Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors

by Sharon Hamilton

  What was she doing all the way up here? Gage shook his head. Didn’t matter. Not his problem. What was his problem was that she’d landed on his doorstep. He felt another burst of anger at that. Wrong time. Wrong place, baby.

  The cabin was deep in the mountain and no doubt after the trek she’d just had, she was worn out. He carried her to the only bedroom, placed her on the bed and covered her with the thick down comforter. He left the room, closing the door.

  What she needed now was rest. He’d leave her to it, let her sleep a few hours, then he’d get rid of her.

  * * *

  Mallory opened her eyes and groaned. Her head hurt. And her eyes. Part of the cause of her pain had to be the light streaming in through the uncovered window. Not bright sunlight, but daylight, and too bright for her nonetheless.

  She turned away from it and the movement sent another jolt of pain to her head. She raised a hand to her temple and closed her eyes again at the hurt that shot up her arm.

  Her head and arm weren’t the only parts of her that hurt. She hurt everywhere. The biggest offender though was her ankle. It throbbed as if there was someone inside banging to get out.

  Where was she? On a bed. An immense bed. In a room that could only be described as rustic. The furniture, the four huge posts of the bed, a dresser, and a chest of drawers were rough-hewn from knotted wood. The walls were a dark wood.

  How had she gotten here? Where exactly was here?

  She frowned. The last thing she remembered was stumbling across a cabin and making her way to the porch to check for occupants. She hadn’t entered the cabin in case it was the one that belonged to Billy. Someone else had brought her inside.

  She shifted position and then it struck her: Beneath the blanket, she was naked.

  Someone had removed her clothing. The occupants of the blue van? Had she been wrong in believing she’d lost them in the blizzard? Her throat closed. Perspiration broke out on her skin. Removing a captive’s clothing was number one as a means of intimidation.

  It was working. For an instant, her mind filled with images of the horrors Miles and Hugo had described would be done to her during her interrogation.

  She pushed her hair back from her face with a hand that trembled. Her brow was damp. Her heart was beating hard with fear. How was she going to get out of here?

  She glanced to the window where frost glistened on the glass pane. Too small for her to fit through. It would have to be the door then. She firmed her lips, firmed her resolve.

  She was alone. She didn’t know how long she had before Considine sent one of his people to check on her, so she had no time to waste.

  She sat up, then fought a wave of dizziness. She closed her eyes briefly, riding it out, then tossed the blanket aside. Goose bumps rose on her flesh in the chill air. Shivering, she left the bed. As she put weight on her right leg, she winced. She recalled being hurt in the accident. The leg could be a problem, particularly if she needed to travel a long distance on foot. Nothing to be done about that now. She’d do what she had to do.

  Her clothes were not in sight. If she was going to get out, she couldn’t do it wrapped in a blanket. There wasn’t a closet in this room but the chest of drawers was across from the bed. Gingerly, she made her way to it, keeping her movements slow and deliberate to keep from putting her foot wrong and losing her balance, and to keep from making any noise that might alert anyone else in the cabin with her that she was conscious.

  The clothing in the drawers was for a man or men and by the size of the garments, large men. There were a half dozen pairs of jeans all neatly stacked. She would need to fold the legs back several inches to be able to walk in them, but then she spotted a pair of sweat pants in a steel gray with a drawstring waist and elastic at the cuffs. These would serve better. In another drawer, she found a fleece-lined top and socks.

  Mallory dressed quickly. She looked around the room for her boots, but apparently those were gone as well. Nor were there any men’s shoes about. She went to the bedroom door in her stocking feet, and hoped she’d find her boots before she needed to leave.

  When she reached the door, she stood against it. She told herself her only reason was to put her ear to the wood and listen for sounds in the outer rooms, but as she satisfied herself that she heard none, she remained where she was. She needed a moment to collect herself. Her breathing was rapid. Her body had grown damp from perspiration brought on by exertion. She felt as wrung out as a wet mop. And that was just from the short walk from the chest of drawers to the door. She was going to have to do a lot better if she intended to make it out of here alive.

  She couldn’t risk opening the door without knowing where it would lead. If someone happened to be in front of it, or was assigned to keep watch, she would give herself away. Biting her lip, she considered her options. She was in no condition to take on several men. Her only chance was to lure one of them in here. She needed more than her bare hands to take a man down today, and looked around for a weapon.

  A large, pot-bellied porcelain lamp sat on the nightstand by the bed. She picked it up and flung it against the mirror above the dresser. The mirror shattered. Dropping to her knees, she picked up a shard of glass that was the length and width of her hand. Back at the door, she stood to the side and waited for someone to investigate the source of the noise.

  The door was thrown open and a man ran into the room. She’d been right that at least one of the men in the cabin was large. Just her luck that it was a large man who was the one to respond.

  Mallory seized his wrist, squeezed the pressure point, and twisted. She drove his arm high up his back then pressed the tip of the glass shard to his right kidney.

  “What the—”

  “Move and it will be the last move you make,” she interrupted, keeping her voice low not to alert anyone else in the cabin.

  Though he didn’t utter another sound, his mouth tightened. She knew she was hurting him, but hoped her effort was enough to keep him subdued, because in her present condition, she wasn’t capable of more.

  “How many men are in this cabin?” When he didn’t respond immediately, she applied more pressure to his arm. “Answer me.”

  “I’m alone here.”

  “Where are the others? Where’s Considine?”

  “I don’t know any Considine. And, again, I’m alone here.”

  Mallory’s breathing quickened. “When is Considine getting here? How much time do we have?”

  “No one’s coming. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Mallory ignored that. “You’re going to walk me out of here and then drive me off this mountain.” Her voice quavered and she cleared her throat to force some strength into it. “Now, turn around. Slowly. We’re going into the other room. If you lied to me, if any one is out there, you want to warn them not to try and stop us. I can and will—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, she was flat on her back on the rope rug by the door with one-hundred-eighty pounds of male looming above her.

  He pinned her arms atop her head. “Drop it!”

  When she didn’t comply, he pried her fingers open and the glass hit the floor. Mallory summoned all of her strength and brought her knee up, aiming for his groin. The man shifted at the last instant, saving himself from what would have been a powerful hit.

  His nostrils flared. “Stop.”

  Mallory ignored his command. Heat emanated from him. She could feel his barely leashed anger and his barely leashed control. She bucked to dislodge him, fighting back with all she had in her. But he dropped his weight on her, pinning her with his legs, then he simply held her beneath him while Mallory continued to strain against his hold.

  He clenched his teeth. “Keep this up and I’m going to have to hurt you.”

  Mallory stopped struggling, but only because her strength deserted her. She glared up at him. “I’m sure hurting me is the last thing you want to do.”

  His eyes narrowed and a muscle in his jaw pulsed.
“Yeah, I can see where you’d get the idea I mean you harm, taking you in, tending to your injuries instead of leaving you where I found you.”

  “And what would Considine have said about that?”

  “Already told you. I don’t know any ‘Considine’.”

  “Sure you don’t,” she said, making sure he heard her disbelief.

  “My name is Gage Broderick—”

  “Cut the act. We both know what’s going to happen here.” It occurred to her that all the noise they’d made hadn’t drawn anyone to the room. “No one’s come running to check on you so I guess you really are here alone. Considine left you to babysit. What are you, his stooge?”

  “No one’s coming. It’s just you and me here.”

  His words chilled her. She’d been wrong about his role with Considine. If Considine trusted him to interrogate her, this man must be very good at what he did.

  Mallory strained against her captor’s hold once more and his grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to leave her no illusion that she could get away.

  Rage blazed in his eyes. “You’re one hell of a piece of work. You attack everyone who helps you?”

  Breathing hard, she said, “If I’d done it right, I’d be gone from here.”

  “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” he snapped.

  Mallory frowned. “You look as if you mean that.”

  He grunted. “I’d like nothing better than to have you out of here. Believe it.”

  She stared at him, trying to read him, wondering what game he was playing. “You can’t expect me to buy that after you brought me here. Took my clothes.”

  “I didn’t bring you here.” He bit down on his back teeth so hard, his jaw cracked. “You brought yourself here. You collapsed outside my door. I took you in to keep you from freezing to death outside. I undressed you because your clothes were soaked. I couldn’t leave you in them and risk hypothermia. That’s the only reason I removed your clothing.”

  She had been wet from the snow. She studied him without blinking. “You don’t know Considine? You don’t know who I am?”

  Fury flared in his eyes again. “Asked and answered.”

  He kept his unflinching gaze on hers. Was it possible he was telling the truth? Some of the tension in her eased as she considered his attitude. This man—Gage—really did look like he wanted nothing more than to be rid of her. That wouldn’t be the case if he was working for Considine.

  “Okay, Gage Broderick, if you really don’t know me, then get off me.”

  He got off her, all the way off. On his feet now, Mallory got her first full look at him. Deep blue eyes, heavy-lidded as if she’d roused him from sleep. The snap was undone on his jeans as if he’d hastily donned them which reinforced her notion that he’d been in bed. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw was the same blond as his hair. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his body showed that the weight she’d had on her a few minutes earlier was all muscle. She realized her gaze had lingered too long and quickly looked away.

  Gage retrieved the glass shard from the floor by her head while Mallory struggled to her feet. When she turned to leave the room, she glanced over her shoulder, watching him, but he made no effort to stop her.

  Beyond the bedroom, the outer area housed a kitchen and a living room with a desk by the window and a large brick hearth that took up a portion of the wall opposite a black leather couch. The bunched blanket and the pillow on the couch made it a good guess that was where Gage had spent last night while she’d been in his bed. She scanned her surroundings and saw that they were, in fact, alone. Relief left her momentarily light-headed.

  She needed to contact her office immediately. First order of business was to ask Gage to use his cell phone. She hoped there was a signal in these mountains. She had to get in touch with her superior and get the message about the women to him.

  She also needed to get out of the cabin. She had to make sure Considine could not track her to this location and to Gage Broderick. The man was a civilian. Had no business being dragged into this mess. Mallory didn’t want to divulge any information about herself or the investigation. The less he knew, the safer it was for both of them. The fact that she was even with him endangered his life. The sooner she got out of here, the better.

  Behind her, Gage’s footsteps struck the wood floor slowly as he also made his way into the living room. She faced him. “I’d appreciate the use of your cell phone.”

  “Can’t.”

  “Mr. Broderick—Gage—once I make my call, I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll gladly reimburse you for any charges.”

  “The reason you can’t use my cell phone is because I don’t have one.”

  Mallory hadn’t considered he wouldn’t have a phone. “Okay. What do you use for communication? Whatever that is will be fine.”

  “I don’t have a means of communication. No phone. No internet. No carrier pigeon.”

  Mallory ignored his sarcasm as his words penetrated. Her stomach tightened. “I need to get out of here. It’s urgent. What about a vehicle? You must have a means to get off this mountain. For supplies.”

  “I have a truck. If you look out that window, you’ll see that it’s not possible to drive down the mountain now.” He pointed to the window in the living room. “We’re in a blizzard. Visibility is almost nil. The mountain road isn’t plowed. I’d need a snowmobile to get out of here which I don’t have. For the time being, it looks like you’re not going anywhere. We’re both going to have to deal with that.”

  He sounded pissed at that but Mallory wasn’t concerned that he was less than pleased with her presence here. She had more important things to worry about. She went to the window and flattened her palms on the glass. Outside all she could see was white—and she couldn’t see beyond the porch. Considine would have snowmobiles. She thumped the glass with her fist. The small gesture drained what little strength she had left and now that she didn’t perceive a threat from the man standing opposite her, she slumped against the wall at her back, letting the wood take her weight.

  “Why don’t you sit down before you fall down.”

  Gage’s tone was sharp and made her want to defy him. If she’d been capable of it, she would have. But he was right. Though certainly not a gracious invitation, she had no choice but to take it. The desk, with a deep-cushioned arm chair, was a couple of steps away and as she lowered herself onto the chair, she bit back a sigh at how good it felt to be off her feet.

  She licked her dry lips. “Could I have a glass of water?”

  Gage went to the fridge and returned with a bottle of the liquid. Mallory uncapped it and drank deeply then pushed back a vinyl folder on the desk top, clearing a space, and set the bottle down. She needed to clear her head. Splashing cold water on her face would help with that. “Washroom is behind the only closed door in here, I take it?”

  Gage nodded.

  A glance in the bathroom mirror showed her hair was wild and matted at one temple where she’d hit her head. Just parting her hair for a closer look caused pain that had her sucking in a sharp breath. Gripping the counter, and letting that breath out slowly, she took stock.

  She was alive.

  She’d survived the ride with Miles and Hugo.

  Survived her frantic trek into the mountains.

  For now, she was safe.

  She allowed herself a moment to take that in but a moment was all she could spare. She needed to think of a way to get in touch with the Bureau and until she could she needed to take steps to protect Gage Broderick and to mount a defense should Considine or his people show up here before she was able to leave.

  Bending over the sink, she washed her face. She found clean towels in the cupboard beneath, dried her face with one, then left the bathroom. The aroma of coffee brewing drifted to her but didn’t spark any interest. She wasn’t a coffee drinker. Gage had donned a shirt and stood sipping from a mug to the hum of the microwave. Boxes from two frozen breakfasts were on the counter. Though
the smells coming from the heating food were dubious, she hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. At the prospect of being fed, her neglected stomach growled.

  As if on cue, the microwave beeped. Her water was on the desk where she’d left it. As she made her way across the room to retrieve it, she suppressed a cry. She was feeling the affects of the accident and every part of her hurt.

  Her gaze strayed to the window. The blizzard showed no sign of letting up. Her stomach tightened as she thought of the twelve women and she released a sharp breath, ripe with fear and frustration.

  She picked up the water and struck the folder beside it, knocking it off the desk. It hit the floor with a thud and a checkbook slid out. Damn. She went down slowly on one knee to retrieve the items. As she reached out to the book of checks, her fingers curled into her palm. The name on them was Mitchell Turner. Not Gage Broderick. Her breath caught.

  She’d been duped. The man had given her a false name. Given her a false sense of security. Why go to that bother? Did he want to keep her docile until Considine arrived? Keep her from making a fuss or giving him trouble? Whatever his motive, his ruse had worked. He’d been believable all right with his I want you out of here routine. Cold sweat broke out on her spine.

  Her thoughts raced. She had no weapon. She scoffed at the letter opener on the desk. She’d already proven that in her current state she couldn’t overpower this man.

  He was still at the counter. He didn’t know that she was on to him. It was the only advantage she had.

  She joined him in the kitchen where he’d begun his meal. Though there was a table a few feet from him, he remained standing to eat. An additional breakfast waited on the counter for her. The cellophane covering the food had been peeled back, presumably so it could be heated in the microwave. Steam rose from the bacon and egg combo. It crossed her mind that he could have tampered with her food, but she dismissed the thought. Why would he drug her? As far as he knew, she didn’t suspect him. Added to that, he wanted to know what she’d learned about Considine’s organization and who she’d told about that. She’d be no good answering his questions if she were unconscious.