rocky outcropping. Dev joined her, and between them, they secured the boat as

well as they could.

“We’ll be lucky if it doesn’t wash away,” Dev said, her mouth close to Leslie’s

ear.

“We’ll be lucky if we don’t wash away!”

“Come on,” Dev said, taking Leslie’s hand. “Follow me.”

Just as they cleared the underbrush and reached the relative sanctuary of the

forest, a tremendous crash sounded overhead and a giant pine toppled and fell

almost directly on top of them. Dev yanked Leslie with her as she dove off the

trail and against the base of another evergreen. The trunk of the falling pine

ended up canted against the tree that protected them, about four feet above their

heads.

“Are you okay?” Dev yelled.

“Scratched up a bit, but in one piece,” Leslie called back.

“We need to crawl out from under here and head uphill. I’ll go Þ rst. Hold on to

my jeans so you can follow me.”

“Be careful.”

Dev pushed at the branches with one arm and forced a tunnel through them with

her head and shoulders. Now and then she registered discomfort, but her whole

body felt bruised and battered and a little more pain barely mattered. Once she

cleared the maze of branches, she turned on her back and reached down for

Leslie’s arms to pull her free of the debris. Leslie crawled out and collapsed on

top of Dev. The rain was so heavy it felt as if they were at the bottom of a

waterfall and, once again, Dev was breathing water. She coughed.

Leslie sheltered Dev’s upturned face with her body. “You’re bleeding!”

• 151 •

RADCLY fFE

Dev pressed her cheek to Leslie’s chest and managed to draw air into her lungs

instead of rain. “I’m okay. The…campsite’s…a hundred yards from here.

Let’s…go.”

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m good.”

Reluctantly, Leslie slid to the side so Dev could get to her knees.

Then Leslie wrapped her arm around Dev’s waist and helped her up.

When Dev tried to pull away, she tightened her grip. “Don’t be stubborn.

Just get us there.”

Traversing the slope was like walking through a sluice jammed with logs. The

rain was a solid wall of water, and branches skimmed by out of nowhere,

bouncing off their bodies and scraping their faces and hands. After what felt like

an interminable struggle, Dev stumbled to a halt next to a nylon tent. With hands

numb from cold and swollen from batting away projectiles, she fumbled with the

zipper and Þ nally got it open. Together, she and Leslie pushed through the ß

ap, Dev zippered it behind them, and they both collapsed onto Dev’s sleeping

bag.

For Þ ve minutes the only sound in the small tent was the rasp of their arduous

breathing. Then Dev sat up, fumbled in the dark, and Þ nally turned on a

battery-powered lantern. The tent roof and sides billowed in and out as if it

were a living, breathing organism.

“Some storm,” Dev muttered, setting the light on the metal lid of a cooking pot

in one corner of the tent.

“Uh-huh,” Leslie said.

Dev pulled off her anorak and spread it out in one corner. “You shouldn’t have

come.”

With a grunt of effort, Leslie rolled onto her side to face Dev.

Although generously called a four-person tent, the tent was designed for two

people to sleep with just enough space on either side for a little bit of gear. Dev

had obviously brought all of her critical equipment inside, because there was

barely room for the two of them on the sleeping bag.

And that was taking into account the fact that the steel toe of one of Dev’s spare

boots was pressed into Leslie’s backside.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, all hell is breaking loose out there,”

Leslie said.

Dev glared. “My point precisely. That was a crazy stunt. Here, let me have your

jacket.”

Leslie handed Dev her wet rain gear. “If the weathermen had been

• 152 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

even close to accurate, we should’ve had enough time to get back to the

mainland.”

“And when have you ever known that to happen?” Dev leaned down on one

elbow, the length of her body stretched out beside Leslie.

Leslie hesitated. “Point taken.” When Dev smiled, she said more softly, “I really

thought we had another hour or two.”

“I should say thanks for coming,” Dev said quietly, “but I’m still too terriÞ ed to

be gracious.”

“TerriÞ ed?” Leslie arched a brow.

“I was worried about you.” Dev touched a bruise on Leslie’s forehead. “Looks

like you got clobbered with something.”

“A branch, I think.” Leslie traced a Þ ngertip over Dev’s cheek.

“You’re bleeding.”

Dev snorted and rubbed the blood away on her sleeve. “We’re a mess.” She

shivered violently. “And it’s getting cold. We need to get out of these clothes.”

“I don’t have spares.”

“You can wear some of mine.”

Leslie sat up and wrapped her arms around her torso. “Do you have a Þ rst aid

kit? We ought to clean that scrape on your face.”

“The scratch won’t kill me. Let’s get dry Þ rst.”

“Good idea.” Leslie glanced around the interior of the tent while Dev pulled a

duffel into her lap and unzipped it. There was absolutely no possibility of

privacy. Well, that shouldn’t matter. They were both adults and this was an

emergency. Still, Leslie’s throat was irrationally dry. She’d never seen Dev

naked. They hadn’t been in the same phys.

ed. class in high school, and Dev hadn’t played any organized sports.

There’d never been any reason to undress in the locker room in front of one

another.

“Here’s a sweatshirt and jeans. They’ll Þ t you.” Dev handed over the clothes,

piled similar items at her feet for herself, and began unlacing her boots. Without

looking at Leslie, she continued, “I’ve got socks for you but no dry boots.”

“Thanks.” Leslie decided that speed was the best option and hurriedly pulled

her top and bra off together in one quick motion. She was soaked to the skin.

“God, this is miserable.”

“Here’s a towel for your hair. It’s the only one, so we’ll have to sha—” The

words died in Dev’s throat as she half turned to hand Leslie

• 153 •

RADCLY fFE

the towel. Leslie’s arms were extended over her head with the dry sweatshirt

partway down. Her breasts were full and pale, her nipples puckered from the

cold. Even in the lamplight, Dev could see the bluish tint to her skin. “Jesus, Les.

You’re freezing.”

“I’m just—” Leslie went still, staring at Dev between the triangle of her raised

arms as Dev leaned toward her.

Rising to her knees, Dev rapidly wrapped the towel she still held in her hands

around Leslie’s chest and began to rub her vigorously.

“Christ, you’re shaking.”

It wasn’t from the cold. Even through the towel, Leslie could feel Dev’s hands

on her. Her brain told her that Dev was just drying her off, but her body

translated the movements into something quite different. She felt Dev’s palms

cup her breasts and Dev’s thumbs ß ick her nipples. Against her will she arched

her back, lifting her breasts and hips, seeking more contact. Her thighs and

pelvis nestled into Dev.

Leslie caught back a gasp. “You’re wet too. You need to get out of that shirt

and your jeans.”

“In a minute,” Dev muttered, leaning closer to reach Leslie’s back.

“Almost done.”

Leslie couldn’t tolerate the contact any longer. She either needed more, much

more, or she needed to get away from the heat of Dev’s body and the Þ re that

ignited everywhere that Dev touched her. She yanked the sweatshirt down over

her head, and once her hands were free, pushed the towel and Dev away. “Get

dry, Dev.”

Startled by the irritation in Leslie’s voice, Dev stared at the towel in her hands,

then into Leslie’s eyes. Leslie’s pupils were wide and dark, as if she were very

angry or very aroused. Dev wondered what secrets her own eyes revealed,

because while she’d been preoccupied taking care of Leslie, she hadn’t allowed

herself to consider what she’d been touching. But now, even when there was no

contact at all between them, she could feel the weight of Leslie’s breasts in her

hands. She wanted to touch them again. “Take off your pants and get into the

sleeping bag.”

Leslie waited until Dev had turned her back to remove her shirt before unzipping

her own jeans, struggling out of them and her panties, and climbing into the

sleeping bag. Much as she had when Dev had cooked in the kitchen the

previous week, Leslie watched the muscles in Dev’s back ß ex and ripple as she

dried her hair and chest. But in

• 154 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

the kitchen, Dev had worn a shirt. Now the smooth expanse of muscle and skin

shimmered and called to her. Leslie closed her eyes and didn’t open them again

until she felt Dev shift around on the sleeping bag.

“I can’t get my pants on in here unless you get off the bag and give me a little