distinctive whine of an approaching lawn mower and ridiculously, her pulse skittered. Grateful for the camouflage of her sunglasses, she casually shifted her head to the left toward the emerald swath of the five-acre back lawn. She was rewarded for her effort by the sight of a tall, bronzed young man cutting the grass.

She’d first noticed him the previous week; he wasn’t the regular lawn man, and a casual inquiry of Mr. Tomkins, who looked after the pool, had provided her with the information that he was a vacation fill-in.

Whatever the reason for his presence, with his broad shoulders and confident swagger, he was hard to miss. She knew he’d noticed her, too. Unlike the well-mannered boys she was accustomed to, he’d stared boldly at her, his gaze lingering in a way she’d told herself was totally annoying.

Which hardly explained why she’d been lying here for the past hour, hoping to get another glimpse of him. Or why just looking at him now made her throat feel tight. Nor did she understand the panic that bloomed inside her when, as if he’d sensed her regard, he abruptly brought the lawn mower to a halt, shut off the engine and began to walk toward her, his long legs rapidly eating up the distance between them.

Before she could act on a sudden impulse to flee, he was standing at the wrought iron fence that encircled the pool. “Hey.”

For a moment she couldn’t move. Then, driven by pride and an abruptly awakened sense of self-preservation that warned he was a threat—although to what she couldn’t clearly pinpoint—she slowly sat up. “May I help you?” She used her best drawing room voice in a desperate bid to hide the way her heart was pounding.

“Yeah.” He flashed her a smile that made her stomach flip. “Would you mind getting me a glass of water?”

A bead of sweat tracked down the column of his neck, adding to the damp that made his black T-shirt cling to his muscled chest, and an unfamiliar heat twisted through her. Embarrassed, she reached up and slid her sunglasses off, using the action as an excuse to look away. “Pardon me?”

“I’m thirsty. You don’t seem to be doing anything, so if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate you getting me a drink.”

Her gaze snapped back to him as she tried to decide which was more unsettling: his nerve or her realization that an unfamiliar part of her wanted to do his bidding. “I don’t think so.” She picked up her book and sat back, waiting for him to take offense and stalk away.

He didn’t. Instead, he cocked a hip and leaned closer, muscles flexing as he rested his tanned dusty arms against the top of the fence. “Aw, come on. You’re not too good to mix with the hired help, are you?”

Stung that he’d think such a thing, she ratcheted her chin up a notch. “Of course not.”

He raised one straight, inky eyebrow. “So what’s the problem?”

Their gazes locked. To her fascination, his eyes, which she’d expected to be dark due to his near-black hair and olive complexion were a clear compelling green. And his mouth looked hard and soft all at the same time, the lips full and….

She scrambled to her feet, appalled by the direction of her thoughts. Tossing her long braid over her shoulder, she marched over to the wet bar and filled a tall glass with icy water from the tap, staunchly ignoring the fact that her hands were shaking. Head high, she stalked back to the fence and thrust the tumbler at him. “Here.”

He took her offering with lazy grace, purposefully brushing his rough, calloused fingers against hers in the exchange. Raising the glass, he tipped back his head and drank, his strong, smooth-skinned throat rippling. She waited, unable to look away, as he licked the last bead of moisture from his lips once he’d drained the glass. “Thanks.” He handed her back the glass.

Her own throat felt dust dry. “You’re welcome. Now please go away.”

He acted as if he hadn’t heard her. “My name’s Dominic. Dominic Steele. What’s yours?”

“I see no reason for you to know that,” she said coolly.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. After all—” his gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth, lingered, then unhurriedly came back up “—how can I ask you out if I don’t know your name?”

If she had any sense, she’d walk away. Yet she stood rooted to the spot. Silence stretched between them. Then she heard herself say in a breathy way that was totally unlike her, “It’s Lilah…Cantrell.”

“Lilah,” he repeated. “That’s perfect. A pretty name for a pretty girl.” The faintest of smiles crinkled the corners of his vivid eyes and her knees instantly went weak. “Come on, Lilah, go out with me. Please?”

She knew she should say no. She could just imagine her grandmother’s reaction to her dating someone from the lawn service. Then again, Gran was gone for the rest of the summer on her honeymoon cruise. And except for the staff, Lilah was alone, as usual, the weeks until her sophomore years at Stanford started stretching interminably before her.

Still, except on rare occasions, such as last winter’s charity cotillion and her senior high school prom, she didn’t really care to date. She’d always found the opposite sex to be either crass or boring, or both.

Dominic Steele was neither. In the past five minutes, he’d managed to turn her ordered world upside down—surprising, annoying, intriguing and charming her all at the same time. Which was no doubt why what was left of her common sense was shrilly insisting that nothing good could come from the pull she felt merely standing close to him.

The prudent thing to do was say no.

Oh, come on, whispered an unfamiliar little voice in her head. Aren’t you just a little tired of always doing the right thing? Of forever being the straight-A student, the dutiful granddaughter? After all, you’re not a child any longer. And no matter what Gran says, you’re nothing like your mother—

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

Her spine stiffened automatically. “Please,” she said with a faint sniff.

“So prove it.” He looked at her expectantly.

“Oh, very well.” She did her best to sound blasé, but it was hard to do with her heart thundering like a drum solo. “I suppose I could rearrange my schedule.”

Satisfaction flashed across his face. “Great. I’ll pick you up at eight.” He turned to walk away, then twisted back around. “Oh, and Lilah?”

“What?”

“Wear pants.”

“Why?”

His expression turned enigmatic. “You’ll find out tonight.” As assured as a prince, he strode away, leaving her to stare after him, already questioning the wisdom of what she’d done.

She got her first inkling of what she was in for when he’d roared up the drive that night on a gleaming black motorcycle.

Grateful again that Gran was away, Lilah had reluctantly allowed Dominic to coax her onto the back of the bike. Once there, she’d found she had no choice but to wrap her arms around his lean hard middle, press her cheek against the warm hollow between his shoulder blades and trust him to keep her safe.

Looking back later, she’d been able to see that their ride that night had been the perfect metaphor for the relationship that followed. It had been wild, scary, exciting and exhilarating, with Dominic taking her places she’d never been before.

Within hours, she’d begun to fall in love with him. Within days they’d become lovers. And after that….

“Li? You awake?”

With a start, she opened her eyes. She blinked, surprised to find that while she’d been strolling down memory lane, night had fallen. The cell block was cloaked in darkness except for a single weak arrow of light streaming in the small barred window. It was just enough illumination to reveal Dominic standing over her. Startled, disoriented, suddenly not sure she wasn’t dreaming, she gazed up at him. “But…how did you get in here?”

“Lock pick. In my boot.” He held out his hand. “Come on. It’s time to get the hell out of Dodge.” Hard and calloused, his fingers closed around hers.

She drew in a sharp breath at the contact. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she struggled to come to grips with the shift from weeks of waiting to sudden action. By the time her head had cleared, he’d led her out of her cell and into his.

She continued to follow him, her gaze locked on the solid outline of his back, when, without warning, he stepped to one side.

She rocked to a halt, a stiff salt breeze slapping her in the face, and stared at the man-sized opening that now gaped in the previously solid, seemingly impregnable wall. Beyond it stretched nothing but a vast black sky littered with glittering silver stars.

“Dear God.” With a start, she remembered he’d said something about a drop, but she’d never, ever, imagined this.

She took a cautious step forward, craned her neck and looked down. There, so far below it looked to be miles away, the ocean rolled in with an impressive crash as it met the perpendicular cliff face. “You can’t be serious. This is your escape route?”

“That’s right.” Unlike the water, Dominic was suddenly far too close. His breath washed over her temple and every sensitive inch of skin on her body had goose bumps.

She tried to ignore her rapidly disintegrating nerves. “It’s got to be at least a hundred-foot drop.”

“More like fifty.”

“But how are we going to get down?”

“Easy.” All of a sudden, the lazy humor was back in his voice. “We’re going to jump.”

For a second, Lilah was sure she hadn’t heard correctly; then she was afraid she had. “You’re kidding, right?

“Nope.”

“But that’s crazy! If the fall doesn’t kill us, getting dashed by the tide against the cliff will do the job. That is, if we haven’t already hit a submerged rock!”

“No rocks,” he said calmly. “The tide’s on its way out. And the waves sound a lot worse than they really are. It’s a clean shot down, with more than enough depth to be safe. I checked.”

He’d checked. The knowledge brought reassurance, which was crazy in itself. If ever there was a man not to trust, he was the one.

Yet it wasn’t as if she really had a choice, she realized. Not anymore. She didn’t want to think what would happen if they were still here when the guards showed up in the morning and saw Dominic’s handiwork.

“Look,” he said quietly, his face in shadow, which only served to make his voice even more compelling, “I know you’ve always had a thing about heights—”

“No. It’s all right. If you—if this—” she stopped, swallowed, reached down deep to steady herself “—if this is what we have to do, this is what we have to do.”

He moved out of the darkness and into the moonlight, an odd expression on his face that she couldn’t identify. “You mean I’m not going to have to tie you up and gag you to get you to jump?”

She shivered at the picture his words conjured. “No,” she said quickly.

“Too bad.” That crooked, cocky grin that had always made her stomach flip-flop flashed across his handsome face. “Then let’s do it.”

“Now?” She took an involuntary step back.

“Yeah. Now.” Before she could retreat farther, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her.

For a moment, the shock of his embrace was so overwhelming she forgot to be afraid.

And then she forgot to be anything else as he lifted her off her feet, took two powerful steps through the crude doorway he’d created and vaulted them out into the wind-whipped void.

Four

The night breeze danced through the palm trees that fringed the small cove, while the moon played hide-and-seek with a flotilla of clouds. Still, the silvery orb provided sufficient light to guide Dominic and Lilah as they waded through the surf toward the shallows and the tiny sliver of beach beyond.

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