by Debra
It felt better to sit down, her legs outstretched, Will’s hard body warm beside her. She didn’t know how he’d found her and she needed a few answers, but she understood she was crashing from the stress of a sustained fight-or-flight response.
Her body recognized him even if her mind argued obstinately. Relaxing into his embrace, she let her head drop to his shoulder. “Clint is dead,” she whispered into the night.
“I know, baby.”
“He’s dead.” She looked down at her hands, muted smears against her khaki hiking pants. “He died in my arms.”
“I know.”
* * *
WILL BREATHED EASIER when Charly fell asleep. Giving her time to rest was the least he could do after the wicked fight she’d put up. If he’d known giving away his position would result in her rushing headlong off the mountainside, he would’ve come up with a better way to let her know he was there.
Her lean body was solid muscle under those subtle, feminine curves.
When he’d found the gun in her jacket, he counted himself lucky she hadn’t shot him. He’d expected the knife—it only made sense—but she hadn’t used either against him. He chalked it up to her being in full-flight mode. She’d done everything—including run off a small cliff—to get away from him.
It hadn’t been easy to find her in the dark; if she hadn’t left that bogus trail before doubling back, he might still be wandering around. The woman could move with the absolute silence and grace of a mountain lion when she chose. It had been more than a little spooky to watch her.
She didn’t make a sound or leave a trace unless she wanted to, although their wrestling match on the other side of the meadow had left plenty of evidence that would gather unwelcome attention if Lancaster bothered to search this far.
It wouldn’t matter. The only way Will could be sure what Reed Lancaster was up to was to stay on the man’s tail. He smoothed a hand over the silk of Charly’s midnight hair, hoping when she woke up she’d be willing to help him execute his plan. If they found the plane or key Lancaster was searching for, they could put this mission to bed and she could get back to her regularly scheduled life.
Chapter Nine
Hours later, under the weak light of a dawn shrouded by misty rain, Charly planted her hands on her hips and glared daggers at Will. “We’re not going back to where those devils are.” She shook her head. “Absolutely not.” Her muscles ached, her eyes felt gritty. Every time she looked at her hands she saw Clint’s blood. She wasn’t going to take any chances that Lancaster would escape justice. They needed the authorities up here. “We have to go for help.”
“I am the help,” Will said.
She wanted to believe it. Admittedly, he’d helped her last night, giving her shelter and security to recover a bit. “Why didn’t you announce yourself rather than chase me?”
“I let you know I was there.”
“Breaking a twig hardly counts.” She needed to get over it, but it annoyed her that she hadn’t even sensed him until he’d taken action. Mailmen weren’t typically praised for stealth.
“You’re pissed thinking I got the better of you, but really it was sheer luck I caught you before you disappeared from the false trail you laid.”
She pushed her hands through her hair, combing out the tangles and wishing she hadn’t ditched her ball cap in that effort. “How can we be sure you didn’t leave signs out there showing them exactly where to find me?”
“They aren’t here, are they?”
Fair point. She blew her hair away from her face.
“What do you need from me, Charly?”
His tone was as hard as the grim look on his face. She’d never seen him so serious. It scared her a little. Resigned, she pulled her hair forward over her shoulder and started weaving it into a braid. She didn’t miss the way his eyes tracked the motions.
“Nothing,” she insisted. “I’m going up to the ranger station to let them know Lancaster is a problem child. You go ahead and do whatever you have to do.”
He’d told her he was on some kind of undercover assignment, but she couldn’t quite wrap her head around that yet. Not that he hadn’t proven himself capable—last night’s fight was plenty of evidence. Could her mailman really be this guy?
They’d gone out a few times, but she wasn’t naive enough to think he owed her anything. What irked her was how he’d given her a taste of the facts without telling her anything of real value. Navy was one thing. SEAL was completely different.
“I don’t want you out here alone,” he argued, not for the first time since he’d woken her.
“I can handle myself.”
“In any other situation I’d agree.”
Charly stamped her feet and blew into her cupped palms. It would be cold most of the day. The overhang offered a break from the worst bite of the wind, but a fire would’ve been nice. They just couldn’t risk it.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Charly stared at Will. There was no mistaking the honesty in his clear blue eyes. How could she have been so wrong about a person? Her mailman, her new friend, the guy she’d wanted to be more...well, based on the story he’d told her, he sure was more.
“Undercover?” She echoed the word he’d used when he’d tried to explain.
Will nodded. “I didn’t expect anything to happen this soon. If ever.”
“Unexpected is part of it, right?”
Again, the nod.
She couldn’t figure out why her feelings were hurt. He hadn’t led her on or used her, but she still felt cheated. Deceived. “Was I some kind of target?”
“No.” He reached out, then let his hands drop. “Before Lancaster, no one in Durango was a target. You have a reputation for tracking, but that’s not why I asked you out.” His gaze roamed past her shoulder and over the horizon, then returned to her, but he didn’t elaborate. “We don’t really have time to do this now,” he said flatly.
She supposed he would know more about the timeline for managing this problem than she did. “You’re convinced Lancaster’s trying to reach a crashed plane?”
According to Will, her deceptive client was out here trying to recover a bit of technology for his master plan. A plan that could break through any kind of security encryption. She thought about the vast size of the forest. The needle-in-a-haystack image didn’t come close.
“That’s how the intel is shaping up.”
Undercover mailman. Government intel. A dead friend. She chewed on her lip. It was a lot to take in. He’d told her being a mailman in Durango went with the assignment. A mailman. She gave whoever had dreamed that up points for originality. Undercover explained the extreme fitness, and he’d certainly proved himself skilled and capable out here. It added up...but her mailman?
How had she let herself be so blinded? Tammy’s voice popped into her head. Will had plenty of “blinding” features. The shoulders. The ass. Couldn’t forget the eyes. Or the sexy scar on his chin.
“How’d you get the scar?”
He swiped at the thin white line with his fingers, then stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’ll tell you on the way back to Lancaster’s camp.”
Charly planted her hands on her hips and glared daggers at him. “Tell me on the way to the ranger station.” She wasn’t ready to go back. She might never be ready to face Lancaster again. The idea made her stomach clench. No matter how much she scrubbed, she knew she’d see Clint’s blood on her hands for days. Longer. They were going back to Durango and alerting the authorities. She would not entertain any ideas that allowed Lancaster to escape justice.
“I have to stay on Lancaster,” Will said softly.
She believed him, knew he’d probably spent more time than he should have caring for her overnight.
“I could use your expertise.”
She didn’t like that he knew just which buttons to push. She didn’t want to part ways, didn’t want to evaluate all of her reasons. “If you need to go back, fine. I�
��ll get back to town and file a formal report against Lancaster for murder. That should make your job easier.”
“That’s not smart.” His breath made soft clouds in the cold air. “We need to stick together on this.”
She shook her head. Tracking was one thing. Tracking seven armed men, one of them too ready to kill—no. “We’re both adults here. I can take care of myself.
“I don’t want you out here alone,” he said again. “He’ll send someone for you.”
“And I’ll be ready.” She patted the gun in her jacket pocket. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
He grumbled something she couldn’t quite make out. Wasn’t sure she wanted to hear. She didn’t ask because she was done wasting daylight. “Well.” She knelt down to adjust the laces on her boots, struggling to keep herself together. “Thanks for the assist last night.”
“What if we go straight for the plane?”
“I beg your pardon?” The idea was absurd.
He crouched beside her. “We know where he’s going, so we beat him to the prize.”
She stood up and paced away as Will kept talking.
“Sending men after you means better numbers for us. Two against six, then hopefully just five.”
“If we take his prize, as you put it, he’ll come after us.”
“Exactly. Giving us the power to lead him wherever we want him to end up.”
The idea had merit. It appealed to the voice in her heart clamoring to avenge Clint. But two against five, probably six? “One problem.”
“Only one? That’s doable.”
She fought off her amusement at his bald confidence. “We don’t know where the plane is.”
“Sure we do.”
“More intel?”
“Yes.” He stepped close to her. “Your intel.”
His fingertips brushed her temple, and she locked her knees to keep them steady. The heat of his body, so close, tempted her on a level that had nothing to do with national security. Different scenarios played through her head. Getting caught by Lancaster’s men. Running off with Will. Lancaster getting away with murder. Will might only have one problem, but suddenly she felt inundated.
She focused on the biggest one first. Going after the plane was akin to snipe hunting. There were too many places it could be. Even more likely, pieces of wreckage could be scattered across miles. “Why do you think I have any information?”
“You’re the best tracker in four states, Charly.”
He delivered the statement with such sincerity. Not helpful. She gave a snort, tried to create a little distance, but he wouldn’t give her an inch. “In order to track something, tracks are required.”
His hands cruised gently over her shoulders. She wanted to lean in, to believe that something they’d shared in Durango had been more than his job. She resisted.
“He argued with you about the route, right?”
“Yes.” She looked up into his eyes. “You were following us a long time.” Close enough to listen in, and she hadn’t known. She was glad Will played for America and not against.
He shrugged. “Off and on from the start.” He stepped back, catching her hand with his, drawing her along with him.
From the start. She wrenched free of him. “You interrogated me last night.”
He jerked back as if she’d hit him. “I did no such thing.”
She waved her hands. “The night before. Over burgers and milkshakes, you interrogated me.”
“That’s stretching the definition.”
“Is it? You asked me routes and times and—” She felt the heat flood her face with the embarrassment of it all. He’d kissed her goodbye. Their first real kiss hadn’t been real at all. “You kissed me!”
“You didn’t complain at the time.”
She clamped her lips shut, covered them with a hand to keep from cursing him. Not that she really believed the wind would snatch him away on her command, but why take the chance? “You didn’t give me so much as a warning!” She wanted to shout, but knew better than to indulge her temper that way. If by some horrible stroke of luck Lancaster’s men were on the right trail, she wouldn’t be responsible for making it easier for them.
“What was I supposed to tell you?” He leaned back against the rock wall, hands in his pockets, his dark blue gaze unrelenting. “Any warning I might have given you required a long explanation I wasn’t cleared to give. There are restrictions that go along with my job.”
No job was worth Clint’s life. The fresh wave of sorrow stole her breath. “You thought it was better to send me up the mountain with a pack of wolves in engineers’ clothing?”
“Yes.” He tilted his head and cracked his neck.
“Clint died.”
He didn’t shy away from her blatant accusation. “You’d both be dead if I’d warned you.”
She wanted to be angry; instead it seemed all she could muster was more misery and grief. She’d lost a friend. Two, counting Will.
“Warning you would’ve caused more problems,” he contended.
“I wouldn’t have brought him up here,” she countered.
Will shook his head. “If you’d accepted my warning and if you’d believed my story, I think you would’ve gone ahead with this hike. But with my warning in your head, suspecting Lancaster was a problem waiting to happen would’ve made you nervous. He would’ve acted sooner and taken his chances on his own.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He’s desperate, Charly.” His quiet voice, full of sympathy, pricked her conscience. “You’ve seen that for yourself.”
Her arms were suddenly heavy as she remembered Clint’s lifeless body. She wanted to look away from Will, wanted to deny the logic in his explanation. Instead, she faced him head-on. “Were you out there?”
“Yes.”
She gave him points for not pretending to misunderstand the question. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I did what I thought best to protect you.”
What did that mean? Her mind spun. She’d been a fool to think a man like her ripped, smart mailman could really be into her. “I thought you were interested in me.”
“I am.”
Unbelievable. In fact, she believed everything he said but that. She rolled her eyes. “God, I’m gullible. You—” she waved her hands, indicating his whole body “—interested in me,” she repeated, incredulous. “I started to care.”
There it was—her real sticking point. She’d started to care for him, about him. She’d started to let the romantic fantasy color her view, making her see his actions and reactions in ways he didn’t intend. “Wow,” she muttered, owning her weakness. “That must’ve put you in a tight spot.”
“No.” He took a step toward her. “Charly, hear me out.”
She held up a hand, silencing him. She didn’t want to hear any more about how she’d developed a crush on the hot guy with the job to do. “Only if it’s about the plane. If I can help you with that, fine, but please don’t make me rehash the other stuff. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”
“Embarrassed?”
“I mean it, Will. We talk about the plane or Lancaster or I walk.”
“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “Ms. Binali, will you lend your skills to the United States government for the purpose of preventing a national security disaster?”
When he said it that way it made her want to help, despite the impossibility of it all. “Do you have any way to narrow the search field?”
Will took a sudden interest in his boots before he finally looked her in the eye. “Not according to my last communication.”
She started to explain the futility of it when he cut her off. “But you know where it is. When did Lancaster protest about the route you were taking?”
“Almost as soon as we left the parking lot.”
Will shook his head. “I’m betting there were specific moments.”
“Sure. He wanted to go due north when we were near the fi
rst challenge course.”
“Because he was tracking the beacon. We can head north on a line from those spots and find the plane first.”
“I’ve heard amazing stories from navy SEALs, but I didn’t know they could walk on air.” She ignored the frustrated furrow between his eyebrows, ignored her silly, girl-crush urge to soothe him. “The reason I led them around is because at that point the land runs out in a hurry. Going due north would’ve been a dangerous scenic route that dead-ends in a steep canyon.”
“Damn.” Will paced the short expanse of their camp with long legs and a quick stride. He rubbed one thumb across the opposite palm as he digested her news. “Do you recall anything they said about the beacon last night?”
“Only that it was still sending a strong signal.” She shook her head. “I was preoccupied.”
“I know.” His eyes were full of such a deep understanding she wanted to cry. “I know you don’t want to go back to see any of them, but if you aren’t confident about cutting them off, that’s our only option.”
She marveled at the emotions battling inside her. Never big on drama, it surprised her to swing from angry and empowered to sorrow and utter defeat in the span of a few seconds.
Giving up, she sat down at the edge of the slope and let her gaze roam.
Clearly, the job mattered to Will. He’d given her enough details that she understood the importance of his mission. Though she was angry with him, she recognized his determination to succeed against the steep odds.
“Charly?”
She felt him hovering behind her, smart enough not to touch. “I’m thinking.”
He sat down close by, and she did her best to ignore the sound of his breathing.
“Splitting up—” she began.
“Not an option,” he said.
“Makes sense,” she countered. “More eyes covering more ground in the search for Lancaster’s prize is sensib—”