A/N: Hi, Everyone!
Guest Review:
Guest - Thanks for the review! And I know, right? Very suspicious. We'll find out soon enough if you're right!
Okay, that's enough out of me.
Enjoy!
The next morning dawned clear and bright. Rachel heard Quinn moving around the galley as soon as the sun had peaked over the horizon. She had slept fitfully and knew the taller woman had been restless, too. It didn't help to be sleeping within a few feet, wanting each other so desperately, yet knowing they dared not succumb to the attraction.
The smell of coffee drew her from her bed, just as it had the previous morning. This time, she carefully entered the galley area, making sure she didn't collide with the blonde's firm, yet soft body. Still, Quinn pinned her with a probing gaze that made her heart stutter. Rachel offered a tentative smile, and Quinn offered a caffeine fix. By mutual agreement, they carried it to the upper deck.
After a few minutes to appreciate another new day, Quinn decided she wanted grilled fish for breakfast.
"I hate to sound negative," Rachel reminded, hiding her grin," but so far, the fish seem to have eluded capture."
Quinn flashed her a frown before her eyes lit with challenge. "Maybe you think you can do better?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow.
Rachel chuckled, shaking her head. "I know my limitations, and I know absolutely nothing about catching fish."
"Any reasonable, intelligent person can learn," the blonde taunted.
Never one to resist a challenge, Rachel took her up on it. Then Quinn hauled out the fishing gear and began coaching her in the basics of freshwater fishing.
The lesson involved a lot of detailed instruction, concentrated effort, and good-natured banter. The attraction between them heightened with each touch of a hand, brush of a shoulder, or shared laugh, yet they didn't allow it to sabotage their fun.
"The fish aren't cooperating very well, and I'm starved," the brunette said after an hour without success. "How about I make some breakfast, and we put fish on the lunch menu?"
Quinn sighed and shook her head in disgust, then offered her a rare smile. It stole her breath. Quinn's eyes were a perfect mixture of green, brown, and gold, her expression softer than Rachel had ever seen it, and her stomach did a crazy little flip-flop.
Hunger. It has to be hunger, Rachel argued to herself. A woman's eyes and smile couldn't really make her stomach do somersaults. That only happened in the fictional world, never in real life. She had just gone too long without food.
The brunette's voice sounded rusty when she spoke. "How about milk, cookies, and a banana or two to hold us until we catch some unsuspecting little fishes?"
The blonde shrugged. "Okay by me."
Rachel quickly made her exit and collected some food from the galley, all the while breathing deeply and lecturing herself on the idiocy of their attraction. When she returned to the deck, she was calmer and managed to ignore the tension while they shared a snack.
Shortly after they'd eaten, the fish started biting. Rachel caught two nice-sized bass and couldn't believe how much she enjoyed the small success. She caught a third one and then turned the pole over to Quinn, who caught a couple more.
Once they had enough for a meal, they decided to call it quits. The traffic on the lake had increased, and they had been on deck long enough. Rachel went to the galley to get a pan of water while Quinn cleaned the fish.
When she returned, the blonde surprised her by scooping her into her arms. "Hold your breath," the taller woman commanded.
Not again, Rachel thought. Sensing Quinn's tension, she didn't bother to argue. Instead, she just wrapped her arms around the blonde's neck and held on. Then they were whizzing down the slide. This time, the brunette gulped some air and prepared herself for the chilly depths. Instead of trying to fight her way free of Quinn's grasp, she clung to her and they surfaced together.
The first thing Rachel did after catching her breath was pound on Quinn's chest. "What the hell was that for?"
"Helicopter," she warned simply as she urged the brunette toward the shadows at the back of the boat.
They each grabbed a rung of the swim ladder and ducked out of sight. Arms and legs tangled, and then they went as still as possible, making no visible waves. They watched, barely breathing, as a helicopter slowly made its way along the main body of the lake, from east to west.
"It has some sort of logo on it," Rachel whispered.
The blonde nodded imperceptibly and matched her whisper. "It could be a television news crew. Or some kind of law enforcement 'copter."
The helicopter flew over the center of the lake without veering from its straightforward path or coming too near their cove. It didn't hover long in any one spot.
Quinn had the brunette sandwiched between the boat and her slightly bigger body. Rachel couldn't move, so she finally slid her free arm around the blonde's waist and let her tread water for both of them. A shiver raced over her as her palm slid over Quinn's soft, toned stomach, but it had nothing to do with fear. Rachel pressed herself closer, peering over Quinn's shoulder and putting her mouth near her ear.
"You don't think we could be seen or attacked from the air, do you?" Rachel found it hard to believe that anyone could have tracked their escape. They had been so careful.
She felt the taller woman shake her head. "Tracked maybe, but not attacked. Hudson's men wouldn't be that stupid, but they could be searching by air."
Rachel thought for a second. "That logo looks more like a resort emblem. The owners probably police the area, don't they? Or maybe they're doing some promotional tours."
"It wouldn't take much for Hudson to finagle a free ride for his goons. He's a wealthy man and could pretend to have an interest in the resort operation," Quinn replied.
She had a point. "They probably take prospective clients out for joy rides," Rachel agreed, absently wondering how the blonde's body could be so warm in the chill of the water. Everywhere they touched, she felt the heat of the other woman. "I'll bet this place is impressive from the air."
Quinn nodded, and they watched the helicopter depart, knowing they shouldn't move out of hiding until it could no longer be seen or heard.
As the drone of the engine faded, Rachel became even more aware of how their bodies were entwined. Her legs tingled where Quinn's brushed against hers in the water, sending little shivers of reaction over her skin. Her breasts, stomach, and hips were tightly pressed against the blonde's strong back and firm butt, stimulating every tiny nerve.
Excitement sung through Rachel's veins. This sexy ex-agent stirred her senses as no other person had ever done. It wouldn't do to let Quinn know just how easily she could throw the brunette's hormones into a tizzy. Rachel tried to ease some space between them so that the blonde wouldn't feel how tightly her nipples had hardened.
"I think it's safe now," Quinn said, pulling free of Rachel's grasp and pushing herself clear of the boat.
Missing the feel of her the instant she moved, Rachel took a slow, deep breath. After regaining some control, she hauled herself up the ladder on legs that quivered. Quinn threatened her hard-won independence. Rachel was beginning to care too much. So much so that the blonde's smile and her touch made her ache with longing. And Quinn had slipped past her emotional guard; that worried her even more.
She showered while Quinn finished cleaning the fish, and then the blonde took her turn in the shower. Subdued and lost in their own thoughts, they grilled their fish and shared a quiet lunch.
Shortly afterward, they pulled up anchor and headed back toward the cove where Quinn had found the jogging trail the previous day. Rachel contented herself with watching the speedboats, tubers, and jet skiers who zipped by them, but she didn't venture on deck.
By mid-afternoon they had dropped anchor again, and Quinn announced that she wanted to take another run. She warned the brunette to keep her gun within reach and to listen for a return of the helicopter. They repeated the transfer of her shirt, shoes, socks, and gun. Rachel watched until she had swum to shore, strapped the gun to her ankle, and donned the last of her clothing. Then Quinn climbed the boulders that lined the bank.
Once she had disappeared from view, Rachel changed into her lime green bikini and pulled a white T-shirt over it. She'd swim and work on her tan when Quinn returned, but in the meantime, planned to just watch some more television while she waited.
As interesting as she found the movie that was on, she quickly grew too restless to concentrate. An instinctive edginess propelled her toward the back of the boat. It was hard to stay cooped up inside when the sunshine and water beckoned, but she knew that wasn't the real problem. The scare this morning had her senses on high alert. She decided to watch the water traffic from the back of the boat until her partner returned.
Moving to the windowed back door, she watched one speedboat cruise by pulling two skiers. It looked like so much fun that she promised herself to try it someday. Another boat passed pulling an inflated rubber tube with two teenagers clinging to the sides and bouncing wildly. That looked like a rough ride. Laughing softly, she decided she would have to think twice about trying that.
Two jet skiers, driving dangerously fast, went zipping by next, then a pontoon and a slow-moving houseboat. The decks were crowded with people of all ages whose laughter drifted across the water. Rachel felt a pang of envy as she remembered her own family's carefree vacation.
What would it be like to live a normal, happy life without the constant fear of discovery? Without the need to run and hide like a criminal, always fearful? She had given up much hope of ever knowing that particular contentment.
Love and marriage had never been part of her long-term goals. Those goals hadn't stretched beyond bringing a murderer to justice. She wanted Finn to pay for the death of her parents and brother. Although she loved children, she always figured her biological clock would run out long before she could consider a normal relationship.
As the next speedboat passed, her lungs constricted on a harsh gasp, and then her pulse lurched into overdrive. The boat held four big men, and not one of them had the look of a vacationer. The silhouette of one in particular looked too much like Max to be a coincidence.
Rachel's survival instincts kicked in with her only thought being, escape. There was no time to gather belongings other than her gun. She checked the safety and tucked it into her bikini bottoms as she raced through the boat. The last thing she heard before diving off the front deck was the sound of the speedboat throttling to turn and head back her way.
She dove deep and swam underwater, kicking and pulling with all her might. Knowing she wouldn't have time to reach the shore and climb the bank where Quinn had gone, she headed for the outcropping of land that separated one cove from the next. If she could get around it before she was spotted, she would have a chance.
A few minutes later, she surfaced to catch her breath and get her bearings. With the houseboat between her and the intruders, she couldn't tell how close they'd gotten, so she dove again and swam until her lungs burned and threatened to explode. The third time she surfaced, she found herself at the edge of the neighboring cove.
With one final sprint, she rounded the bend of the land and put the outcropping of solid rock between her and the speedboat. Confident they couldn't see her now, she surfaced and began to swim across the wide stretch of water.
The sound of men shouting gave her the extra strength to drag herself ashore. Her chest heaved and her limbs trembled from exertion. Her pulse roared in her ears. Catching some much-needed air, she squeezed excess water from her hair and shirt, frantically searching the bank for a place to climb.
She cursed herself for not remembering shoes, and then stumbled across the beach and started up the slippery ascent. Years of strenuous workouts paid off as every muscle in her body strained to the max. Clawing and dragging herself up the rocky bank, she reached the top in a burse of adrenaline, and then lunged between two giant boulders.
For the next few minutes, she lied sprawled, facedown where she had fallen. The semiautomatic poked her in the stomach, still secure, yet unreliable now that it had been immersed in water. Her breathing was harsh, but she smothered the sound in the tall, thick grass while struggling to regain some strength.
Quinn.
Rachel was going to kill her. Maybe with her bare hands. Her fists clenched at the thought. Various methods of punishment and torture drifted through her mind, gradually replacing the terror she had just experienced.
How could Quinn have betrayed her?
There was no other explanation for the timely arrival of Finn's men; no possible way they could have tracked her down. Grinding her teeth in frustration, she wondered if she'd been a total fool to trust the blonde.
Her heart felt cold and heavy, clutched in a viselike pain. Quinn had been the rare exception to her longtime rule of not letting anyone get too close. Rachel had started to care for her.
Had it all been an elaborate scheme? Quinn's disgust for Finn, the blonde's concern for her safety, and all the precautions she had suggested? Rachel didn't want to think she could be so wrong about someone, but she intended to find out for sure.
Lifting her head, she searched the immediate area for the jogging path Quinn had described. At least that part of her story was true. The brunette saw a path and let her gaze travel to where it disappeared into a line of trees. Her pulse had begun to quiet but it went berserk again when she caught sight of the taller woman about a hundred yards distant.
She ran at a low, steady pace, her arms and legs moving with an economy of motion. Her face glistened with sweat, and her chest heaved gently. Rachel's pulse skipped another few beats. The blonde looked so normal, so sexy, and so damn unconcerned.
She frowned. Could Quinn be that good an actress? If she had brought them here, why hadn't she just disappeared? She looked so natural, as though she'd been enjoying a carefree run. Did Quinn plan to help them trap her, or continue her vacation after Rachel had been hauled away?
Or could the blonde be just as much a victim as she?
Rising slowly to her feet, Rachel reached under her T-shirt and locked her hand around the gun. It might not work, but neither of them could be sure of that. At least for now, she had the upper hand.
Quinn had covered most of the distance between them before Rachel stepped clear of the boulder and into her line of sight. She stopped immediately, her features tightening in concern. Her gaze dropped to the gun and then back to the brunette's strained expression. "What the hell?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused.
"You tell me," said Rachel as she leveled the Glock at the taller woman's midsection and flipped the safety off. Rachel braced her right hand with her left, and her attention never wavered from Quinn's face. She desperately wanted to believe the blonde's confusion was genuine, but her life depended on caution. She couldn't let her heart rule reason.
"Why did you leave the boat?" Quinn asked, panting as she tried to catch her breath. "What's going on?"
"We've got company," Rachel replied evenly.
Quinn's gaze flew toward the embankment, searching for the intruders. After aiming a blank glance at her, Quinn headed to the bank above the cove where they'd left the boat. The blonde turned her back to her without hesitation, as though Rachel didn't present any real threat. Or, like her, Quinn realized she couldn't afford to fire the weapon and alert anyone to her whereabouts.
Rachel gritted her teeth, clutched the gun, and called herself a fool, but went with her instincts. If Quinn had any knowledge of the ambush, she deserved an Oscar. The taller woman looked genuinely surprised and worried.
Moving from boulder to boulder along the bank, the blonde stayed hidden and waved her to stay back. The brunette ignored the unspoken order and followed until they were directly above the cove where they had anchored. From their vantage point, they could see the houseboat without being visible from the water.
The speedboat had pulled alongside their boat. Two men stayed on the smaller craft while two others searched the houseboat. Rachel recognized Max and another of Finn's employees, whom she only knew as Karofsky.
"Nowhere in sight, but they were here." Max's voice carried to them. "Search everything, Karofsky."
They watched as he moved onto the front deck and did a visual search of the cove. Then he pulled something out of his pocket and waved it in front of him. At first, Rachel thought it might be a gun, but then she thought it looked more like a cell phone. She just couldn't figure out why he'd be waving it around.
Quinn touched her arm, urging her to back away from the rock barriers. It wasn't likely that anyone could see them, but they cautiously retraced their steps until they'd returned to the jogging path.
"What did he have?" Rachel finally whispered. Still not sure the other woman could be trusted, she kept the gun leveled at her midsection.
Quinn studied the gun and then the brunette, her jaw tight and expression grim. "Use it or put it away," she demanded tersely.
Tension quivered between them until Rachel slowly flipped the safety on the gun and tucked it back into her swimsuit.
The blonde grabbed her arm firmly and started pulling her along the path to a clump of trees. "He's got some kind of electronic tracking device."
It made sense, but it didn't make sense. "That would work if he had a signal to follow, but there's no way. How the hell did they find us? Even if they traced our call to Leroy, that wouldn't have given our exact location. This place is huge!"
Quinn looked thoughtful. "They have to be honing in on a direct signal."
Rachel shook her head disbelievingly. "That's not possible. I checked everything I brought out of the estate. Nobody knew where the car was garaged, so they couldn't have bugged it," she insisted, thinking aloud. "I mailed all the jewelry to Maine. Everything else I brought with me is on the boat, so they'd have found the bug when they boarded. It doesn't fit."
Quinn's expression grew grimmer, her eyes going cold and hard while her jaw clenched. "Unless it's on you," she said.
Rachel didn't like the way the blonde was looking at her and liked her suggestion even less. "Where?" she demanded in a frustrated whisper. "I'm barely dressed, and I know there's no bug in my gun. I'm not wearing any jewelry, and I haven't even had a cavity filled since I met Finn."
"What if it's implanted under your skin?" Quinn suggested, studying her intently.
Rachel froze, eyes widening in horror. A terrible chill raced over her, freezing, and then numbing her with shock. Her lungs constricted painfully, her throat growing so tight that she could barely whisper the next questions.
"How? Where?"
Quinn pulled her close and spun her around. Then she lifted the hair off the back of the brunette's neck and looked at her nape.
The ex-agent's voice held a feral snarl when she finally spoke. "What if your weird accident wasn't an accident at all? What if Hudson had a device implanted in your neck? It wouldn't have to be very big," she added, running a finger lightly over the stitches.
Rachel's stomach roiled. It made sense, and it explained the strange accident. She slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming in outrage and denial. Her body became one giant tremor, shaking her to the very core. "It's possible," she whispered gruffly. "It sounds like something he would do. He's fanatic about his possessions and that's what he considered me. He has no morals and no conscience."
Quinn muttered a string of vicious obscenities and then turned the brunette around to face her. Quinn gave her a fierce hug that helped soften some of Rachel's shock, but it was way too brief. A tracking device was beyond her worst nightmare, and she was badly shaken.
"We've got to get away from here." The blonde's warm breath touched her ear. "Right now, we're shielded by those boulders. The signal probably can't penetrate them, but as soon as they come over that embankment, they'll be able to pinpoint our location."
"What can we do?" Rachel asked, knowing what a wild animal must feel like to be pinned in the headlights of a car.
Quinn was already reaching for the gun at her ankle. She unfastened the strap and then whipped it around the brunette's neck, positioning the gun over the scar on her nape. "We run for it. Hopefully, the metal of the gun will interfere with the signal until we come up with a better solution."
As soon as she had secured the holster around her neck, Quinn turned to lead the way. Rachel relegated the sick terror of a body invasion to the back of her mind. She couldn't allow herself to dwell on this latest atrocity. Survival came first.
They had only gone a short distance before Rachel realized an additional handicap. "I'm barefoot," she called softly to Quinn.
The blonde stopped abruptly, turned, and stared down at the shorter woman's bare feet. "You can't run this path like that. There are too many sticks and rocks. You'll have to ride piggyback."
Rachel stared at her as though she had lost her mind. Quinn had already been jogging for an hour. Rachel was way too heavy to carry, not to mention reluctant to be totally dependent on the other woman. Remembering the last time she'd wrapped her legs around the blonde, Rachel panicked briefly, and then latched onto the first lame excuse that leapt to mind.
"You smell like dirty socks."
Quinn looked stunned by the inanity of her comment. Then her eyes softened in understanding. "You smell like dead fish," she countered gently. "Now, get on."
Rachel grimaced and conceded, knowing they were wasting precious time. Quinn turned and leaned down so the brunette could hop onto her back. Then she hefted Rachel up until she had a firm grip on her tan thighs. Rachel wrapped her arms around the blonde's upper chest, trying not to strangle her.
Quinn ran deeper into the woods and splashed through a shallow stream of water, and then followed it long enough to throw off anyone who tried to track them on foot. After they'd traveled a mile or so, Quinn moved back toward the regular path and then stayed parallel with it without actually using it.
Rachel ducked her head to avoid low-hanging branches for a while. Then she buried her face against the blonde's neck. She smelled of sweat, but there was still the lingering scent of vanilla and flowers from whatever she bathed with. The heat of the other woman scorched Rachel's inner thighs, belly, and chest, making her extremely aware of every supple, yet firm inch of Quinn's body. Her pulse became Rachel's as it pounded rapidly through her veins. It was an experience unlike anything the brunette had ever known.
"How far do you plan to run?" Rachel whispered in her ear.
"Another few miles," Quinn puffed in response.
She gasped. "You can't carry me that far!"
Quinn slowed and then stopped just before a clearing with several cabins. She let Rachel slide to the ground. She sat still, watching the taller woman closely while she struggled to catch her breath.
"We have two choices," the blonde finally said. "We can try to make it to the marina and hot-wire the car, or we can hide out for a while in one of the deserted cabins around here."
"There's a key to the car hidden under the right front bumper, but we can't risk going after it," she replied.
"Why?"
"If Max searched the houseboat, then he found the marina rental receipt. It has the car's license number. He'll go there next and either have it watched or plant something worse than a bug," the brunette explained.
Quinn swore, rubbing her temples in frustration. "We can't hitch a ride while that gun's strapped to your neck, so we'll have to hide. I've seen a couple of cabins that don't look inhabited right now."
"You can leave me and hitch a ride to town to find some transportation," Rachel suggested.
"No!" Quinn's response was harsh. She glared at the shorter woman. "We stay together. Max and his men will have to split up if they search the whole area. As long as we're together, one man at a time isn't a threat. We will go to a cabin and formulate a new plan."
Rachel didn't argue. She didn't want to part ways with the blonde, yet she wondered at her motives. Did Quinn have her own agenda for keeping her safe? Some unknown reason for not wanting her out of her sight? The answers weren't forthcoming, so Rachel nudged the questions to the back of her mind. She had worked solo for too long and didn't want to go it alone anymore.
"The path goes behind that group of cabins," Quinn continued. "I didn't see anyone around earlier, but we should try to walk past like we're taking a stroll. Since you're barefoot, we'll go slow."
Rachel nodded and fell into step beside the blonde until they had covered the short distance across the clearing. Once they were out of sight of the rental cabins, Quinn leaned down and hefted her up onto her back once more.
"You're going to owe me a serious rubdown," Quinn remarked, picking up her pace again.
Rachel smiled against her neck and unconsciously tightened her grip on the blonde. She would reserve judgment on what she owed the other woman. Rachel still hadn't decided whether it would be a debt of gratitude or slow torture. Although, come to think of it, a full-body massage might fit the bill in either case.
Quinn left the path and veered deeper into the woods, plunging them from dappled sunlight into near darkness. She slowed down to a walk as they encountered heavier vegetation.
"Are you sure there's a cabin up here? How did you even find this place?" the brunette questions. She was starting to doubt the blonde really knew where she was going.
"I've seen several isolated cabins and figure they're privately owned. I followed a doe and fawn through the woods here," she explained. "They led me to the cabin with a salt-lick in the yard. Looks deserted."
Quinn breathed deeply from exertion, and Rachel felt every intake of breath like her own. The blonde's muscles flexed and Rachel's nerves jangled. Never having experienced such an intense physical connection, the feel of it defied description.
Lo and behold, they came upon a small log cabin that stood buried in a cluster of tall evergreens. Covered in ivy, the whole structure was nearly hidden from view. Quinn jogged around the right side to the small back porch and then stopped to let Rachel slide off her back.
"You're sure nobody's living here?" the brunette asked as she tried to peer through a window.
Quinn shook her head. "It doesn't look like anyone has been here for a while. Maybe someone only uses it a couple of weeks a year."
"Let's just hope this isn't their week," Rachel quipped.
"Yeah," Quinn agreed. She searched the door and a small window frame for a spare key but couldn't find one. "I hate to break in if we don't have to."
Rachel helped to search, overturning rocks and looking under a loose wooden plank in the porch. Quinn reached above them and felt along the rafters of the low-hanging roof, while the brunette looked in and under a collection of flowerpots.
"Look!" Rachel exclaimed.
A/N: Ooo, the suspense! I wonder how long they can hide out there. And is that really a tracker? If so, will the gun really help? Find out the answers (maybe) to your questions in the next installment!