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Blinking away tears, I rolled out of the bush I’d fallen into and slumped onto the damp ground. Dead leaves stuck to my muddy arms and legs, but I didn’t have enough energy to pluck them off.
“I’m coming. Don’t move.” His frantic voice was laced with fear, yet his climbing movements were strong and controlled despite the brutal scars that crisscrossed his body.
“I'm here.” I lifted a trembling hand, attempting to wave. “Here.”
My feelings for him surged to the surface, filling the space in my heart I’d forgotten existed.
“Layla.” The sound of my name, deep and raw, shattered my resolve and a sob burst from my lips. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks and I heaved so hard I couldn’t breathe.
Hunter crashed through a bush. And there he was, bruised and bloodied, brave and beautiful.
“Oh, thank God.” He rushed forward, his gaze devouring me like a starving man.
A messy lump of emotion sat in my chest as he pulled me into his arms.
As I hugged him, tears spilled from my eyes. He was real. Solid. Here.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured into my hair.
His words seeped into my soul. I squeezed my eyes shut, and sucking in air, I came alive, inhaling his scent.
He pulled back and relief flooded his face. “Layla . . .”
“Thank you.”
His features were so perfect. Manly. Strong. His eyes told a story, and that story included me.
“I can’t believe you survived that fall.” He gave me one of his smiles that wrapped my world in a delightful bubble.
“I know. I think I hit every leaf on the way down and thank God for the mud.” I showed him my mud-covered arms and pulled off a couple of leaves.
“You got lucky.” A dozen emotions swept across his expression, and my heartbeat went crazy in my chest.
Frowning, I peered up at the helicopter wreck. “Where are the others?”
“They’re still up there.”
“Oh no. Are they . . . are they?” Words tangled in my throat.
“Cody was unconscious, and Booker’s legs are trapped. Wyatt is good though, so he’s staying with them.”
Leaving those men cut Hunter to his core. I saw it in his beautiful, soulful eyes.
“So, what do we do now?”
He pulled the GPS from a pocket in his vest, peered up at the wreck, and then pressed a button on the side of the device. “We go get help.”
“How?”
“When we don’t return in that chopper, our boss, Hank, will send a team to the coordinates you gave me to find us. So, we need to get back to your lab in time to meet them.”
“But what about those men with the guns?”
He swiveled his rifle around to his chest. “Let me worry about them.”
I nodded.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Are you okay to walk?”