life.
“The good ones are always taken,” Megan said.
Gemma glanced down at the terrified teen, recognizing her attempt at humor for what it was. Megan's body was pressed close to the ladder, her arms twisted tightly around the rungs.
“You better believe it,” Christopher said softly.
Gemma looked back up to find his eyes burning into hers.
Her face flushed. She was confused by his words. The look in his eye told her he was talking about her, but the idea he was seeing someone was a far more likely possibility. And one she found she didn't like at all.
Below her, Gemma could feel the dark open space of the shaft. As much as she wished she could lower the torch to give Megan more light, Donavon and Anne needed it more.
“That should do it,” Donavon said when he got to his feet, absently dusting at the thighs of his black pants.
Gemma immediately shoved the torch in the shaft, its flames flickering in Christopher's glassy eyes. He was in a lot more pain than he was letting on.
“What are you waiting for?” Megan sounded worried when Christopher didn't move.
Christopher grounded his teeth loudly as he flexed his shoulder, trying to manipulate the strap back into place without success.
Gemma could feel Donavon breathing heavily as he came to her side. Before she even thought about what she was doing, Gemma shoved the torch into Donavon's hand and wrapped her arm tightly around the exposed beam. Swinging her leg over, she put her foot into the hole they'd just created.
“Damn it, Gemma,” Christopher said. “Get back in there.”
Gemma ignored him as she leaned across, reaching for his shoulder.
Seeing the grim determination in her eyes, Christopher gave up his protests as Gemma tugged at the strap.
“Sit Becky on the rung,” Gemma said. “It'll take the weight off.”
Christopher rested Becky's bottom on the ladder, and Gemma gently manipulated the strap. “Drop your shoulder.”
“God – that feels good.” Christopher stared at Gemma's mouth as the strap slid over his shoulder, his hand pumping quick fists to restore the circulation. “Now get the hell out of here.”
Gemma pulled herself out, and Christopher jammed his foot through the hole in the wall. Hooking one elbow around the ladder, he leaned sideways until he reached the beam, wrapping his arm tightly around it. The color looked somewhat healthier as he arched his body around the space that was Becky.
Gemma stepped back to give him room. Inside she was jumping up and down and shouting with glee.
Christopher carefully lowered his head and young Becky through, his eyes devouring Gemma. “I meant what I said,” he stated.
Gemma's heart fluttered and she found herself staring at his full lips.
“Do you think you could get me out of here first?” Megan called as Donavon steadied Christopher.
Gemma shook her head, surprised by the direction her thoughts took as Christopher stood there looking weak and vulnerable and sexy as hell in his white trunks.
As Robert encouraged Megan up the ladder, Christopher's gaze locked on Gemma. He moved straight for her, the long, lean muscles of his thighs flexing.
She could smell the sharp tang of sweat and fear as he pulled her to him. Becky squirmed against their chests.
“I've never been so scared in my life.” Christopher's hands shook as he rubbed the sides of Gemma's arms.
Gemma's hands took on a life of their own, reaching up to push the thick, dark hair back from his sweaty brow. Christopher buried his face in her hair. “God – you smell so good.”
They stood like that for what seemed an eternity. Listening as Megan slowly but surely made her way up the ladder under Robert's gentle encouragement.
Christopher's grip tightened at the unmistakable sound of metal vibrating as Megan lost her footing.
“Megan?” Robert's voice was forced.
“Still here,” Megan said.
Gemma let out her breath. She pulled away to look up at Christopher. His pupils were dilated, making his eyes
“The good ones are always taken,” Megan said.
Gemma glanced down at the terrified teen, recognizing her attempt at humor for what it was. Megan's body was pressed close to the ladder, her arms twisted tightly around the rungs.
“You better believe it,” Christopher said softly.
Gemma looked back up to find his eyes burning into hers.
Her face flushed. She was confused by his words. The look in his eye told her he was talking about her, but the idea he was seeing someone was a far more likely possibility. And one she found she didn't like at all.
Below her, Gemma could feel the dark open space of the shaft. As much as she wished she could lower the torch to give Megan more light, Donavon and Anne needed it more.
“That should do it,” Donavon said when he got to his feet, absently dusting at the thighs of his black pants.
Gemma immediately shoved the torch in the shaft, its flames flickering in Christopher's glassy eyes. He was in a lot more pain than he was letting on.
“What are you waiting for?” Megan sounded worried when Christopher didn't move.
Christopher grounded his teeth loudly as he flexed his shoulder, trying to manipulate the strap back into place without success.
Gemma could feel Donavon breathing heavily as he came to her side. Before she even thought about what she was doing, Gemma shoved the torch into Donavon's hand and wrapped her arm tightly around the exposed beam. Swinging her leg over, she put her foot into the hole they'd just created.
“Damn it, Gemma,” Christopher said. “Get back in there.”
Gemma ignored him as she leaned across, reaching for his shoulder.
Seeing the grim determination in her eyes, Christopher gave up his protests as Gemma tugged at the strap.
“Sit Becky on the rung,” Gemma said. “It'll take the weight off.”
Christopher rested Becky's bottom on the ladder, and Gemma gently manipulated the strap. “Drop your shoulder.”
“God – that feels good.” Christopher stared at Gemma's mouth as the strap slid over his shoulder, his hand pumping quick fists to restore the circulation. “Now get the hell out of here.”
Gemma pulled herself out, and Christopher jammed his foot through the hole in the wall. Hooking one elbow around the ladder, he leaned sideways until he reached the beam, wrapping his arm tightly around it. The color looked somewhat healthier as he arched his body around the space that was Becky.
Gemma stepped back to give him room. Inside she was jumping up and down and shouting with glee.
Christopher carefully lowered his head and young Becky through, his eyes devouring Gemma. “I meant what I said,” he stated.
Gemma's heart fluttered and she found herself staring at his full lips.
“Do you think you could get me out of here first?” Megan called as Donavon steadied Christopher.
Gemma shook her head, surprised by the direction her thoughts took as Christopher stood there looking weak and vulnerable and sexy as hell in his white trunks.
As Robert encouraged Megan up the ladder, Christopher's gaze locked on Gemma. He moved straight for her, the long, lean muscles of his thighs flexing.
She could smell the sharp tang of sweat and fear as he pulled her to him. Becky squirmed against their chests.
“I've never been so scared in my life.” Christopher's hands shook as he rubbed the sides of Gemma's arms.
Gemma's hands took on a life of their own, reaching up to push the thick, dark hair back from his sweaty brow. Christopher buried his face in her hair. “God – you smell so good.”
They stood like that for what seemed an eternity. Listening as Megan slowly but surely made her way up the ladder under Robert's gentle encouragement.
Christopher's grip tightened at the unmistakable sound of metal vibrating as Megan lost her footing.
“Megan?” Robert's voice was forced.
“Still here,” Megan said.
Gemma let out her breath. She pulled away to look up at Christopher. His pupils were dilated, making his eyes
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