Arresting Developments

His prey? Right. When had he ever been a hunter? This time he couldn’t contain his laughter. He clamped his hand over his mouth but changed his mind when he started to lose his balance. He grabbed a low-hanging branch on the tree beside him and kept his phone in his right hand, poised to snap his all-important picture.

Good grief, it was hotter than Hades. His friend Jake was a fool to want to live here.

Half-dried mud crunched like sand beneath someone’s feet. Dex leaped out from behind the tree, snapping pictures.

No one was there.

He shifted and heard the crunching sound again. He looked down, wiggled his toes in his shoes. Crunch. Wiggle. Crunch. Wait. Was that him making that noise?

A shadow shifted beside him. He whirled around, snapping pictures as he fell to the ground. The shadow became a beautiful woman standing over him, her face mirroring concern. As she reached out a delicate-looking hand, he snapped another picture, then let his hands fall to his sides. All his strength had strangely drained away.

Her blessedly cool hand touched his brow. It felt so good he pushed his head against her palm.

“You’re burning up,” she said.

He blinked until he could focus on her face. His breath caught. “Canoe Girl! I waved at you.” He frowned and waggled his finger. “You didn’t wave back.”

“I...must not have seen you. Sorry.”

“No worries. I’m Dex. But you can just call me Dex.”

“O...kay. Dex. Let’s take a look at that leg of yours.”

He grinned up at her. “Honey, you can look at anything you want.”

She rolled her eyes and moved to his right leg. He lifted his head to watch, but it felt so heavy he dropped it back down.

“Ouch.” He rubbed his head, wondering why it suddenly hurt.

Cool air rushed against his heated skin as she pulled his pant leg up.

“Hey, Canoe Girl. What’s your name?”

“Canoe Girl works.” She drew in a sharp breath. “I’m guessing you didn’t have these red lines going up and down your calf before the crash.”

“Nope.” He dropped his phone and used both hands to lift his heavy head to look at her. “I’m guessing that’s a bad thing?”

She nodded. “Could be. If not treated right away.” She looked past him. “No one in Mystic Glades knows how to treat something like this, unless things have changed.”

“Unless things have changed? You don’t live there, Canoe Girl?”

“Um, no.” She pushed his pant leg down.

“But you’re familiar with it. You used to live there?”

She shot him a look. He should have known what that look meant, but her face went out of focus and he closed his eyes.

“Do you have any medicine in your plane?” she asked.

“Nope. Fresh out. Where do you live, beautiful?”

“That must be one bad fever.” She brushed her hands on her shorts and stood. “We’ve got to get you to Mystic Glades. Someone there will take you to the hospital. Come on.” She held her hand out to him.

He frowned, not at all pleased. “Do I have to get up? It’s kind of comfy down here. It would be even more comfy if you lay down with me.”

“No, thanks. We need to get moving. Come on.” She grasped his hand.

He sighed heavily and tugged his hand out of hers. “I’ll do it by myself. You’re a tiny little thing. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He rolled over and forced himself up on his knees. A pair of surprisingly strong arms grabbed him around his waist and helped him stand. He staggered and she pulled his right arm around her shoulders, keeping her other arm around his waist.

Impressed, he smiled down at her and patted the top of her head. “You’re stronger than you look, little one.”

“And you don’t smell anywhere near as good as you look. So let’s get this over with.”

He let out a crack of laughter. “Now that’s one I’ve never heard before. My apologies. I think it’s eau de jet fuel mixed with eau de swamp water.”

She didn’t respond. All in all, his little rescuer didn’t seem to have much of a sense of humor. Too bad. Making a woman smile, seeing joy light up her eyes, was one of his greatest pleasures. Especially when they were making love.

The infernal heat seemed worse now. And the growing stiffness in his leg was making walking more and more of a chore. Even with Canoe Girl’s help, his steps were growing slower and slower. He stumbled and grabbed a tree for support.

“You can do it,” she urged, pulling him back from the tree.

“Actually, I’m not sure that I can. How much farther do we have to go?”

“A hundred yards, give or take.”

He squinted at the wavering shapes in front of him then gave her an admonishing look. “You’re teasing me. I don’t see any buildings. It must be farther than that to Mystic Glades.”

“It’s a hundred yards to my canoe. Make it there and I can take you the rest of the way to town.”

A wave of dizziness had him grabbing another tree. “I don’t...think I can...make it that far.”

“Sure you can. What are you, six-two? You’re a big, strong guy. Just put one foot in front of the other. Close your eyes if it makes it easier.”

He took a shaky step. “I don’t suppose you have a four-wheeler hidden behind a tree somewhere closer than the canoe?”

“I’m fresh out of four-wheelers today.”

“Bummer. I would have liked to ride a four-wheeler, especially with a pretty girl. Everything’s better with a pretty girl.” He winked and tried to grin, but the effort required more energy than he had left. “So...tired.” He fell to his knees and surrendered to the darkness.

Chapter Three (#ulink_920b3a50-c727-5c7c-94bb-db999735195b)

Amber groaned and sank to her knees beside the handsome stranger with the corny yet kind of endearing sense of humor. Eau de jet fuel? If she hadn’t been so worried about his fever she might have laughed at that. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed.

Now that he was unconscious, how was she supposed to help him? Even though her canoe was a short jog away, it might as well have been miles. There was no way she could drag him that far. And even though he certainly wasn’t packing any extra pounds, all those scrumptious-looking muscles had to amount to a lot of weight.

She pressed her hand to his forehead again and grimaced. He was like a furnace. If she didn’t get his fever down soon he might have a seizure. And those red lines on his leg meant he had blood poisoning. That was probably what was causing the fever. That kind of infection could easily kill him no matter how big and strong he was.

She pulled his phone out of her pocket. When he’d dropped it earlier, she’d picked it up, planning on erasing the pictures he’d taken of her before returning the phone to him. But right now she just wanted to see if she could call for help, even though odds were high there wasn’t any reception out here. When she’d made the swamp her home, she’d had a cell phone but had quickly learned that it was useless in about 99 percent of the Glades. She did know a few spots that got reliable reception, but they were much deeper into the swamp, too far away to be of use right now.