The Untamed Hunter

by Lindsay McKenna

  Chuckling slightly, Maggie said, “How well I remember. You had all the good ideas and I had none.” And now she saw how that attitude had gotten him tangled up in the mission with Sarah. Maggie would never know what the right answer had been on that mission. She hadn’t been there and there was no way to judge if Shep had really made a wrong decision or not. But he believed he had. Obviously.

  “On this mission,” he warned her gravely, “I’m not going to lose you. I swore I’d never take on a partner again and Morgan knew that. But when he showed me your photo, told me that you were volunteering to set yourself up as a decoy to try and capture Black Dawn terrorists, my heart got ahead of my head and my past experiences didn’t matter. I told Morgan I wanted it. I wanted you as my partner. He about fell off his chair. I think he thought he was going to have to argue long and hard for me to take this mission with you—but he was wrong. You’re too beautiful, Maggie, too alive. You deserve the best protection in the world on this top event. If I’d known ahead of time, I’d have talked you out of it. This mission is lethal. You could be killed.”

  Shep shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “I came because I want you to walk out of this mission alive and in one piece. I’ve learned a lot since Sarah’s death. I’ll control this situation completely this time. I’ll make sure you survive it.”

  Uneasily, Maggie studied him, heard the steel resolve in his deep baritone voice. “Shep,” she begged gently, “don’t say you’re going to control this situation. That’s what probably got you into that position with Sarah. If you had listened to her, things might have turned out differently. Don’t you see? You were controlling her and the decisions at that time. Frankly, I would hope that you’d listen to my input. Granted, I’m not up on stealth tactics, but I’ve got two eyes, good intuition and a fair amount of practicality. I’d hope you’d listen to me. We’re a team on this, Shep.”

  Shaking his head, Shep growled, “This isn’t up for discussion, Maggie. I’m keeping you safe on this mission. There’s no way I’m putting you in jeopardy like I did Sarah. I lost one woman I loved. I’m not about to do it twice. No way in hell.”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it. What was Shep really saying? That he couldn’t trust her? That she was a mute partner in this deadly dance they were on? That her input didn’t matter? Bristling internally, Maggie capped her emotional reaction. Right now, Shep was raw with guilt over Sarah’s death. He’d loved her. Well, Maggie was sure his reaction didn’t mean he loved her. Maggie and Shep had a past history with one another and with his overprotective nature, she was sure he couldn’t help taking charge on this mission.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie saw the waitress approaching with their soup. “I’m tabling this discussion for now,” she warned him in a low voice, “but once we get to our bed and breakfast later, we need to talk more. Okay?”

  The resolve in Maggie’s tone shook him. This wasn’t a soft, willowy eighteen-year-old talking to him. No, it was a mature, confident woman. It brought back vivid memories of Sarah’s confidence. She had been rock solid as a warrior and could always be relied upon to give her best. She’d never let Shep down in the three years they were paired. Not once. It was he who had let her down. Well, Maggie thought she could be like Sarah, but she couldn’t. Not on this mission. No, Maggie needed his protection and experience. Whether she agreed with him or not, Shep was going to fully control their situation. Every minute of it. Somehow, if he could complete this mission successfully, he knew that he could assuage some of his guilt where Sarah was concerned. If he could get Maggie safely through this gauntlet, maybe some of this terrible guilt would stop eating him alive and life would look a little more hopeful to him than it did now. That was all he asked for.

  Five

  Just as they were leaving the restaurant, Shep’s cell phone, which he carried in his sport coat jacket, beeped. Reaching out, he pulled Maggie aside in the lobby. Automatically, he placed himself in front of her and the doors of the restaurant—just in case.

  “Yes?” he growled into the phone.

  Maggie felt tension sizzling from Shep. His eyes narrowed and became icy with only a bare hint of blue in their depths. Understanding that the FBI had just phoned, she figured the call was more than likely a warning. Maggie’s focus shifted from her personal thoughts to the dangers that surrounded them. Gripping the attaché case in her left hand, she kept her right hand free in case she had to pull out the pistol she carried in her purse. Though the traffic outside looked normal, Maggie knew the terrorists’ best cover was their ability to fade into the fabric of the world around them. A professional terrorist never stood out like the proverbial sore thumb, she thought grimly as she watched Shep click off the cell phone and jam it back into his pocket.

  “Trouble?” she guessed.

  “Yes. They’ve spotted a black luxury sedan that has gone around this block four times in a row. Two men are in it. The feds are running the plates right now. A sniper on the building across the street noticed them.” Shep glanced down at her. “We’re staying put until we know more.”

  Maggie felt his tremendously protective nature now; it flowed around her powerfully. The fact that Shep had automatically positioned his bulk in front of her, in case bullets came flying through the glass of the doors toward them, wasn’t lost on her. He stood slightly slouched, his feet apart like a boxer waiting to receive a blow. She was getting a taste of the warrior in Shep. Right now, her heart was beating hard in her breast and she was scared. Gulping, her throat dry with the adrenaline coursing through her, she whispered, “Do terrorists always drive such fancy cars?”

  “Not necessarily,” he said, his gaze fastened on the slowly moving traffic on the street in front of them. It was rush hour now, five o’clock, and the traffic had increased substantially. “They usually don’t use high end, expensive cars because they stand out too much. This is probably nothing to worry about, but I’m not in the business of taking chances.” Especially with Maggie at his side.

  Somehow, Shep told himself, he was going to have to get her through this in one piece. At the other end of this mission, he wanted—no, demanded—time alone with her. More than anything, he realized suddenly, he wanted to reestablish a personal connection with Maggie. His lips tingled hotly in memory of her soft, yielding kiss against his mouth. She’d kissed him back. She’d wanted to kiss him as eagerly as he had. After all these years, a spark had exploded between them like a candle lighting the darkness of his wounded heart. For him, Maggie symbolized a freedom he’d found only with her. Now, as he stood with his knees slightly bent, prepared for an attack, he wanted that brass ring. He wanted Maggie. All of her. To hell with consequences.

  The cell phone rang again. Shep pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open. His features were grim as he said, “Yes?”

  Maggie gazed tensely out the restaurant doors. This was downtown Savannah, and at rush hour it was always better to walk in the beautiful squares rather than drive. Her gaze moved from one building top across the street to the next. She couldn’t see any of the FBI snipers who were hidden up there for their protection. They were doing a good job of staying out of sight.

  “I see…Thanks…”

  Maggie turned her attention to Shep. He put the cell phone away. “Trouble?”

  “No. A false alarm.”

  “Probably tourists looking for a parking spot to come here and eat at rush hour. Bad combination,” Maggie said with a slight smile. “This time of day, you can circle a square for half an hour before you find a parking spot.”

  Shep nodded. He moved forward and opened the door for her. “Let’s go. And let’s stay on alert. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  As they walked down the street, Shep moved to the curb side, his arm going around Maggie’s waist. He drew her close in a protective gesture. The sunlight was hot and intense, the humidity still high. Above the buildings Maggie could see cumulus clouds thickening into mighty thunderheads. She wouldn’t
be surprised if it stormed tonight, judging from the size of them.

  Shep’s long stride was making her take two steps for his every one. He suddenly sensed she was having to almost skip to keep up with him, and he instantly slowed his pace. Liking the curve of his hand around her waist, Maggie smiled to herself. How wonderful it had been to simply talk to Shep. For once he was forthcoming and not as closed up as usual. Or maybe life had made him more accessible than he had been in his younger years? Maggie fervently hoped so.

  “I’ll drive,” Shep said, opening the door.

  “No, it’s my turn.”

  “Maggie—”

  “Hey, it’s my turn, remember?”

  Tensely, Shep gazed around the parking lot which was now filled with people arriving to eat at the famous restaurant. Every one of them was a potential terrorist threat as far as he was concerned. Losing patience as Maggie moved to sit in the driver’s seat, Shep gripped her arm and stopped her.

  “Not now, Maggie. We’ll fight some other time.”

  Jerking her arm out of his grasp, she glared up at him. “Use your head, Hunter. I know this city. You don’t. If we get attacked, who is going to know the ins and outs, the back alleys and the best ways to avoid the attack? It sure won’t be you.”

  Frowning, he watched as she disregarded his orders and sank belligerently into the driver’s seat. He almost reached out and pulled her out. No. Now was not the time to get into one of their squabbles. This was just like before, when they were living with one another. Didn’t she realize that he should have control because he knew best in this situation? Frustrated, he stalked angrily around the car, jerked open the passenger door and got in.

  Maggie started the car after closing her door. She felt anger radiating from Shep. She saw it in the hard, unhappy line of his mouth. “I know where the Crescent Bed and Breakfast is located.”

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he told her gruffly, and pulled out his cell phone. “We’re not going there. I have a bad feeling and I don’t like it.”

  Maggie stared at him. “But…the FBI are there. We’ll be safe….”

  “The FBI don’t guarantee a damn thing, Maggie.” He got his contact, Agent Caldwell, on the phone. “Yeah, we’re going to avoid the bed and breakfast. I want to change our plans. We’ll head up toward Hilton Head Island and pick a random place to stay. It’s only an hour from here. If we’re getting tailed, this will throw them off. If we act like we’re easy targets, they might get suspicious and think it’s a trap. We’ve got to make them think otherwise. If we seem likely to escape, Black Dawn will get bold and strike.”

  Rolling her eyes, Maggie sat back and waited until he was off the phone. “Just because you don’t get to drive, you’re going to blow a place that’s protected by our side?”

  “That’s not the reason,” he said as he looked around. “Let’s go. You know how to get to Hilton Head via the freeway?”

  “Of course I do.” With a shake of her head, Maggie backed the car out of the slot. Once on the street, she made the necessary turns to head back onto the interstate. It was five-thirty, with plenty of daylight left. The drive to Hilton Head was on a four-lane freeway, through rolling countryside. It was a relatively untraveled route, so they could easily spot a tail.

  Once on the freeway, they found the traffic still congested for the first couple of miles, with commuters heading home for the evening. The sky ahead was dotted with thunderstorms that were building up and looming menacingly. Maggie wondered if they’d get the storms as they moved in a northeasterly direction toward Hilton Head. Since it was off the coast of South Carolina, and there was so much ocean humidity and warmth, she knew the chance for storms increased proportionately.

  Shep continued to gaze around and keep track of the cars nearby. His tightened gut eased only a little. Something was wrong; he could feel it. He couldn’t say what it was; he only knew he felt stalked by the terrorists. His gut feeling had saved his life too many times before for him to question his decision now. He glanced over at Maggie’s set profile. He knew she thought he was being controlling again—a know-it-all. Well, he wasn’t.

  “I really think this is a mistake, Shep. You blow a perfectly good place that’s protected and throw us out in the unknown.” Maggie pointed to the clouds ahead. “And on top of that, we’re going to get nailed tonight with a lot of thunderstorms up in the Hilton Head area. That’s not good. You can’t hear anything coming with the thunder bouncing around. Rain could play a dangerous part if we can’t hear terrorists approaching.”

  “Your protest is noted,” he said heavily. “You can put it in your after-action report when we get through this mess in one piece.”

  “I don’t like your sarcasm. You’re belittling me—again. Just like you did when we were together.” Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “Damn, some things just don’t change. I was hoping you’d be more reasonable.”

  “Maggie…don’t start….”

  Glaring at him for a moment, she returned her attention to the traffic. “You didn’t even bother to consult me, Shep. That’s what I don’t like. You couldn’t care less what I think, and that really makes me angry. Well, I’m not some airhead eighteen-year-old, all right? I’m thirty-six and I damn well have some experience of the world. You should be taking advantage of my knowledge, not canning it like it doesn’t count.”

  Her nostrils flared and she tried to shake the anger she felt toward him, but to no avail. “A leopard never changes his spots. That’s you, Hunter.”

  Holding up his hand, he watched the traffic thinning dramatically now. Ahead of them the freeway was nearly empty as they drove toward Hilton Head. “Look, I made a military strategy decision. You’ve got to trust me during times like this. I had a gut feeling on this, Maggie.” He drilled her with a dark look. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that women’s intuition counts for something, but if a man has intuition, it doesn’t work the same way?”

  “You’re so good at holding ground and arguing your points as to why your decision is the best one, Hunter.” Maggie met his gaze sadly. “I’m disappointed in you, that’s all. And if you think for a moment you’re going to keep this up without my input, you are dead wrong.”

  Wearily, he said, “Let’s use our energy, our alertness for the enemy. Let’s not be taking pounds of flesh out of each other, okay? We agree to disagree. Let’s leave it at that.”

  How could she enjoy kissing him so much one moment, and then have him backhand her like this when it came to such an important decision? Maggie knew she wasn’t being overly dramatic. Shep’s call could mean life or death. Her reaction wasn’t irrational at all. But he didn’t get that. He never did. “Some things never change,” she told him bitterly. “Fine, I’ll shut up. But if I see something or feel something about this mission, I’m going to be in your face, Hunter. And next time, I’m not going to be sweet or yielding about it. You got that?”

  Now he was tasting Maggie the warrior. He could tell the way her hazel eyes blazed with controlled anger that she damn well meant every word. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll try to listen to you.”

  Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Shep knew best. His thoughts moved ahead. Calling up the computer maps of the area, he studied them in tense silence. Soon the light changed. Looking up, he saw ragged gray-and-white cauliflower-shaped clouds blotting out the sun. He hoped it wouldn’t rain. Rain and thunder, as Maggie had rightly pointed out, could benefit the terrorists, allowing them to approach without detection. It was a dangerous situation.

  Shrugging off his apprehension, Shep took a deep breath. He felt better being on the road again. Moving targets were harder to take out than sitting ducks in a bed and breakfast. So the FBI had to scramble now, trying to tail them and get ahead of them. That was part of their job. Shep was in charge. He made the final calls on this mission. If the FBI team was upset, then so were the terrorists. And that was just what Shep had intended. Black Dawn would never suspect a trap—they�
�d be too busy trying to keep up.

  Fuming, Maggie kept her attention on her driving. Taking Route 278, they made a wide, looping turn over two arching bridges that spanned salt marshes, taking them to the posh Hilton Head Island, where the rich and famous lived. The island was shaped like a human foot, quite literally. Maggie had friends who lived on the island retreat. It was surrounded by dark green tidal wetlands, home to many different types of shorebirds and waterfowl, including the magnificent great blue heron, whose wingspan was seven feet wide.

  “Do you have any idea where you want to stay?” she demanded icily. Above them, the skies were turning turbid and threatening. Soon, the first approaching thunderhead would hit the island with well-known summer fury and power. The unstable, humid air of the coast bred some of the most violent thunderstorms Maggie had ever seen. The traffic was thickening again. It was 6:20 p.m.—time for tourists to be leaving the island and residents to be trying to get home. Traffic on Hilton Head was terrible, in her opinion, confined to two-way streets for the most part, except for two main arteries that were blessedly four lane.

  “I have several options, according to the computer list.”

  “Well, why don’t you ask me? I’ve lived in this area. I know this island like the back of my hand. See, Shep? Even now you’d rather rely on a damned computer than ask me what I know.”

  Rankled, he glanced over at her with apology in his eyes. “Okay, you’re right. So what do you suggest?”

  Frustration ate at Maggie. “I think we should stick close to 278, the only main route off this island if things go bad and we need to run. I think we should go to the Hilton Head Plantation area. There are a lot of time-share resorts down there and there’s bound to be a last-minute cancellation at one of those villas. It’s summer, so it’s peak season here.” She gripped the wheel nervously. “We’ll just have to take our chances. It might mean stopping at a few time-share offices.”