Craved

Renee:

Renee noticed the shadow behind her following her for several steps, but she pushed aside the urge to stop trailing her hand along the ancient cave wall. Arched doorways stretched high above her. How many people did it take to build this underground city? Last time she looked; Travis plodded after her. Her fingers traced over the grooves in the volcanic rock, carved as early as the seventh century B.C.E. However, there was no way to know for certainty when or who made the caves. Experts argued between the Biblical Hittites to Phrygians, related to the Trojans. Christians were expelled from Cappadocia in the 1923 population exchange between Turkey and Greece. Forty years later, no one knew the hidden tunnels existed until a man located a room behind a wall in his home.

If she could go back in time and watch the ancients sculpting these walls, she'd witness why they had used the tunnels. The scent of rock and dirt and chilly air drew her in deeper. She made several turns, curious about what lay beyond. Yellow fluorescent lights dimly lit the cave, tacked along the ceiling every hundred feet or so, the white wires connected them like an electric spider web. She sneezed. Dirt was caked on her hiking boots.

"Aren't you supposed to stay with the group?" a man whispered next to her.

Jumping, she spun. There, with a cocky grin on his face, stood Damon. "What are you doing here?" And where was everyone else?

"Keeping you from getting lost."

"I'm not lost." She pushed past him. "The group is back this way."

But when she marched to her left, the way she'd come, she entered a room she'd never seen before. The sign said Winery. Damon invaded her personal space of two feet away, and even in this dull cave, he looked too sexy and distracting. His skin glowed as if the sunset illuminated it.

"Alright, must be this way." She stomped in the opposite direction, but it didn't seem right either.

"Care to allow me?" He bowed his head slightly and held out a hand.

"No. I can find it on my own." She debated which way to go next. Normally she wasn't bad with directions, but here everything looked the same. All Damon's fault. If he hadn't distracted her, she'd be back with the group now.

He held up his hands as she hurried past him to a different passageway. Yes, this looked familiar. She remembered the markings on the wall.

"This is the wrong way, let's go back," he said, his tone more insistent.

"I am perfectly capable of making my way to the group. Why don't you go your direction, and I'll go mine?" How funny would it be if she and the others searched for him?

His way even looked wrong; the cave broke into a sharp angle. She would've remembered passing it. Right?

"No, I can hear the others a few caves away. This way."

Absurd! He couldn't hear anything from there except the distant trickle of water somewhere. Still, she strained, listening. Nothing. "I'm trying this way first." Not waiting for him to respond, she snaked ahead. When his hiking boots thumped behind her and kicked rocks, she smirked.

When he discovers I'm right, I'll do a victory dance. But after five more passageways, and even backtracking, she was completely lost. Surely there was a you-are-here-map somewhere. She shuffled forward until they were in an enclosed room. "You know, this charade wasn't necessary." Was that amusement in his voice? "If you wanted me alone, just tell me," he continued.

She gritted her teeth. "I must have taken a wrong turn."

All the tunnels leading to the chambers looked the same like a giant stone beehive. Her gaze darted back and forth. She hadn't gone far; it should be close. Her breathing sped up as the walls closed in. Dizziness pressed along the edges of her vision, the room spinning like a merry-go-round, but she would not faint. Not here, and not in front of Damon.

When she trudged past him, he grasped her arm. "Wait. Calm down before you get us even more lost."

"Do you know where we are?" she asked sweetly as she pulled away from him and backed further into the room.

"I did. Until a few paces ago. I asked you to wait, but you seemed set on charging ahead."

Water dripped from what looked like some type of shaft. This must have been where the inhabitants got water if they couldn't go back to the surface for a while. She bent to look at it more closely. When a rumbling sounded, she rose on trembling legs. "What was that?"

"A tremor?" He frowned.

The ground shook while rocks and dirt fell from the cave opening.

"Oh my God!" she yelled. "We have to get out of here."

But he snatched her arm before she took a step further, pushed her down then lay his body over hers.

"Get off me!"

"Stop yelling." His next words were drowned out as rocks and part of the ceiling smacked together with the sound of boulders crashing into each other.

Dust clouded around them. A few rumblings later, and the earthquake subsided. She coughed and cradled into him. Tiny rocks continued to rain as he rose and helped her up. She waved a hand in front of her to dissipate the cloud circulating around them. The exit, the only one in this small chamber, was completely blocked by huge rocks. Bile rose in her throat. A cave-in.

"If you hadn't stopped me, we could have gotten into one of the passageways and not gotten trapped." She ran a hand through hair tangled with dirt and pebbles.

"Me?" He pointed at her. "You were the crazy one drifting in circles."

"Well, if you hadn't gotten in my way..."

"Exactly." His eyes almost looking like a purple haze illuminated them, "Otherwise, you'd be underneath there."

"Thank you for saving me." She twisted her birthstone ring on her finger. They were stuck. When would they be found?

He nodded.

The dust made her cough again, and she dug out one of the water bottles, then took a sip. Where was his pack? Oh, probably Mr. Arrogance refused one. If the situation were reversed, she'd be glad for an offer of water. "Here." Grudgingly, she handed it to him.

"Thanks." He gave her a look as if he didn't know what to catalog her under. Then he took the smallest sip she'd ever seen before handing it back to her.

Did he think they'd be here awhile? Water trickled down this airshaft rock sculpture, but was it safe to drink? Possibly, since it cascaded and the people in the past must have drunk from it. The water reserve took up a large part of the cave-in the corner.

"How long before they find us, do you think?" She sat crossed legged on a boulder against one of the walls. Her fault they'd gotten lost in the first place. If she'd swallowed her pride and let him lead, they'd be with the others now. Her hand covered her mouth. What if they were trapped in a cave-in too, or worse?

"I'm sure the others are fine." He crept to the blocked opening as if looking for a way out. "The tour guide would know what to do when the first tremor hit."

She clutched the tour company's pack to her. Of all the people in the group to get stuck with, why did it have to be him? She sighed. At least it was better than being alone. How much damage was done to the tunnels? What if they couldn't get to them in time?

There wasn't enough air. She hunched her shoulders and put her head on her knees. Her heart thumped against her chest as if it too struggled against a great weight. Damon's hands were on her shoulders. "Look at me!"

Blackness swirled at the edge of her vision. Then his fingers grazed underneath her chin and lifted her face until she met his eyes. "You're safe. We will get out of here."

Panting, she gasped, "What if we run out of air?" She expected him to laugh or mock her, but his dark blue eyes filled with warmth...or sympathy?

"The water has found its way in here. There's a tiny patch of sunlight on the ceiling." He pointed. "There, in the corner at the top. We have plenty of air."

"What light?" Except the glow from the lantern-type light bolted to the wall. "You're only telling me this so I don't panic."

"No." He rubbed her arms, his gaze focused on her face. "I wouldn't lie to you. Not about this."

Tingles spread from her hands and up her arms. Shocked at her reaction, she withdrew her hands.

"Now, why don't you have some of the jerky from your pack?" He nodded and rose.

"What about you?" She made a point to look around the rock chamber, even though she knew he didn't have his pack. "Where's your tour bag?"

His sheepish smile made her curious about what type of mischief he'd gotten into as a boy. "I didn't think I needed it, so I left it."

As much as she'd be happy to tell him he behaved like an arrogant moron, she didn't. "I'll share some of mine."

His face softened. "Thank you, but I ate a big breakfast. I'm not hungry. You should go ahead though. Probably near lunchtime now."

Him? Eat a huge meal? In all the time she worked for him, he'd hardly eaten. If he weren't fit and muscular, she'd think his food would barely feed an anorexic bird. As a precaution, she only tore off half the jerky and ate it. She wrapped up the rest and stuffed it back into the tunnels' tour pack.

"Some water then?" She offered her water again after she took a big gulp to wash out the salty taste of the jerky.

"Sure." He accepted the bottle, and their fingers met.

A pleasant electric current ran through her and made her toes curl. What would kissing him be like if he affected her this much with a mere brush of fingers?

After taking two small sips, he handed it back to her. "Thank you."

For a while, he checked their enclosed spot. When she asked what he was doing, he told her he was looking for openings or gaps. Finding none, he sat across from her, his legs stretched out toward her and his back against the wall. The lantern flickered but stayed on.

She caught him staring at her, or rather her breasts. When her hand instinctively went to her necklace over her fitted T-shirt, he drew in a sharp breath and stared at the far wall. Was he abashed to be caught ogling her breasts? Damon seemed lost in whatever lustful thoughts raced through his mind, and only when she stirred did it break his reverie.

"Since we'll be here a while, why don't you tell me about your family and where you're from? You're not the black sheep, are you?" He cocked his head, his eyes lighting up as if he teased her.

"My stepdad would say yes." She doodled in the dirt. "I haven't spoken to him since I was eighteen. I only visit my mother once or twice a year. On her birthday, which conveniently is Christmas Day, and then again on Mother's Day."

She wouldn't tell him why or how her mom had shriveled in the years with her stepdad from the independent single mom to a shell. If she and Damon were stuck here longer than a few days, Renee might tell him everything to keep the panic swelling in her chest from making her crazy. For now, she could deal.

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"No." She scooted around to get more comfortable. "I don't want to talk about my family. What about you?"

"Okay," he said in an unbelieving tone, but he obeyed her wishes. "I've always been close to my family. I've got a sister and a brother. Both irritate me to no end, but I love them. I'm the oldest and my brother the youngest." He shrugged. "Guess he's always thought he didn't get enough attention since he races cars, motorcycles-anything fast. Danger is his favorite word."

"And your sister?" She'd always thought she'd have siblings. Before Dad died, she'd been hopeful her parents would have lots of children.

He grinned, and she found herself smiling too.

"Samara is something else. As the only girl, my parents spoiled her, but she tried to be one of the boys. She acts tough like she doesn't need anyone, but there's a softness in her heart, and she's passionate about books and research. My cousin, Adeline, thinks of herself as our sister. Samara and Adeline were inseparable and constantly getting into trouble."

"Sounds like an amazing childhood." Part of her was envious.

He placed his hands behind his head. "Tell me about your favorite class."

"My class?" The question confused her. Her college courses for her MBA or her middle school history class?

"Yes, your résumé said you taught history." He paused. "Middle schoolers, I believe?"

"It's high school this year." Wow, he'd remembered. Obviously, he was trapped in here with her and talking was the only way to pass the time without the awkward silence between them. "My third year of teaching, I had a student who couldn't read. At first, I didn't understand what was wrong. I would do my lecture and act out battles, which he seemed to love. I'd give him an article or tell the class to read a chapter in their book, and he would stare off into space. Or look at the pictures.

"His grades were terrible. Tests, even multiple-choice, took him forever to finish and he hardly got a right answer. I couldn't understand it." She shook her head. "He was bright and appeared genuinely interested in the subjects, but his work didn't reflect that. One day, I had an idea for the class to read a William Shakespeare play edited for children. I gave each one a part and they had at least one line or two to say from A Midsummer Night's Dream."

He stiffened. Did he not like Shakespeare?

"So, when it came his part in the play, he bolted out of the room. Later, when I found him crying in a stairwell, he confessed he couldn't read. On tests, he'd guessed. Never turned in homework. I worked with him before and after school. Within the school year, he scored at a second-grade level for reading. The year before I volunteered for my first archeological dig, we worked every day at his mom's house she was a stay-at-home mom with three other kids who ran in and out teasing Josh to come and play with them." Pride filled her. "But he never gave up. By the time he started school in the fall, he tested above his grade level."

"Marvelous." His eyes sparkled. "You changed his life for the better."

Even though she beamed a grin at him, her cheeks heated. At the time, she hadn't focused on herself or the hours she spent with Josh instead of studying for her Masters' Degree. Or going on a dig. She'd helped him to read. To open the world to him. Josh was in high school now; she should check in with him in addition to the birthday and Christmas cards she sent him.

He always asked her about her digs before he left for high school. "Yes, he even talked about becoming an archeologist, but I think engineering won out."

"Oh?"

"Decided he didn't like getting the extra shots necessary for traveling."

Damon laughed, and the sound warmed her.

"Have you heard from your lawyers? I'd like to uncover more of the temple before the end of summer."

"If I had a signal, I'd check." He stretched his arms overhead. "One way or another though, I will get answers. Too much bureaucracy over a patch of land they were eager to accept money for. It just doesn't make sense why'd they changed their mind."

A chill swept over her, and she pressed her arms against her stomach.

"Here." He took off his jacket and handed it to her.

Thankfully, it was a sports jacket and not the leather one with the love note in the pocket. And he'd talked her through her anxiety earlier about being trapped. His caring and concern made her conflicted with the arrogant sexy man she'd thought he was. Maybe there was more to Damon than she believed.

He lifted his chin in her direction. "Or we could huddle for body warmth?"