“How did they find us, Alec?” Erin’s tremulous question sobered him, cutting through the haze of lust that had engulfed him. When he glanced over his shoulder, the fright he saw in her eyes slapped him with the truth. His first priority was keeping Erin safe, not ravishing her.
“My guess is the person who sold Daniel and me out in Colombia is closer to the team than I’d originally thought. Maybe even within our ranks. We’ll have to consider everyone as suspect until I can root out the bastard.” Alec’s stomach turned at the notion of a traitor on the team, and bile burned his throat.
While he stewed over the betrayal, Alec flew the chopper to an isolated landing zone near Cheyenne. Before heading to the airport, they bought new clothes at a consignment shop. Alec added wire-rimmed glasses and a baseball cap to his disguise and handed Erin a blond wig and scarf when she came out of the ladies’ dressing room wearing her new gauzy skirt and blouse. She looked ready to object, but she obviously recalled the men who’d opened fire on them in Boulder and took the wig silently.
When their flight landed in New Orleans, Alec rented a car for them using a fake name and driver’s license, and they headed west, following the directions Daniel had laid out on the back of the pirate’s map.
As they drove through the marshlands of southern Louisiana, Alec recalled the stories Daniel had told him about growing up on the bayou, raised by his grandmere. A strange twinge plucked his chest, a sense of longing he experienced whenever Daniel talked of his home and his family. A similar feeling had prodded him as he watched Erin stroke her belly and listened to her talk of her baby, her parents, her life in Cherry Creek. In the past few days, the longing had grown to a dull ache lodged squarely in his chest.
“Beautiful,” Erin said, rousing Alec from his thoughts. Her attention was riveted on the sight outside the car window—moss-draped cypress trees and boggy waterways where egrets waded, waiting for a fish to swim by. “Beautiful and yet kind of spooky. Mysterious.”
“Mmm-hmm. I have to warn you. If this place Daniel is directing us to is half as isolated and decrepit as the places he’s told me about in the past, you may be in for a shock. The swamps have alligators and flying bugs and no electricity. The Cajuns that moved here centuries ago built shacks on stilts, deep in the bayous and accessible only by pirogue.”
Alec pulled off the road at a small wooden building with a handmade sign that read Gambeaux’s—Bait for Sale. Hot and Spicy Crawfish by the Pound.
“Pirogue?” Erin asked.
“A kind of flat boat guided through the water using a long pole. You’ll see soon enough. That’s how we’ll be traveling from here.”
Erin squinted out the window at the tiny, run-down shack. On the wooden dock behind the building, an older man tossed something into the water, and an alligator lunged through the water to snap up the offered meat.
Erin shivered. “This is it?”
Alec double-checked his GPS locator. The coordinates matched the instructions Daniel had detailed on his map. “It’s our next-to-last stop.” He pointed to the dense, shadowed swamp and maze of knobby cypress trees. “Our final destination is out there somewhere.”
Chapter 11
As they entered the old bait shop, the sulfur and dead-fish smells of the swamp made Erin’s stomach roil. She pressed a hand to her mouth while Alec spoke to the elderly man they’d seen on the dock about renting a pirogue.
“Mais oui!” the old man said, shuffling outside with a homemade wooden cane and waving his hand toward several rickety boats. “Pawpaw has beaucoup pirogues for you. Choose.”
The man’s accent and sprinkled use of Cajun French intrigued Erin. Alec stepped over to examine the floating vessels and hitched his thumb toward one of the better ones. “How much for this one? We’ll need it for several days.”
A fat black-and-white cat strolled out from the bait shop and rubbed against Erin’s leg. “Hello, kitty,” Erin said, squatting to scratch the cat’s chin while Alec negotiated with the old man.
“Comment tu crois? Gumbo done found hisself un ami, oui?” the man said with a chuckle.
“Yes.” Erin gave the cat a final pat the dusted the hair from her hands as she stood. “He’s a friendly fella.”
“Gumbo est beaucoup amoureux, cher! A womanizer!”
Erin grinned at the old man, and Alec slipped him a few bills before helping her climb into the chosen pirogue. She lowered herself uneasily onto the dusty, splintered wooden seat and cast an uneasy glance into the murky water. Lord only knew what types of slithery creatures lurked in the muddy swamp.
When Alec climbed into the boat, the pirogue rocked, and Erin clutched the sides.
“The missus don’ look like she so sure ’bout dis.” The old man flashed a gap-toothed grin.
Erin’s already queasy stomach took an extra flip hearing the man refer to her as Alec’s wife. She sent the man a tired smile, the best she could manage with her nerves strung as tight as banjo strings.
“Don’ worry, cher,” the old man said, tapping the edge of the flatboat with his cane, “Pawpaw give you good pirogue. His best.”
Alec unlooped the rope tied to the dock and tossed it on the floor at his feet.
“Thank you, sir,” he said with a nod, then pushed them out into the swamp with the long narrow oar the man had given him for steering the pirogue through the water.
A mosquito buzzed by Erin’s ear, and she swatted at it. The sun was setting rapidly, and the bony arms of cypress trees and veil of Spanish moss cast long shadows on the algae-covered bayou.
Lulled by the gentle lapping of the bayou against the hull, Erin tried to unwind a bit. But as they skimmed through the knobby roots and tall marsh grasses, she felt almost as if the bayou were alive and watching their every move. Paranoia, she told herself, remnants of their escape from the armed men earlier in the day and their attempts to disguise themselves.
Alec handed her the small GPS device. “Read me the coordinates as we go. It can’t be too far from here.”
Erin appreciated having something semi-useful to do as they made their way through the shadowy bayou. Strange buzzes, croaks and groans sounded all around her, and every creaking tree and distant splash set her more on edge.
“There.” Alec pointed to something behind her. “I think that’s it.”
Pivoting on the small wooden seat, Erin peered through the dim bayou to the ramshackle hut on stilts that loomed over the water ahead of them. “You’re kidding, right? That’s not really where we’re spending the night.”
“Don’ worry, cher. Gators no climb ladders.” Alec mimicked the old Cajun who’d rented them the pirogue. The quick flash of white teeth as Alec grinned did little to settle her nerves.
“Yeah, but what about snakes? And spiders? They can drop out of trees and…” Erin shivered.
The boat rocked slightly, and she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. “I won’t let any creepy crawlies get you, Erin. I promise.”
She gave herself a mental shake, ashamed of herself for burdening Alec with her petty phobias. He’d risked life and limb to keep her safe thus far, and she had no doubt he would continue. Even if doing so made his own life more difficult. His sacrifices on her behalf were humbling.
Alec steered the pirogue up to the tiny floating dock at the foot of the stilts. The rotting wood slats of the dock creaked when he helped her step out of the boat. Alec finished tying off the pirogue and joined her on the dock. Putting a hand at her waist, he steadied her, and his reassuring presence soothed the jitters scrambling in her gut.
They climbed a ladder made of small chunks of plywood nailed to one of the stilts, and as she hoisted herself onto the elevated floor of the shack, Erin peered warily inside. Despite the hovel’s ratty outward appearance, the interior did boast a few creature comforts. A bed. A desk cluttered with papers. A small sink. Shelves lined with canned food and supplies. “Looks like Daniel’s been here. The place is supplied and furnished.”
“Either that
or he was expecting us.” Alec lit a kerosene lantern and hung it on a nail by the door.
A warm, yellow light filled the room and made the space feel oddly homey and comforting to Erin. Or maybe it was simply Alec’s solid strength and commanding presence that caused the quiet calm that stole through her. For the first time in hours, her muscles relaxed, and she drew a steadying breath.
Until she turned to find Alec staring at the bed in the corner of the room. Fire leaped in his eyes. Later.
The heat that radiated from Alec mirrored the passion with which he’d made his one-word promise that morning. Her gaze flicked nervously to the one bed, as well. Images and sensations from that morning assaulted her, left her trembling. That morning she’d acted impulsively, swept away by the sensual press of Alec’s body against hers, still shell-shocked from Alec’s brush with hypothermia and longing for the life-affirming experience of making love to Alec.
Now, with time and distance, she had no such excuses for the internal pull that drew her to this man. For the tender ache that burgeoned in her chest. For the need to share herself with this man. No excuse other than the truth. She had deep feelings for Alec that went beyond friendship or gratitude or lust. Dear heavens, was she falling in love with him?
“You said earlier that you were hungry,” Alec said, although the husky timbre of his voice let her know that food wasn’t what was foremost on his mind.
She nodded and rubbed a hand over her belly. “Starved.”
“Let’s find you and Junior something before you pass out on me then.” He moved over to the shelves and pulled down a can. “Beets.” He grunted and put that can back to try for another. “Spaghetti and meatballs. Now we’re talking.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Sound okay?”
A sensation like warm honey puddled behind her ribs then spread through her limbs, seeped to her core. The way Alec took care of her, put her needs before his own, rooted deep in her soul. Her life with Bradley would have been so different if he’d given her needs and wishes the same consideration.
“Spaghetti is fine.” She crossed the room and put a hand on his forearm. Meeting his eyes, she squeezed his arm and smiled. “Thank you.”
His brief hesitation, the little nod and tug at the corner of his mouth, told her he knew she was thanking him for more than dinner. She kept a firm grip on his arm, bracing herself when a barrage of sensation swamped her. Admiration. Wonder. And a unique sense of contentment and fulfillment she wasn’t sure she’d ever known before.
Alec challenged her, pampered her, made her every fiber feel completely feminine and fully alive.
“It’s been a rather harrowing day for you. Why don’t you rest while I get this heated up?” Alec tipped his head toward the small camping stove on the counter by the sink.
She grinned. “Harrowing? Yeah.” Her lips twitched in amusement. “Is life with you ever anything but harrowing?”
A harder, darker emotion wiped the humor from his face.
“Danger is a fact of life for me. Because of my job, my training.” His expression closed, grew cool and distant as he turned away to open the canned spaghetti.
This reminder splashed a cold dose of reality on her wayward thoughts.
He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry I brought you into the line of fire.”
“You didn’t. Manny and whoever hired him did. You’ve done nothing but look out for me from the day we met.”
In the past several days, she’d seen so many sides of Alec. A man who could be ruthless and dangerous or gentle and kind. A man of cunning, intelligence and resourcefulness. But he was a man with secrets, too. A man with vulnerabilities that he guarded and shoved down in self-defense. Erin ached to chip through the stony, protective facade and touch the soul of the man whose hurt and private darkness she’d glimpsed in moments when she caught him off guard. She longed to give him the comfort and healing she knew he needed but would never seek on his own. But she knew, in his eyes, opening himself to her, showing his vulnerabilities would be a show of weakness, so she didn’t push.
While Alec set to work lighting the camping stove and opening a few cans for their dinner, Erin strolled around the small cabin, peeking into closets and cabinets and giving the small bed a test bounce. The mattress proved remarkably firm and comfortable.
Turning her attention to the cluttered desk in the corner, she sifted through a collection of articles and papers spread across the top. She frowned, noticing most were clippings about the Louisiana senator whose daughter had been kidnapped. She found a notepad, too, with various notes scribbled and flowcharts with the senator’s name, the senator’s daughter and General Ramirez each in a circle with lines drawn in a triangle connecting each name to the others.
A tingle started down her spine. “Ramirez? But he’s—” Erin pivoted toward Alec. “That rebel army general you and Daniel were watching in Colombia on your last mission together? His name was Ramirez, right?”
“Yeah, why?” Alec turned from the camping stove, and his eyes zeroed in on the papers in her hands. “What did you find?”
Gaze narrowing, he crossed the floor to her, and Erin showed him the diagram. “It looks like Daniel was working on a theory that connects Senator White, his missing daughter and Ramirez.”
Alec shoved the spoon he’d been stirring spaghetti with into Erin’s hand and started riffling through the papers on the desk. “What were you on to, Lafitte?”
From the newspaper clippings and photocopied pages, Alec pulled out a high school yearbook.
“Lagniappe High School Fighting Mudbugs,” Erin read aloud. “Is that where Daniel went to high school?”
“No.” Alec flipped the yearbook open to the first page that had been bookmarked. Nicole White’s senior picture had been circled.
Erin leaned closer to study the picture over Alec’s shoulder. “The senator’s daughter. She’s pretty.”
“Yeah.” Alec studied the photo a moment longer before flipping to the next marked page. Nicole White was pictured with the cheerleaders on the right page and with the debate team on the left page. Five other spots featuring Nicole’s varied activities were marked, as well.
“If you ask me, I think Daniel has a thing for Nicole White.”
Alec jerked his eyebrows together. “Why do you say that?”
She waved a hand toward the collection of photos and articles spread on the desk. “Well, look at everything he’s collected on her.”
Alec shook his head and tossed the yearbook on the desk. “Research. When we were hunting Ramirez, we studied pictures of him so we could memorize his face, his distinguishing features. Standard operating procedure. He’s got pictures here of Senator White and Ramirez, too.”
“A couple. But he’s got one, two, three, four…” Erin shuffled through the papers and continued counting silently. “Twelve pictures of Nicole. And tons more background information on her.”
Alec scowled and plucked out a blown-up copy of a recent shot of Nicole. “I see your point.”
Erin slid Daniel’s diagram out of the clutter again. “Maybe I’m wrong. But do you think he suspected Nicole of having ties to Ramirez? That she could have been selling U.S. secrets or something she’d stolen from her father’s office? I mean her mission trip could have been a cover. What if she wasn’t really kidnapped but actually disappeared because she was working with Ramirez?”
“Anything’s possible. In my line of work, you learn not to dismiss any scenario as too far-fetched. But—”
A loud sizzle from the stove drew her attention away from what Alec was saying.
“The spaghetti!” She rushed over to the stove and snatched the smoking pan off the burner.
Alec scowled and took the pan from her. “Sorry. Guess I set the burner too high. I’ll fix something else.”
She stopped him before he could dump the pan. “It’s not totally ruined, and I’m too hungry to wait on anything else.”
“Erin—”
She grinned. “Trust me, Alec
. This baby is not picky when it comes to what I eat and completely impatient about when. This is fine.” She looked on the shelf by the sink for a bowl. “Are you joining me?”
“Nah. I’ll get something later.”
Finding another spoon but no bowl, Erin carried the spaghetti to the corner of the bed and ate from the pan. Alec strolled to the pile of papers on the desk and studied them with a pensive knit in his brow.
“What?” she asked.
He brushed a few of the top sheets back and picked up the notepad on which Daniel had jotted notes. “I’ll be damned.”
“Alec?” Setting the pan of scorched spaghetti aside, Erin crossed to the desk to see what Alec had found.
“A lot of things are clearer to me now.” He showed her the page of Daniel’s scribblings that had caught his attention. This diagram was set up differently but had the same three names linked. With two additions. Blackbeard and Lafitte. A line had been drawn from his and Daniel’s nicknames to Senator White’s name. On the opposite side of the page, a line connected Nicole’s name to Ramirez. The two entries were connected in the middle of the sheet with a New Orleans street address and date.
Erin pointed to the date. “January sixth. That’s next week. What do you think it means?”
“I can’t be sure. But you can bet I’m going to be at this address on January sixth to find out.”
* * *
An hour later, Erin had finished eating, had napped for a few minutes, taken a cold shower in the shack’s primitive, no-hot-water bathroom and felt somewhat human again. But Alec still pored over the information Daniel had amassed, studying charts and lists and making notes of his own.
Erin approached the desk and gave Alec’s hunched shoulders a deep rub. He moaned and rolled his neck from side to side as she massaged his kinked muscles. “You’re playing with fire, sweetcakes.”
“Pardon?”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, his eyes homing in with bright blue intensity. “I want you, Erin. So bad it hurts. Ever since we broke camp this morning, I’ve thought of little else except you and how good you felt in my arms, how sweet you tasted.” He tugged her closer, and she canted against him, feeling his body vibrate with leashed passion and power. When he nuzzled her neck and nipped at her earlobe, shivery sparks shot through her bloodstream.
Soldier's Pregnancy Protocol Page 13