Thieves In The Night Read Online Free Page B

immediately felt her slack off. No place to go now but down, Jaz, old boy, and fast. The thought and action were simultaneous as he slipped down the rope, yards at a time, his body burning. At the bottom, a pair of strong, supple arms came around his waist, pulling him off the rope and supporting his weight.
    “Thanks. Ah . . .” He winced when she tucked her shoulder under his arm, but just feeling the ground beneath his feet sent a fresh wave of strength through him.
    “You’re hurt,” she said with a gasp, and he lightened his weight on her body. She was so small, he wondered if he’d been kissing jailbait. He hoped not, because he wanted to kiss her again. Planned on it, actually.
    “It’s just a flesh wound,” he said bravely. Lord, he hoped it was just a flesh wound, but what he knew about wounds would fit on the head of a pin. It hurt like hell. That he knew for sure.
    “We’ve got to get out of here.”
    “I’m game. What’s the plan?”
    “Don’t you have a plan?” What had she gotten herself into?
    “I’ve got a snowmobile.”
    “Where?”
    “Half a mile to the north.”
    “Can you walk?”
    “Yes.” Jaz tested his knees to see if the fear-induced jelly had hardened up yet.
    Her eyes met his for an instant, sharp and intense. “Then run.”
    Chantal took her own advice, racing over the forest rubble to the end of the ravine. He either made it now or he was on his own, she told herself. But he stuck to her like glue, his hands grabbing for branches she had barely cleared. When they scrambled to the top of the gulch, it was his hand stopping her backslide, his hand on her instep giving her the final boost over the top.
    Chantal scrambled to her feet and steadied herself in the drifting snow; then she reached down for his hand. He was already halfway up, and her added tug sent him flying over the edge. A tangle of arms, legs, and bodies ensued, with Jaz gaining the high ground. The breath whooshed out of her lungs.
    “Sorry,” he grunted, without making the effort to move.
    She knew he was hurting. It showed in the awkward angle of his arm between their stomachs and his labored gasps filling the air with vapor clouds. She’d give him five seconds, and not a moment more.
    “It’s okay,” she said. “Uh . . . good-bye and good luck.” Like their previous conversations, her statement sounded ridiculous, especially with him sprawled all over her, pressing her into the snow.
    He groaned in answer and levered himself up on one elbow. Light from the full moon spilled onto his face, delineating the square line of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbones up to his eyes. The rest of his face remained a mystery, and for the first time Chantal allowed herself to wonder what he looked like. But his five seconds were up.
    “We’ve got to get out of here.” She started to slide from beneath him.
    “Can I give you a ride home?”
    The line was so out of place, she couldn’t stop a smile from curving her mouth. “I don’t think so.” The roar of a snowmobile engine in the distance instantly changed her mind. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.” She’d never be able to out-ski a snowmobile.
    “Let’s go.” His words bespoke haste; his actions didn’t. Slowly and carefully he rolled off her and into the snow. One arm was held close to his waist as he stood. He used the other to grasp her forearm and hold her steady until she got her feet under her.
    “I’ve got to pick up my skis,” she informed him, stopping herself from brushing off the snow clinging to her clothes. In this light, the more mottled her coloring the better. She noticed he left the snow on his clothes too.
    “Lead on.” He graciously stepped back and let her break the trail.
    She took a couple of seconds to get her bearings before striking off into the forest. The moon was both a blessing and a danger as they melted into the shadows, loping from tree to tree, from light into darkness and back again. Five minutes later