by Cindy Dees
Karen frowned. “Physically, like I’ve been worked over with a baseball bat. Mentally, exhausted. Emotionally—” She thought about that one for a moment. “Irritable. That underlying anger I told you about is still there.”
Aleesha’s expression was sober. “I’d sure as hell like to know what was in that powder you went swimming in at the cabin. At least you didn’t ingest much of it. All I can tell you right now is to keep talking. Communicate your frame of mind to Anders or whatever Medusa is with you. Okay? No matter how much it pisses you off. We need the feedback so we can help you.”
“Yeah, so I don’t murder one of you,” Karen replied wryly.
Aleesha laughed easily. “Well, there is that.”
The door opened again. Great. Her and Anders’ hut was turning into Grand Central Station. This time Vanessa blew in on a gust of wind and sunlight.
“Phone call for you, Oberstløytnant.”
He put the device to his ear, listened for a moment, and replied in rapid Norwegian.
Karen murmured to Vanessa while Anders engaged in what sounded like a bit of an argument, “How’s Jack doing?”
“Fine. Why?”
“He’s not too mad at me, is he?”
“Heavens no. He knows you’d never try to kill him if there weren’t something seriously wrong with you.” Vanessa added lightly, “If anything, he’s impressed you got that close to him. He admitted to me that if you hadn’t stopped on your own, you’d have had him.”
Karen glanced over in Anders’ direction as he disconnected the call. Apparently, he hadn’t told the Medusas that he’d had a rifle trained on her back and had been on the verge of shooting her. Jack would never have died. She would have, instead.
“Vanessa, there’s something you should know—” she started.
Anders interrupted. “That’s right. There is something. My headquarters has denied your request to blow up the drug lab. That was my boss’s boss, and he insists that we need positive proof of what’s going on in that cabin before they’ll send out a sortie to blow it up.”
Aleesha replied, “As soon as that powder’s identified, they’ll have their proof. How’s that coming along, anyway?”
He shrugged. “They’re working on the sample you sent them. Still no identification. They’ve sent some of the powder down to Oslo for analysis.”
“Keep me informed. I want to know the second your people get an ID on that stuff.”
Anders nodded. “That’s what I told them. They promised to call.”
Karen sighed. “So, I’m a ticking time bomb, and we still don’t know what’s setting me off.”
Anders chuckled. “Go ahead. Blow up. You can’t take me.”
Karen scowled at him. “I took you once. I can do it again.”
“Hah. I bet you twenty krone you can’t.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “You’re on. If I try to kill you and I fail, I owe you twenty krone. If I succeed, I’m taking it out of your wallet.”
He laughed. “Deal.”
Karen couldn’t help but laugh back.
Aleesha put a hand on her shoulder. “Keep laughing, sister. That may be the best medicine of all for what ails you.”
Aw geez. Now she was going to cry. After what she’d nearly done, the support of her teammates was a gift she hadn’t expected, let alone their understanding and forgiveness.
Aleesha and Vanessa, likely sensing her need to be alone and collect herself, ducked out of the hut. But Anders, being a man, showed no such finely honed sensitivity and prodded the tender spot. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
She sighed. “I’m not generally one of those women who spends my life wearing my heart on my sleeve. It’s not my style to run around announcing what particular emotion I’m experiencing at any given moment.”
He replied quietly. “I’m sorry to have to pry into your privacy like this. For what it’s worth, anything you say is safe with me.”
“Thanks.” A pause. “And thanks for not telling the others about how you nearly had to kill me. Why didn’t you, by the way?”
He shrugged. “It seemed like something personal. Between the two of us. You’d have cared enough for me to do the same. You wouldn’t have let me live with killing a comrade in cold blood on my conscience.”
She studied him for a long time. She had to think about that one. Would she have killed him? Because she cared for him? She grasped what he was getting at, but it was a strange way of looking at it. He would have killed her precisely because he cared for her enough not to let her descend into the hell of having killed Jack.
Quietly, she said, “Honestly, I’m an emotional wreck right now. I’m experiencing everything too strongly. I’m too guilty and too grateful and too teary-eyed.”
“In other words, you’re feeling hormonal.”
She laughed. “Norwegian women get that way, too, huh?”
He grinned. “I don’t have much time for women, but in my experience, yes, they do.”
Karen scoffed. “A good-looking guy like you? An Olympic skier? Surely you’re a big celebrity in Norway. Women must flock to you.”
He shrugged. “I don’t pay much attention to them. They don’t understand who I am or what I do.”
“Aren’t the two one and the same? A special operator is who you are, and it’s what you do.”
He smiled. “See? You get it. But most women don’t.”
She wasn’t most women. She was a killer. One who’d come a hair from losing the edge.
“Quit beating yourself up.”
She glanced up at Anders. “I beg your pardon?”
“I know that look. You’re feeling bad about what almost happened. But, it didn’t happen. You pulled back from the abyss and stopped yourself. I can’t imagine the strength of will that took. Jack doesn’t blame you and I don’t blame you and your teammates don’t blame you. So stop blaming yourself.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Understood. But try.” He added, “For me?”
One corner of her mouth quirked up ruefully. “How can I say no to that?”
“You can’t. I’m a big celebrity who’s irresistible to women, remember?”
She snorted. “Yeah. And modest, too.”
“How about a bite to eat and then a little exercise?”
“Doctor’s orders?” she asked.
He nodded. “Mamba thinks it may help even out the chemicals in your body.”
“What did you have in mind?”
His eyes twinkled. “Have you ever cross-country skied?”
“No. I hear it’s grueling. Uses every muscle in the body and hurts like hell.”
“That’s what I hear, too.”
She laughed at that one. “You’re going to kick my butt, aren’t you?”
“’Fraid so. I’m going to ski you into the ground, and I’ll just be getting warmed up.”
Still laughing, she said, “Let’s go, medal boy. Let’s see what you’re made of.”
Lakvik, Norway, March 9, 3:00 a.m.
Karen jerked awake. It was cold and still and dark. The fire was nothing more than a few glowing embers. But heat rolled up and out of her gut. The inferno was back. Why in the hell did they think something was wrong with her anyway? She was in complete control. She owned the power, knew how to ride the wave. They were just jealous. They didn’t know how to harness the rage—
“Anders,” she ground out between clenched teeth.
He sat up immediately. Smart boy. He’d slept fully dressed.
“It’s back.”
He didn’t have to ask what “it” was. “Fight it, Karen. Stay with me.” He moved around the fire pit to kneel in front of her.
“I need to hit something.”
Anders picked up his sleeping bag. Wrapped it around his right hand and forearm. “Have at it.”
Karen stared. “Really?” The rage leapt and whirled in delight.
He gave her a challenging look. Challenging? Did he have
no idea what he was doing, provoking her like that? She hauled off and slugged his hand. Her fist plowed through the layers of padding and found bone with a satisfying thud. She felt no pain.
He snorted. “You hit like a girl.”
The rage flared, white-hot. Arrogant jerk! She hauled off and slugged the light-gray mass of fabric and down feathers again.
“Harder.”
She glared. They didn’t call her She-man for nothing! She pounded on the sleeping bag again. And again. She pummeled it with both fists like a punching bag. God, that felt good. The crunch of bone on yielding tissue, the impact up her arms. Faceless and nameless, that blob took on a life of its own, and she was going to kill it dead. She attacked it until sweat rolled freely down her face.
Finally, she drew back panting. Man, it felt good to have that out of her system. The beast was not finished, but it was appeased for the moment. Silent, Anders handed her a towel. She mopped off her face. He passed her a bottle of water. She slugged down the whole thing. He sat down beside the fire and she followed suit.
She broke the silence first. “Are you sure you want to sit this close to me? I could hurt you, you know. You’d never see it coming. I’d lunge, and then I’d have you by the throat—” she broke off. “I can picture the blood that would spray all over them. It’s so beautiful—”
Strong hands gripped her shoulders. “Look at me!” The voice was sharp. Commanding.
She glared up at him, fighting the fury with all her might. She reached desperately for her sense of humor. “Don’t tell me what to do! I killed that sleeping bag with my bare hands, after all. Didn’t you know I’m a goddess?”
He chuckled. “Sorry. I didn’t get that memo. Tell me your name.”
“Karen. Karen Turner.”
“Where are you from?”
“Who cares?” she shot back, losing the hold on her humor. She fought to regain it.
“Tell me about the farm you grew up on. How many pigs did your father have?”
Startled, she spat out the answer.
“What did your bedroom look like?”
She described the cast-iron bed, the pink-and-white gingham-check curtains and lace bedspread she’d secretly loved, the picture of her mother over her bed, looking down on her like an angel from Heaven. And the rage began to waver.
“Tell me about going fishing with your father. Where was your favorite fishing hole?”
Her father loved her deeply. Didn’t know what to do with a girl, so he did what he knew how to do with her anyway. He taught her to fly fish. To tie lures.
“Tell me about your favorite lure,” Anders prompted.
“No.”
“Do it.” His words lashed at her. Flayed back every defense she erected against him. Invaded her mind and dragged out memories she didn’t want to think about by main force.
She answered that question. And the next, and the next. His words broke down every wall she tried to build to keep him out of her mind. Inch by inch, her rage gave way before the onslaught.
How long he made her talk about all the humble, mundane, everyday details of growing up, she didn’t know. Long enough so her throat felt raw and dry. A couple of hours, maybe. Anders’ interrogation left no detail of her life alone. The thought made her squirm in shame. But there was no help for it. He demanded answers, and she clung to the sanity his questions pulled from her.
And somewhere in there, the worst of the madness loosed its chokehold on her mind. The rage receded, taking with it the strange sense of invincibility. Arrogance was a foreign state of mind to her, and it left a sour taste in her mouth.
Finally, her shoulders slumped. Sudden exhaustion swept over her. She stared down at her hands, red from where she’d clenched them desperately to keep from wrapping them around Anders’ throat. Fingers touched her cheek lightly, and she jerked away, startled. Looked up. Anders was studying her intently. After a moment, his mouth curved up in a gentle smile. “Welcome back.”
“How do you know it’s me?”
“The real Karen is looking back at me now. You have such beautiful eyes.”
She had no defenses left against him. Not after what they’d just been through. She said aloud exactly what was in her heart, with no will to stop the words from coming. “So do you. Everything about you is beautiful.”
“I can’t say that’s something I’ve been called much, but thank you.”
“Handsome, then. Attractive. Movie-star gorgeous.”
He shrugged as though she’d embarrassed him. He looked away, then seemed to force his gaze back to her. “I’m sorry for what I just put you through.”
“Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who just spilled her entire life story on you. You know what they say. Familiarity breeds contempt.”
He frowned. “I admire your family. They gave you wholesome values. Taught you to stand up for yourself but still think of others. They pulled together through good and bad times. I wish my own family had been so close.”
Karen smiled. “You realize that it’s only fair you tell me all the deep dark secrets of your childhood now.”
“All in good time. For now, do you feel like you could get some sleep?”
“I don’t know. I suppose so.”
He stood up with that easy, athlete’s power of his and went around the fire. He laid out his mangled sleeping bag on his air mattress and dragged both around to her side of the fire.
Alarm coursed through her. “What are you doing?”
“A little enlightened self-protection. I need to get some sleep, but I want to feel if you move.” And then he grinned. “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. This has nothing to do with any desire to hold you in my arms.”
“Hold me in your—” Karen spluttered.
He plopped his bed gear down beside hers and stretched out next to her, his arms opened invitingly. “Come. Join me. We’ll share body heat and get some rest.”
He had to be kidding.
“After all,” he added, “you did kill my sleeping bag.”
“Did I really?” She sat up to look at the fluffy nylon and down mass. It looked okay to her.
“It’s fine. I’m just making excuses to get you to sleep with me. Please?”
Stunned, she scooted over beside him and lay down with her back to him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she lay there as stiff as a board. What in the hell was she supposed to do now?
Almost as if he’d picked the thought out of her brain, he murmured, “Relax. I won’t bite.”
Easy for him to say! She lay there for several agonizing minutes. She’d give anything to be able to roll over and wrap her arms around him, to bury her face in his shoulder, to tell him how grateful she was that he was there and she wasn’t alone.
His voice came out of the darkness. “I suppose now’s not the best time to tell you I’ve been attracted to you ever since I first saw you.”
Yeah, right, she thought skeptically. “You mean when I was lying on top of you holding a knife to your neck?”
His chest vibrated with a chuckle against her back. “Yup. I was a goner. How could I resist a woman who could do that?”
Her thoughts locked up, frozen solid. Anders was attracted to her?
She half rolled in his arms to stare up at him. “Are you serious, or are you just saying that to make me feel better about all the stuff you ripped out of me with your merciless interrogation methods?”
He propped himself up on an elbow and grinned down at her. “That’s me. The cruel, sadistic Norwegian.”
The very idea of steady, solid Anders actually being sadistic made her laugh. “Yup, you Norwegians are hard-core.”
His face was all shadows and dark planes. “I am serious about being attracted to you. I wouldn’t joke about something like that.”
Well, okay, then. She frowned up at him. “I really want to believe you. But…”
“Who put it in your head that you’re not attractive or feminine or lovable?”
&
nbsp; “It’s little comments I’ve gotten here and there. Getting dumped over and over for petite, fragile girls. Heck, even Jack takes his potshots at me. Did you know he calls me She-man?”
Anders’ eyes narrowed to irritated slits of blackness. “I should have let you kill him.”
“No, no. You did the right thing.” Then she added reflectively, “The knife was too fast a way to go. Next time, let me strangle him. Slowly.”
He chuckled. “You’ve got yourself a deal. Maybe that’s why you fixated on him in the first place. Because he called you names.”
“But, I’m a Special Forces soldier, for God’s sake. I have a tougher hide than that. So what if he calls me names?”
Anders shrugged. “There’s the job, and then there’s the personal stuff. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the two when so much of your life revolves around your work. I know I’m not very good at it. Otherwise I’d be enjoying more of those groupies you seem to think hang out around me all the time.”
She tilted her head to study him. “To be honest, you don’t strike me as a womanizer. You seem more like the kind to find one woman and be loyal to her forever.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re right. And I happen to have found one.”
Karen shook her head. “But I’m a nutcase.”
“No, you’re not,” he retorted forcefully.
She sighed. “Face it, Anders. Any way you slice it, I’m a menace. You’re taking your life in your hands to be around me.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Chapter 14
Lakvik, Norway, March 9, 7:00 a.m.
And he was still there when she woke up. Sometime in the night fatigue had finally overcome her wonder and she’d drifted off to sleep. The two of them had cuddled together through the night—out of no need whatsoever to share warmth. It had been more than nice. It had been pure bliss. It was amazing to let down her physical guard to go along with the emotional guard she’d lost to him. For the first time, she felt really comfortable with him.
Maybe some of it was the fact that by sleeping with him, she got a true sense of him being bigger and stronger than her. Maybe some of it was the fact that he’d volunteered to be there with her. Or maybe it was his mostly unconscious—but very real—sigh of contentment when she rolled over in the wee hours and succumbed to the urge to wrap her arms around him and find the crook of his shoulder with her cheek. Heck, maybe it was all of the above.