As soon as he hit Send, he shut off the phone and tossed his pack into the jeep.
He’d tried to plan for any eventuality in the few minutes he had to gather his wits and hit the road. But his one thought was to get to Shea, however he had to do it.
He took a moment to reach into his pack, retrieve his pistol and make sure his clip was loaded. He pulled out the assault rifle, popped in the magazine and then laid it on the seat. He shoved the Glock into the shoulder harness and did a quick inventory of his supplies.
He had no idea what he was up against, but he was prepared for damn near anything.
Automatically he reached for Shea. They hadn’t communicated much during the flight. She needed to rest and regain her strength, but he’d checked in periodically, always afraid that she’d simply be gone.
Shea. I’m here, baby. I’m not far. Where are you?
He felt her stir as though she’d been asleep. He felt her grogginess and then her sudden fear and self-condemnation that she’d allowed herself to drift off. He ached to hold her and to ease her fear, just as she’d once done for him.
I’m in a culvert. She struggled to clear her mind of the cobwebs. There’s a drainage ditch just past the sign saying two miles from the city limits. I hid there.
Sit tight. Don’t move a muscle until I get there.
Nathan roared down the highway, the headlights bouncing erratically off the landscape. He kept at the speed limit because he couldn’t afford to be pulled over with a freaking arsenal in the jeep.
He was traveling in reverse of the way Shea had come in and as a result he passed over the culvert before he realized it. Swearing, he executed a sharp U-turn and spun back around. His headlights flashed over the sign Shea had referenced and he slowed to a crawl until he saw the deep drainage ditch cutting under the road.
His heart nearly stopped as he pulled onto the shoulder. His palms went slick on the steering wheel. His pulse raced so hard he was light-headed.
Just a few feet away was Shea. The woman—the angel—who’d invaded his mind. All his doubts surfaced, but all he had to do was open his door and get out. He would have his proof, and until now he’d had no idea how badly he wanted her to be real.
He needed her.
Needed to touch her. Needed to hold her. Needed to keep her safe.
He grabbed his flashlight, his gun, and scrambled out of the jeep. His feet skidded along the gravel and then he headed down the sharp incline.
“Shea?”
It felt weird to be speaking to her aloud. Her name came out hoarse and unsure. His grip tightened around his pistol when he heard a slight sound from within the culvert.
He shone the light inside as he raised the gun. He was met by wide, frightened eyes. His heart damn near exploded out of his chest. She was real. It was her.
“Shea, it’s me, Nathan.”
She raised her arm to shield her eyes from the light, and he yanked it down so the culvert would be illuminated but she wouldn’t be blinded.
She tried to push herself upward, but she fell and bumped her head on the side of the culvert. He shoved the gun back into the holster then crawled inside, ducking low, and when he reached her, he did what he’d been dying to do from the moment she first slipped into his mind.
He grabbed her into his arms and molded her tight against his chest. She let out a small sigh and melted into his embrace, her body so soft and warm against him.
“You came,” she whispered. “You came.”
“I’d never leave you alone.”
He stroked her hair and tried to calm his racing heart. She was real. She was here in his arms. He couldn’t even take it all in.
Remembering where they were and that he needed to get her to a safer place, he carefully eased backward, putting enough distance between them that he could take her hand.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you out of here.”
She gripped his hand, her fingers digging into his palm. She clung to him like he was her lifeline, but in fact she was his. He eased out of the culvert, one hand holding hers, the other cupped over her head to keep her from hitting it on the way out.
Once outside, she eased upward on unsteady feet. He quickly shone the flashlight beam over her to check for injuries. He frowned when he got to her feet. Her bare, scraped-up, bruised feet.
With a muttered curse, he pocketed the flashlight and then swung her into his arms to carry her up the incline to the jeep.
She didn’t make a sound the entire way. She laid her head on his chest and burrowed into his hold. She clutched his shoulder like she was afraid he’d disappear.
He put her down long enough to throw his gear in the back and then he put her into the passenger seat, securing the seat belt around her. For a moment he stood staring down at her, awed by the fact that she was in front of him. Real. Tangible. Not in his head.
Her blond hair was bedraggled and lay limply against her head. Her blue eyes were dull with fatigue. She was dirty and disheveled, and he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.
He reached out to softly caress her cheek, unable to resist the opportunity to touch her once more. She closed her eyes and slid her cheek over his palm as if she found as much pleasure in his touch as he did in touching her.
The sound of a distant car dragged him abruptly back to awareness. He slammed her door shut and bolted around to the driver’s side. He pulled onto the highway seconds later and directed the jeep into the town of Crescent City.
He felt her gaze on him as he entered the city limits. He glanced sideways to see her staring at him. Did she know how affected he was by her? How gutted he was to finally be face-to-face with her?