by Liliana Hart
“If you didn’t want everyone to know you’re in town, you shouldn’t have questioned Zeke Marley over at the docks. That kid couldn’t keep a secret if a gun was held to his head. Everyone in town knows you’re looking for a wounded man and that it has something to do with the woman those tourists say was kidnapped this morning. Denny—our chief of police—knows something funny is going on, but there’s no proof of anything other than rumor.”
“Where would a wounded man go to hide in a storm like this one?”
“That depends on the man.” Joe snuffed out his pipe and put it back in his shirt pocket a few seconds before Ahnah came back down the stairs.
Audrey guessed by the narrow-eyed gaze Ahnah gave to her husband that she didn’t particularly care for him smoking in the house. The rapid stream of an obvious scolding left Joe looking a bit like a child who’d just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Joe gave a sheepish grin and winked at his wife, while Ahnah scowled and carried two bedrolls over by the fire, rolling them out side by side and leaving a stack of folded quilts and pillows on top. She gave Joe another warning look and disappeared back up the stairs.
***
“No man would try to brave this storm,” Joe continued after she’d left. “It would be foolish, and if you’re still hunting this man then he is not a fool. If he is injured, it would be even more of a risk.”
“He’d want to stay hidden,” Audrey said.
“Not difficult to do here. There’s a mostly abandoned town at the end of the north road. It used to be filled with those searching for gold, but the gold ran out and the people left. There are lots of empty buildings.”
“We’ve been there,” Audrey said dryly, thinking of the warehouse and the contraband whales. “We followed his trail as long as we could, but he left the road and it looked as if his tracks continued northwest. The storm was getting worse by that time and we had to turn back. Is there any place in that direction where he could take shelter?”
“Nothing,” Joe said, his gray bushy eyebrows raising almost to his hairline. The surprise in his voice made the hair on her arms stand up. “There is nothing but hills and snow. It is not an easy path and there are signs telling all who go in that direction to turn back and go another way. Even in good weather, that path is a death wish.”
“Why?” Archer asked.
“Because it’s The End of the World. Didn’t you research your Alaskan history before you came here?”
“Not well enough, apparently. Why don’t you fill us in?”
“It is like the Bermuda Triangle. Only in Alaska. There are places like these all over the world. Where strange phenomena occur that no one can explain. Where a person just vanishes into thin air. Or drops off the face of the planet.” He shrugged. “See what I mean? The End of the World. All of those who have set out to find it have never returned. No bodies have ever been recovered. It’s as if they ceased to exist the moment they went past the warning signs.”
“So you’re saying our guy went into the Alaskan Bermuda Triangle?” Archer asked incredulously.
The look on his face was so comical Audrey almost laughed. Almost. She had a feeling she’d probably pushed him as far as he’d allow for the day. She had to admit it sounded crazy. Maybe Joe had been smoking his pipe too much.
“It’s one of the possibilities,” Joe said.
“What’s the other?” Audrey asked.
“That he circled back and is hiding in town the same as you are.”
CHAPTER NINE
A million tiny men marched through Shane’s skull. And he was pretty sure they had nails on the bottom of their shoes.
His eyes inched open, the inside of his eyelids gritty with what felt like sand, and the biting sting of sunlight had him slamming them closed again.
“Shi—” he didn’t quite have the strength to get the word out. His throat felt like he’d swallowed shards of glass and chased it with acid.
He did remember enough to know that he was home—in the small cabin he’d built for himself on the MacKenzie Security property. Or the cabin he’d started building. He’d completed the main living area first so he at least had a roof over his head while the rest was being built.
Of all his brothers and his sister, he was the one who needed his space the most. He didn’t like falling over siblings and cousins every time he turned around, so when Declan had started building the MacKenzie Security headquarters in Surrender, and he’d offered Shane land to build his own place behind the guarded walls of the compound, he’d jumped at the chance. And he’d insisted on hauling wood and hammering nails while he was on leave.
It wasn’t a large place. The main cabin had four walls and a stone fireplace that had been a bitch to build. He’d had to get help from his brother, Grant, to make sure it wouldn’t set his house on fire the first time he used it. The work had been hard, but he was damned proud of what he’d created with his own two hands.
The frames for the two bedrooms on each side of the living area were up and ready for someone to finish them. And the kitchen at the back of the house was closed in and ready for finish work. He’d have to hire the rest out. There was no way he’d be able to finish building it on his own. Hell, what was even the point? It wasn’t like there was a purpose behind it anymore. He’d be just fine living in the confined corners of the main cabin, his bed shoved into a corner and a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and plastic utensils on the card table he’d set up in the other corner.
The sun glared through the open blinds and tiny dust motes danced in the brightness. He had no idea what time it was. Or what day for that matter. His hand moved slowly to the side, snagging on the soft sheets of his bed. At least he’d made it to the bed this time. That was a step in the right direction. He would have smiled at the thought if it hadn’t hurt so bad to move his muscles.
And true to form, the spot next to him on the bed was empty. No woman wanted to fuck a cripple. He’d probably better get used to that too. No SEAL team to lead and no groupies to fuck.
He groaned and pulled the pillow over his head, hoping to either suffocate himself or at least stop the pounding. But it didn’t work. And it turned out the pounding was coming from his front door instead of inside his head. Mostly.
“Goway,” he muttered into the pillow. But the knocking turned into pounding. Whoever it was at the door was a persistent bastard. Probably one of his damned brothers or some other well-meaning relative. He was falling over MacKenzies every time he turned around.
“I hope you’re decent,” a woman yelled from the other side of the door. “And if you’re not, I’m coming in anyway.”
Shane looked down the length of his naked body and quickly tossed the sheet over himself. There’d been a time when he’d have called her bluff and let her walk in on him, but there was no way in hell he wanted anyone to look at his body now. Big, strong Shane MacKenzie reduced to nothing but scars that didn’t mean shit in the grand scheme of things and no leg. He was no prize, that was for damned sure.
The doorknob rattled, and he breathed out a sigh of relief when he realized it was locked and she’d have to go away. It wasn’t like he was going to haul himself to the door. But then a key slipped into the lock and he heard the tumblers turn as loud as cannon fire in his aching head.
The door opened, and Shane was struck speechless as a woman he’d never seen before came inside bold as you please, slamming the door behind her. At least it felt like a slam to his pounding skull.
He grabbed his head in misery and yelled, “What the fuck, lady?”
She only arched a brow and went around to all the windows, opening the blinds so the entire room was cast in blindingly white light. She didn’t respond to his outrage. The look on her face was pleasant, but determined. She wore blue scrubs and her dark blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her face was scrubbed free of makeup. There was nothing remarkable he could see about her on first glance. Her body was small, and it didn’t
look like she had any curves to speak of. She was just—average.
“Umm—hello? Last time I checked, you needed an invitation before you just barge into someone’s home. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not fit for company.”
“Oh, I noticed,” she finally said, her task of opening all of the blinds complete. The sun shone at her back, so it was hard for him to see her as she started toward him. “It’s time for physical therapy. I’m Doctor Shaw.”
“No offense, lady. But there’s no way in hell I’m getting out of bed this morning. I had a rough night.”
“I have a nose that smells, so believe me, I’m aware of the kind of night you had.”
Shane gritted his teeth as his temper began to boil. His brothers always accused him of having a short fuse. It was true for the most part, except when he was on a mission—because temper would only get his men killed—and around women—because his mother would have bashed him upside the head if he’d ever been anything but respectful. But there was something about this Doctor Shaw that immediately set his teeth on edge.
“Listen, lady. I don’t know who sent you, but you can go back to the hospital and work with someone else. I’d prefer to have my old PT doctor anyway. He’s big enough to catch me if I fall.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she said, moving a little closer so the sun at her back wasn’t quite as bright.
Shane almost snorted out a laugh at that statement. She was so tiny a strong wind could’ve blown her away. But right as he had the thought, he finally got a good look at her face. Average had been his first thought on seeing her. But he hadn’t gotten a good look at those eyes. He’d never seen eyes like that before. They weren’t blue—they were a brilliant amethyst. And they changed a rather ordinary face into a remarkable one.
His body responded in a way it hadn’t since before his accident and he sat up in bed, bunching the covers over his lap, and swung his foot to the floor. He leaned his elbows on his knees and propped his aching head up with his hands as he tried to get himself under control.
“Sorry, lady, but you’d snap in half like a toothpick. And I’m not exactly in the best mood. I’m just saving you the grief of getting your feelings hurt and crying your way back to the hospital. I’m an asshole. And I have no plans to change. So no offense, but fuck off.”
She actually had the audacity to laugh at him, and the anger inside of him boiled a little hotter—a little higher. He lifted his head from his hands so he could stare her down. There weren’t many who didn’t shrivel under that look from him. His brothers were the only ones he could think of. But she didn’t budge. She just matched his glare with one of her own.
“MacKenzie, I was an Army medic for a lot of years. I’m used to assholes. And I could drop you on your ass if I wanted to without batting an eyelash. It’ll be a cold day in hell before someone like you has me running away in tears. Now get up and let’s get you in the shower so I can actually start breathing through my nose again.”
He practically felt the steam coming out of his ears and his pulse pounded in his throat. “You’re fired. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
She leaned closer, so her face was just a few inches from his own, and those damned eyes were boring into his soul. He hadn’t looked past the color. He recognized those eyes. They had the same steely determination as any of the men he commanded or those who’d seen too much in the line of duty.
“You can’t fire me. I’m not a doctor at the hospital. I work for MacKenzie Security. So if you want me fired, you’re going to have to take it up with your brother. I work for him and no one else.”
Fucking figured. His hands fisted against the sheets as he tried to figure out a way to just get her out of there. She was going to be trouble.
“Listen, sweetheart. I’m flattered you’re so determined to get me up and moving, but the only thing I’m interested in doing with you is putting you flat on your back and fucking that know-it-all smirk right off your face. You’re not exactly my type, but it’s not like I’m surrounded by Frog Hogs anymore,” he said, referring to the groupies of women who liked sleeping with SEALs. “So I guess I’ll make an exception. But I’m telling you, you’re better off telling my brother to fuck off and bring in someone else.”
There was no change in the expression on her face, just a slight arching of her eyebrow that made his dick twitch.
“I don’t fuck spoiled little boys who are feeling sorry for themselves. I fuck men. And they walk away grateful,” she said, the corner of her mouth tilting up in a sly smile.
“You mean you don’t fuck cripples?” Shane asked, the rage inside him so hot and violent his body shook.
“Mackenzie, if you think a man is made by how many limbs he has, then you’re in sorrier shape than I gave you credit for. Now get up.”
He fought for control as the battle raged inside of him. She wasn’t going to give up. He could see it on her face. But he wasn’t going to give up either. He wanted her gone. He wanted to be left alone. And by the time he was finished, she’d be happy to leave him to wallow in his own misery.
CHAPTER TEN
Four days of miserable weather pounded the west coast of Alaska, burying it in layer after layer of snow and ice.
It had taken Audrey less than twenty-four hours for stir-crazy to set in. The days and nights had blurred into one another—the snow and wind a relentless force. The only difference between day and night was the sky going from a stormy gray to pitch black and back again.
She needed to get out and search for Jonah. The back of her neck had been itching ever since the snow had begun to slow. He was out there. And he was close. He had to be.
Joe and Ahnah’s tiny house had one bathroom upstairs with a shower that was so small it was difficult to scrub without knocking elbows against the faucet. But she’d escaped to the small space to put some space between her and Archer, and she let the hot water beat down on her as she tried to think of anything else.
He was driving her crazy, and it hadn’t helped that she’d spent each night lying inches away from a man who intrigued her both physically and intellectually.
She’d never met a man like Archer before. He was an unusual mix of being both an open book and secretive as hell. Fascinating was the only word that came to mind. She knew he had a daughter he loved more than anything, and that he’d been divorced for more than a decade. His ex-wife hadn’t wanted to live with the secrecy and constant travel, and Archer hadn’t blamed her for wanting to move on. They maintained a friendly enough relationship for his daughter’s sake, but there’d been no other woman long term in his life.
She knew he liked old black and white movies and he hated Chinese food. She knew his sense of humor edged toward the ridiculous and he could make her laugh at the oddest moments. And she knew he slept flat on his back with his gun tucked just under his sleep mat where he could reach it easily.
Just like she knew in her gut that he’d been the agent known as Warlock during his time with the CIA. But she could never get him to confirm or deny her suspicions. He’d been happy to share whatever she wanted to know about his personal life, but his professional life had been completely off limits.
The stories about Declan’s team were legendary. They’d been an unstoppable force and there were contracts out for each of them in multiple countries. She couldn’t blame Declan for building his fortress of solitude in bumfuck Montana, surrounded by gated walls and armed guards. Gabe Brennan had basically done the same thing with the operation he’d set up on the other side of the ocean. But Kane Huxley was in hell where he deserved to be, Warlock was rumored to be dead as well, and Cypher was in the wind, living behind his computers and anonymity.
These were men whose pasts would one day catch up with them if they weren’t very careful. Not to mention their families being caught in the crossfire.
Being confined in close quarters with Archer was sending her sexually deprived body into overdrive. She hadn’t even wanted t
o look at a man that way since Jonah betrayed her, but Archer had gotten under her skin. A long look from across the table as they played cards or told war stories. A subtle touch against the back of her hand or neck. He was worming his way right inside of her heart, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
The problem was she liked him. But she didn’t trust him. Couldn’t allow herself to make that mistake again. But God—she wanted to so badly. It had been too long since she’d felt a man’s touch—rough hands sliding over her skin and the smooth glide of bodies joined in heat.
If she’d wanted to forget him, taking a shower might not have been the best idea. The water sprayed hot and forceful over naked flesh to the point where Audrey was almost too stimulated. Her hands skimmed over her shoulders and down her arms, and her eyes closed as she imagined it was Archer’s touch instead of her own.
Her moan was drowned out by the spray of the water as she cupped her breasts, heavy with need, her nipples beaded into small peaks of pure sensation. Her thumbs skimmed across each one and she felt the pull in the swollen flesh between her thighs.
Her hands continued down, over the scars across her ribs and stomach where she no longer had any feeling at all, to the soft black curls that covered her sex. With her eyes closed, it was easy to imagine Archer kneeling before her and his fingers teasing the moist folds of her pussy.
Inhibition disappeared and her head dropped back to her shoulders. A moan, this one louder than the last, took her by surprise as feelings she hadn’t experienced in years sent shivers coursing through her body. She was hungry—needy—for that physical touch. And not just any man’s touch. She wasn’t ready for that. But she was ready for Archer, and the slick syrup coating her fingers told her he would be the one to bring her body back to life.
Audrey’s fingertip barely skimmed across the taut nub of her clit, and chills broke out across her skin as she continued the whispered caress. She sucked in a shuddering, broken breath as sensation shot through her, tightening the muscles in her stomach and making the ones in her thighs tremble.