by Cherry Adair
"I'll consider giving you a flamethrower for your next birthday, how's that?"
"Seriously, Derek—"
"Seriously, Lily. My people will be there to greet us with open arms." Please, God.
"Are the bad people ever stopped?"
God. He considered lying through his teeth. "Occasionally."
"Crappy odds. Why do you—" She cut herself off with a sigh. "Because that's just who you are."
Derek checked his GPS in his headlight, and adjusted the heading of the dogs slightly. Yeah. That's who he was.
He'd never before doubted his role in life. He thrived on his work with T-FLAC, and even when it occasionally didn't feel as though they could ever make a dent in the terrorists that kept sprouting around the world like a cancer, he knew that he, and others like him, did make a difference. The world was a safer place because men and women like him did everything in their power to make it so.
It was the big picture that had always kept him focused, and sane in the middle of chaos. But suddenly the picture was pinpointed down to this small, slender woman, and there weren't enough T-FLAC operatives, not enough Marines, or Rangers or even freaking Navy SEALs, to circle the wagons and keep her safe.
Big picture. Small woman. The bottom line was he was heading, hell-bent for leather, with Lily, into danger.
And there was absolutely no assurance that he wouldn't have to go in alone.
"The dogs have to have a break." Lily cut into his thoughts. "Sorry."
"We'll stop for half an hour. Enough time?" He knew she wanted to beg for a couple of hours. No can do, he thought, slowing the dogs gradually.
She was a trouper, and his heart swelled with emotion when she said quietly, "Fine."
They pulled off under a thick stand of trees, taking time to light a small fire to heat coffee and soup and food for the dogs. Derek did kitchen duty while Lily meticulously went down the line checking and rechecking the dogs' feet and legs for ice cuts.
"Everyone's good except Rio," she told him through the lip mic. "I'll take him up in the basket for the next leg and then see how he does." She came to stand beside him, muffled so that all that showed were her eyes behind her goggles. "I hate to delay us more than necessary, but they have to rest and eat."
"I know. The break won't hurt us, either. We've been making good time, all things considered." He glanced up at the lowering clouds and the never-ceasing fall of snow. If anything the storm was worsening. As were the chances of the good guys being at the location when he arrived.
Ground teams would be coming up from Anchorage. They'd have to stop for gas to fuel snowmobiles. No, Derek acknowledged to himself, there was now only a snowball's chance in hell of him having backup. His eye throbbed in protest.
There wasn't a damn thing he could do about his vision. Or this storm.
Jesus.
"Coffee done yet?" Lily looked longingly at the blackened pot over the fire.
"Another couple of minutes. The pot's so cold it's taking longer to heat up. How are you holding up, sweetheart?"
"I'm peachy. Frozen-daiquiri kinda peachy, but peachy all the same. How's your poor eye?"
"Doesn't need the sock anymore."
Her eyes crinkled, but he couldn't see her smile behind the scarf. "I'm so relieved. It would spoil the whole James Bond image if you had to chase the bad guys with a gym sock pressed to your face."
"I love you, Lily."
Her eyes widened behind the goggles. Shock? Surprise? Pleasure?
"I, ah, love you, too," she said, voice muffled. "I'll go unharness the kids while that brews. Be right back."
And she was gone.
That went amazingly well, Derek thought ruefully, shaking his head as he watched Lily working with the dogs through a veil of falling snow. He hadn't meant to blurt it out like that. But just looking at her had made his heart swell with love and pride. He'd felt it for so long that saying he loved her sounded natural. To him. The timing sucked, of course, as did the location. But she'd taken his declaration in stride. Too much in her stride. He was sure she'd repeated the words back to him more by rote than from the heart.
He shook his head.
It wasn't like him to blurt out something that important. Clearly she'd heard the words, but not the passion nor the sincerity behind them. Or if she'd heard it, she sure as hell didn't believe it. Bless her stubborn little heart.
No. His fault.
She deserved better than a blurted declaration in a place like this, and at a time like this. He turned his libido down to a slow simmer, and promised himself the next time he told Lily Munroe he loved her, they'd be somewhere romantic, there wouldn't be a dog in sight and he'd be holding her hand—so she couldn't run away.
Seventeen
Don't even think about it. Dismiss it. Treat it as casually as Derek did. Lily closed her eyes, and snuggled down in the sled to stay warm while Derek fed the animals, and the falling snow turned to ice again.
When a sophisticated man like Derek told a woman he was sleeping with he loved her, that didn't mean he loved her. She got it.
"Move over," he instructed, looming over her.
"Geez, Louise, there's barely enough room—Whoa!" He climbed in and in one quick move twisted her up and over so she was sprawled on top of his body. "Okay. That'll work."
He chuckled as he pulled the insulated sleeping bag up to cover their heads.
Toasty.
"Hi," he said, pressing a hot, yearning kiss onto her mouth.
Lily touched his face in the darkness, mentally cursed her glove and managed, between biting the fingertips and sheer desperation, to get it off her hand. She cupped his rough jaw with warm fingers. He needed a shave. She rubbed his prickly cheek with her palm, loving the feel of him. "Hi, back," she whispered against his mouth. She wished they were naked instead of bundled from head to toe and smothered by a sleeping bag. She wished—
She wished.
"One day," he told her, nibbling her jaw, "we're going to make love outside in the sunshine. Take a blanket down to the pond, spread it out on the grass and get naked. How's that sound?"
As if he imagined her still with him in three or four months. Her heart jittered and she forced it to behave with difficulty. There was no point wishing for something that wasn't even close to the realm of possibility. If she'd imagined this man out of her reach before, knowing he was a spy type put him over the fence and locked the gate. "I'd settle for a nice wide bed right now," Lily told him, arching her throat to give him access.
"I've thought of making love to you ever since we made love." He rubbed her lips with his. A sweet, yearning gesture that made Lily ache inside as soft, silky ribbons of emotion unfurled inside her. "I need to touch you." He paused to kiss her as though he had hours and hours to devote to learning the shape and texture of her mouth instead of a few stolen minutes. "Skin to skin."
Lily's breath quickened as she trailed her mouth across his strong jaw. "As lovely as that sounds," she nibbled at his mouth, "not even for great sex am I going to get naked right now." She ran her tongue across the seam of his lips until he welcomed her in.
Despite the many layers of clothing separating them, Lily could feel his hard length pressed against her thigh.
"We'll liberate the essentials," he rasped against her mouth as he managed to unbutton his jeans with one hand. "How 'bout that?"
"Hmmm." She twisted her upper body so he could unbutton her coat while she fumbled through his layers at the same time.
The sled bounced and creaked as he pushed the fabric around his hips down and out of the way; the sleeping bag slipped off the top of her head, letting in a knife-sharp sliver of freezing air. Lily started giggling at how ridiculous this was, and Derek chuckled as he nuzzled her cheek.
But his hand unerringly found her breast. "Jackpot," Lily said breathlessly, laughter still effervescing in her chest as his clever fingers slid through multiple layers of heavy clothing to find bare skin. She whimpered with pleasure
when he played with her erect nipples.
"Were you doing something with that hand down there?" he asked politely, shifting his leg to give her hand better access.
"This one?"
He dragged in a shuddering breath as her fingers closed around his turgid length. "Jesus," he said on a choked laugh, as his body reacted to the cold. "Your hand's like freaking ice!"
"Suck it up," Lily told him, feeling saucy and sexy, and ridiculously happy. She hadn't known until this moment just how much she had to offer, desperately wanted to offer. To him. She wanted to give him everything she was, everything she hoped to be—Her heart lodged high in her throat as emotions engulfed her.
Either she had to fight this, or she had to let go and surrender to the inevitable.
Lily slipped under.
She took his mouth and used her tongue to demonstrate how her body felt. Hot. Yearning. Needy and willing to give everything.
He jumped beneath her fingers, growing and warming to the touch. It didn't take long for him to return to hot and hard in her hand, and her body ached to feel him deep inside her.
The bed of the sled was narrow, there was absolutely no room to maneuver, and they both had on so many layers Lily couldn't imagine how on earth they were going to do the deed. Laughing, frustrated and giddy with desire, she stroked Derek until he groaned into her mouth in frustration.
She used her tongue and teeth on his mouth, biting, nibbling, loving the power, the heady rush of knowing he was completely focused on her. On her mouth and on her hands.
His fingers tightened briefly on her breast. Lily whimpered as his hand fell away. "Hey! Come back! I was enjoying—" His large, impatient hands tunneled under the open wings of her coat, yanking up layers, and rolling her onto her side so that she bumped the edge of the sled and the sleeping bag slipped.
She didn't notice.
His hands were still busily trying to get her naked.
Hot. Burning. Eager. She shifted her legs to grant him access to her zipper. Good old Levi's sewed their buttons on really well. There would be no pulling this one off in his hurry. The heavy-duty stitching made him take his own sweet time, as he fumbled one-handed to undo the button and unzip her jeans at the same time.
"You've done this before," Lily accused, smiling against his mouth as the zipper went down millimeter by millimeter. The recalcitrant button remained stubbornly in the buttonhole.
"Graduated from unfastening a bra around—damn it, is this button superglued shut or what?—a pillow, one-handed, mind you, to button-front jeans and—Ah…"
"Ahhh," Lily echoed as Derek's hand slid across her stomach and his fingers delved into the flattened curls waiting for him. She shifted as best she could to give him better access.
He caressed her until her laughter tangled with desire. Heat surged through her, making their cocoon steamy and filled with the fragrance of arousal.
"Can we—?" she demanded, trying to wiggle her jeans down over her hips.
"Now this is a position I can enjoy," Derek murmured wickedly as her movements opened her up even more and he slipped several fingers inside her slick heat.
"H-hold that thought," Lily told him grimly, using both hands to shove her jeans as far as she could without rolling off him. Not that there was anywhere to go. "Could you lift—the other way—now the other—no. Yes!"
Four hands, impatient and clumsy, finally managed to push aside enough fabric. Lily threw her knee over his hip, then slid her open body, verrry, veeeeery s-l-o-w-l-y across his until he begged for mercy in a hoarse, unrecognizable voice.
He slid his fingers between her taut body and unerringly found the hard little nub nestled in her damp curls. "Wright," he drawled brokenly in sexy James Bond British. "Derek Wright." And he slipped inside her.
Lily's back arched at the sharp, sweet, exquisite sensation of being filled to the hilt. Heart pounding loudly enough to hear, she ran her hands down his flanks, then gripped the clenching muscles in his lean backside and dug in her short nails to bring him closer.
A slow roll started low in Lily's loins and gained momentum until she grabbed his butt and held on as her body bowed and arched under his. It took only seconds for them to climax. Together.
They lay panting, unable to move, snow falling where the sleeping bag had slipped off.
Inches away, a dog huffed and growled.
"Dingbat's confused," Lily said, groggy and satiated.
"When he's a little older," Derek brushed her hair off her damp cheek, "we'll sit him down and give him the talk about the birds and the bees."
Crystal chandeliers of ice dripped from every branch. Fortunately the snow had slowed. Unfortunately the wind had picked up, whipping snow and ice in violent swirls across the ground.
Hell wasn't heat and flames, Derek thought, bent double in the strong arctic wind. It was snow, frozen sharp as a pick, with wind driving the cold deep through half a dozen layers of clothes, searching for skin.
He pushed back the discomfort.
He'd tried contacting Dare off and on for the past three hours. The line was dead. Nice knowing backup was ready, but not worth an ice cube to a polar bear since no one would be able to fly in. Not for several hours at least.
He'd left Lily two miles away from the coordinates Dare had given him, sheltered beneath a dense stand of trees. Unfortunately they couldn't risk a fire. She'd taken three of the dogs up into the sled with her, and they bundled beneath as many layers of insulation as they had with them: sleeping bags, a tarp and the extra clothing in the duffel bags.
"How you doing?" he asked softly into the mic.
"F-freezing my adenoids off, thanks for a-asking."
He put his head down against the gale, and smiled. "Kids not keeping you warm?"
"Sure they a-are. Did the g-good g-guys sh-show up yet?" she asked hopefully.
Nothing was going to show up in this weather. Whatever, whoever, wasn't here yet, and was going to have to wait out this storm. "Not yet." But he was praying as he'd never done before. "But the good news is I've found the facility I was looking for."
He'd also found a de Havilland Beaver in a snow-covered Quonset hut behind the main building. The best news he'd got all day. The Beaver was one of the most dependable aircraft around, and was there for the use of the Marines staffing the installation. It would be in top working order. He was depending on it.
"Don't g-go anywhere without backup!"
Like he had a choice? Adrenaline pumped hard and fast. He didn't answer the question, or address the worry he heard in her voice. "Lily?"
"I'm here."
"See the two tall trees south of you?" he asked through the mic. At her affirmative he gave her instruction on how to get to the plane.
"Hook the dogs to it—it's on skis—then drag it all the way to the other end of the runway and turn it back the way you came. Hopefully this snow will keep up long enough to cover the tarp. You'll be able to hide it in plain sight. Can you do that?"
"Ah—Of c-course," Lily assured him, teeth chattering. "I'm presuming you know it'll f-fly, and it has gas and all that good s-stuff?"
"Yeah. This puppy is old, but well maintained. It'll fly. Not until we get a break in the weather, but it's sound. Load the dogs in it when you have it situated. It'll give you better protection from the elements. I'll meet you there when I'm done."
As casually as if he were calling from work to see if she needed a quart of milk on his way home, Lily thought. She eyeballed the two trees up ahead, reluctant to leave the dubious protection of the trees under which she'd stopped to wait for him to reconnoiter the installation.
"I'll take care of it," she told him, striving to sound calm and competent. "Go do your thing. We'll be fine. Hike," she told the dogs quietly, and they moved forward. The headset went silent.
She'd go and find the de Havilland, she and the kids would drag it wherever the hell Derek wanted it, and then they'd climb aboard and wait for him.
But there was no way, no
way in hell, she was flying anywhere.
Derek had to block Lily out of his mind. He needed full concentration on the job at hand. He'd practically fallen over the plane, and that was only because the Quonset hut was large enough to slam into. It had taken a little more time to find the cement building he was looking for. And then only because he had precise coordinates.
The snow reflected a little light, and his night-vision goggles provided enough definition to see shapes. Pretty much everything looked like a snow hill.
All that was visible was a wide door, cracked open a few inches; the rest of the small, shedlike structure had been buried in wind-driven snow.
He walked the circumference, found two snowmobiles backing the building, both half covered with snow, but clearly there'd been no attempt to hide them. Not the personnel manning the station. They'd used the de Havilland.
Each vehicle could potentially carry six men. But there was no sign of anyone. No visual. No sound.
"Am I allowed to talk?" Lily whispered in his ear.
"Go," he told her barely above a whisper as he pulled the distributor wires from each vehicle and tucked them into his pockets.
"I found the plane. I'm hooking it up to the gang line now."
"Be careful," Derek told her, scanning the area for footprints or anything else indicating how many men had entered the building.
"You, too. I—Just be extra careful, okay?"
"Make sure the tarp's covering the entire plane when you get it situated, get in and lock the doors," he told her softly, blocking out the tremor of fear he heard in her voice. He doubted anyone who didn't know Lily well would've picked up that she was scared out of her mind. "I'll be there before you know it," he told her gently, and then added, "Radio silence unless you have an emergency."
He clicked off before she replied. Lily may be afraid, but she'd do what he asked of her, and she wouldn't take any foolish chances. She was aware of how volatile the situation was. Still, when he'd packed for this last leg of their trip he'd transferred most of his weapons and ammo to her. An arsenal. Keeping several weapons for his own use, he'd given her the Walther and his rifle, both fully loaded, and ammunition to spare for each. She was an excellent shot. And he knew she wouldn't hesitate to shoot should the need arise.