28
Zander
Zander busied himself setting up camp, cursing Devon under his breath. Devon had set the bar impossibly high, but even if he hadn’t, Zander knew he’d still have fallen short. In truth, he had been planning an extravagant camping excursion for Megan. But those plans evaporated when Zander fled to London to escape his feelings.
He hadn’t planned to come on the four-day hike at all, afraid it would only grow his affection for Megan. Little good that did, he thought as he stacked firewood.
Another rumble of thunder caught his attention. It was much closer now. He scanned the forest, worry digging at his gut. He’d lost track of Megan when he was setting up the tent and he hadn’t heard her rustling through the underbrush in quite some time.
She’s fine. He tried to reason with himself, but images of Megan’s less than graceful attempts to cross the Burren filled him with fear. She was ambitious and she didn’t know the terrain very well—a deadly combination.
A crack of lightning lit the darkening forest making up Zander’s mind. He threw their packs in the tent, grabbed a flashlight and shrugged on his rain jacket. He set off into the forest, bellowing her name as the first few drops of rain started to fall.
Megan
By the time Megan realized she was lost, the storm had fully broken. She tried to calm herself, but the darkening sky opened up, pelting her with rain as booms of thunder shook the earth. She’d been trying to find the path she’d taken from camp for the past twenty minutes, but everything looked the same. She was starting to feel desperate now that the rain was cutting her hopes in half. The visibility was terrible and she had to shield her eyes against the storm, making it worse.
Lightning forked across the sky like an angry serpent and Megan shrieked, suddenly feeling like Dorothy in the OZ-like storm. All that was missing were the flying monkeys.
“Get a grip,” she told herself. “This is the real world. Not a movie set.”
Somehow that seemed to make it worse. If it were a movie, Megan could keep pretending the director would yell cut. But this was terrifyingly real and everything inside her was screaming at her to run, but her aching knee warned of the consequences. The terrain she’d traveled was uneven and now slick with rain. Sprinting through it blindly seemed exactly like what the ditzy girl in the horror movie would do.
“I am not that girl,” Megan muttered.
She pressed herself into the trunk of a nearby tree, desperate for the bit of shelter it offered.
“Think!” she hissed. “It’s just a storm. It’ll pass.”
Megan pulled out her phone, her heart sinking when she saw the no signal sign glaring back at her. She hadn’t been able to get service since they left the ranger’s station. At least her phone offered light. Megan clutched it close to her chest and prayed for strength. The best thing she could do was stay in one place and wait for the storm to pass. Worse case scenario, she’d have to wait until dawn to find her way back to camp.
It was cold, but it wasn’t like she’d freeze to death. She was wearing a thick jacket and good boots. Plus, she’d checked the forecast before they’d left Doolin, the temperature was only supposed to be in the low forties tonight. She’d be fine.
But as the thunder roared, her confidence faltered. She shivered and found herself wondering what temperature caused hypothermia to set in.
“Megan!”
Her head snapped up at the sound of her name. Was she hallucinating already? Wasn’t that what hypothermic people did? But then she heard it again.
“Megan!”
Her heart leapt. “Zander! Zander! I’m over here!” She waved her cellphone wildly, its light emanating from her hand like a beacon of hope.
Suddenly she saw him breaking through the darkness. Relief swept through her and she almost collapsed to the ground. His arms were around her in moments and she clung to him already sobbing.
“Are ye hurt?” he asked, his voice raw from yelling.
“No.”
“Thank Christ,” he growled pulling her to his rain-drenched coat. “I thought I’d lost ye.”
Megan held him as tightly as she could with her trembling arms. She’d been holding it together until now, but as she felt the raging swell of Zander’s ragged breathing she realized how bad things could’ve been if he hadn’t found her.
“Can ye walk?” he murmured, brushing the tentacle-like strands of wet hair from her cheeks.
She nodded.
“Come on.”
Zander
Zander’s heart was still beating out of control by the time they reached the tent. He helped Megan inside, tossing their drenched jackets back into the rain to avoid soaking everything in the tent.
“Ye need to get out of yer wet things,” he ordered.
Zander set to work on the propane camp heater, thankful he’d had the good sense to pack it. When he turned back to Megan she was still fumbling with her shirt. Her hands were shaking so bad she couldn’t manage the buttons.
Zander batted her hands out of the way and undressed her. Fear sliced through him as he felt the coldness of her pale skin. He stripped her naked and pulled one of his sweaters from his bag, tugging it over her head. He helped her fit her arms into the sleeves and then took care of his own damp clothes.
He pulled Megan into his arms and ran his hands up and down her sides trying to spread some warmth into her shaking limbs. “It’s alright,” he murmured. “Yer alright.”
Zander didn’t know if his words were meant to soothe him or Megan more, but they weren’t working. She continued to shake in his arms and visions of her last near death experience haunted him.
“Do ye need yer inhaler?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Are ye sure?”
In answer Megan pulled his hand to her chest, making him feel the steady rise and fall of her breath. Her cold fingers wrapped around his and he pulled her toward him in a rush of emotion.
“Ye scared the shite outta me!”
“I-I’m s-s-sorry.” She shivered the words out, her face pressed against his neck.
“I thought I’d lost ye.” Zander buried his face into Megan’s soaking wet hair, grateful it would hide his tears. Her hands griped his shirt and Zander’s lips sought hers out.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his lips.
He kissed away her apology over and over. This had been his fault.
Zander’s guilt overrode every other emotion, overwhelming him with the need to show her just how sorry he was. He wrapped Megan in his arms and pulled her to his bedroll, laying her on the soft down of his sleeping bag. Their kisses deepened turning from distraction to desire as they clawed at each other, desperate to be closer than their clothes would allow.
Zander tore his shirt off, pressing his burning flesh into hers. Her hands roamed over him fanning his need for her. She arched her back and he dragged her sweater over her head. Caging her with his body, Zander groaned in satisfaction as Megan responded to his touch.
Mine, his mind shouted. She’s mine.
Megan
Megan didn’t know when her shivering had changed from quakes of coldness to trembles of desire, but she never wanted it to stop. Zander worshiped her body, his hands caressing and kissing every inch of her as if it were the only way to satisfy his need to know that she was whole. But she wasn’t, and she never would be again. Not after the way he’d made love to her.
There had been a desperate pain in his eyes as he worked her toward the edge of bliss. She’d never seen him look so broken or vulnerable as he did now, holding her against him, like she could slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. It wrecked her. She wanted to find a way to tell him she wasn’t going anywhere—that if he wanted her, she’d stay.
Megan traced light kisses across Zander’s chin and his arms squeezed her tighter still. “I’m right here,” she whispered.
He let out a shuddering breath.
“I’m right here, Zander.”
He opened his eyes, staring at her with alarming tenderness. He kissed her forehead, pulling the cocoon of sleeping bags tighter around them.
She rested her head against his chest, listening to his thundering heartbeat as their ragged breathing slowed. Megan slid her hand soothingly above Zander’s heart. His fingers sought hers out, entwining comfortably. And though she sensed promise in his touch, Megan couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had felt more like a goodbye than a beginning.