Page 9 of Temptation
Luckily, the bracelet was still in place.
And, more wonderful luck, she had soon discovered that she was not, in fact, sprawled on a dead man.
Preston had woken up, she’d tried to calm him, and, acting on instinct, she’d kissed the man. She’d been completely caught off guard by the explosive reaction that had occurred within her body when her lips touched his. Heat whipped through every vein and cell. She’d been hoping to help him, hoping to distract her own self, too, but kissing him…
Wow.
And now he was digging them out. Or, correction, trying to dig them out.
More dirt seemed to rain down on them. No, not rain. Too heavy for that. Boards were breaking. Shattering as Preston battered them with seemingly inhuman strength. There was so little room in the cramped space, but she tried to help. To yank at the wood. To shove away the pouring dirt and put it near their feet so they could have more room but the dirt kept coming. Faster and faster, and he was grabbing her with one hand and trying to yank her with him as he attempted to surge up and out of the coffin.
Sloane took a deep breath.
Preston hauled her up with him. Into the dirt. Through the dirt. The dirt…
Dirt. Everywhere. All over her body. In her mouth. Her eyes. Her nose. Her ears. Beneath her nails. In her shirt. Between her teeth. She’d kept her mouth closed, hadn’t she? How had the dirt gotten past her lips?
Or was her mouth open? Was she screaming?
How long had she been in the dirt? Was she moving upward? Was the dirt pouring down?
Was she screaming?
Was she breathing?
Where was Preston? He’d had her wrist moments ago, his fingers strong around her as he yanked her from the coffin. Or tried to yank her. But maybe it hadn’t been moments before. Maybe it had been longer.
She kicked at the dirt. Clawed and fisted it with her fingers as she tried to?—
A warm, strong hand closed around her left wrist. And suddenly, she was being yanked up. Hard.
Another hand grabbed her right wrist. So hard that…
She felt the bracelet break against her skin.
No! No! She needed that bracelet. If she was going to be found, she had to have— “No!” The cry tore from her lips.
And then she sucked in a deep, heaving haul of air. Air. Precious, amazing, beautiful air. Her eyes opened. Dirt stung them, sending tears streaming down her cheeks, but when her eyes opened, she saw light. So much bright, gorgeous, streaming light. Coming from every direction because there were gigantic lights set up all around her. And there were lights from SUVs and cars and from the fire truck nearby and from?—
“Sloane.” A man’s voice. Deep and dark and commanding.
She was hauled fully out of the dirt. Her broken bracelet fell. The man was holding her wrists, and he yanked her up and against him. A tall, strong man. Powerful.
Not Preston. Preston had not hauled her from the grave.
But over the man’s shoulder, she saw Preston. Two uniformed deputies and a woman who appeared to be an EMT were grabbing his arms and trying to hold him back as he fought to get…
To me.
Preston stared at her with wild eyes. Dirt covered him, and Sloane knew she had to look the same way he did. Dirt everywhere. She was coughing and spitting out dirt as her rescuer held her in a death grip.
“I was so worried,” Atlas Bennett confessed as he hugged her. Normally, Atlas was not a hugger. Not unless he was hugging his wife, Lily. “I was afraid we wouldn’t get you out in time.”
“Sloane!” A feminine voice, screaming out in the night.
And then…Lily was there. Lily Gallo-Bennett shoved her husband to the side, and she grabbed Sloane and held her tightly.
Sloane choked out a sob. She locked her arms around Lily even as her knees gave way. I knew Lily would find me. Because Lily never gave up. Not ever. Because Lily was never afraid of anything or anyone.
