by Cindy Dees
Mac looked aside from his own field glasses, and his gaze met and captured hers. Her thoughts must have been mirrored in her eyes, because he mouthed, “Damn, Susan.”
“Kiss me, Mac,” she murmured in a moment of sheer insanity.
His eyes widened and he leaned toward her. “Oh, man, I…” He pulled away slightly. “Honey, I’m working.”
Oh man, he what? She would kill to hear the rest of that sentence.
“There’s nobody here yet, Mac. Just one little peck?”
His voice was tight. “It’s my responsibility to keep you safe. I need to focus on my job right now.” A pause. “Besides, when have we ever managed just a little peck between us?”
Were it not for the rippling muscles in his jaw, she might have believed he was as calm as he sounded. But as it was, he radiated tension like a tiger waiting to spring on its prey.
She didn’t push him. After all, he was right. Silence fell between them as he scanned the valley below, apparently engrossed in his surveillance. Except his tension didn’t go away. She still felt it vibrating powerfully through his body. Thinking about her, was he? The ground was hard and rocky, and she shifted, trying to get comfortable. Her knee was really going to make her pay tomorrow, but for the time being, it was bearable.
What had possessed her to ask him to kiss her? Was she that ready to fall back in love with him again? She hardly knew Mac Conlon anymore. Every now and then she caught glimpses of the engaging, charming guy he used to be. And then the dangerous, disciplined soldier would take his place. She had no business chasing after this man.
He moved against her, to get a better view of the valley or maybe to ease a cramp. His muscular thigh pressed even closer, his hip grinding against hers in a way that made her think wicked thoughts. Her pulse shot through the roof, and her gaze slipped back to his earlobe. A sensual haze coiled around her until it all but suffocated her. She was uncomfortably warm. A heavy languor wrapped around her limbs, and her body craved the weight of him pressing down upon her and into her. She watched avidly as he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
“Suzie,” he murmured. “Cut it out.”
“Cut what out?” she asked as innocently as she could muster.
She was surprised when, instead of answering her, he reached for his throat. “Dutch, current position on the targets?”
“Sneaking loudly toward our base camp. They’re about five feet from the first perimeter trap.”
A cracking noise drifted up the valley, followed by a gentle rumble.
The Viking’s deep voice came again. “Correction. They just found the first perimeter trap.”
“How’d it go?” Mac asked.
Dutch chuckled. “Have you ever seen six macho guys lying in a heap trying not to touch anything embarrassing while they untangle themselves?”
Mac grinned. “Outstanding. Let me know when they head this way.”
“Roger,” Dutch murmured.
Mac released the button. Susan rolled onto her back as Mac raised himself up on his elbow and stared down at her grimly. “Suzie, you’re playing with fire. I’m not a kid anymore. Don’t tease me unless you’re sure you can deal with the consequences.”
The threat in his words was tangible. If she baited him, she’d better be prepared to follow through. Was she? Was she ready to get involved with this version of Mac? There were so many reasons to say no. But the only answer that came to her was a resounding yes from deep down in her soul.
He didn’t give her any more time to consider her answer. His mouth swooped down upon hers like a night-flying hawk pouncing on its prey. He surrounded her like the darkness, a blanket of hot and cold, rough and smooth, strong and gentle. His leg slid across hers, trapping her on her back. His arms were the hawk’s wings, spread wide in a protective tent around his prey.
And his mouth. It was hot and restless upon hers. And then it slid to her cheeks, her eyelids, lower to her neck. He fed upon her flesh greedily, testing and tasting. He shifted slightly, and one of his hands was under her shirt, sliding higher.
She lurched, and he rolled instantly on top of her, pinning her immobile. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice dark silk. “I’ve told you before not to move too suddenly around someone like me. Remember?”
Jittery, yet enthralled, she gazed into his eyes, which burned hot and hungry as she nodded.
Beneath his predatory gaze, she panted with the thrill of it. She reveled in the desire that devoured Mac’s gaze. And then he all but devoured her.
All thought ceased as her world became a tangle of hot kisses, cold ground, the roughness of his beard stubble, and the silky softness of his mouth upon hers.
Half out of her mind with wanting more of him, she reached between them, seeking to remove the fabric keeping her from ultimate fulfillment.
Mac groaned, grabbing her wrist, and she looked up. His face was drawn with pain and pleasure so intense it looked as if he was completely lost in a private hell somewhere between the two extremes. “Later,” he mumbled, breathing heavily.
“Look sharp, Mac. Four hostiles headed right at you. They got sick of messing around with your traps. The other two are scouting a spot where they can keep a lookout on the camp.”
Mac spit out a curse with more disgust than Susan had ever imagined could be packed into one word. He rolled away and lay on his back, his arm flung across his eyes. She was gratified to see that he was breathing as raggedly as she was.
“Susan,” he murmured. “We’ve got to go. I’m sorry…”
Not half as sorry as she was. She sighed, supremely frustrated. “I suppose we’d better get to it, then.”
He laughed shortly. “I’m not sure I can walk.” But despite his words, he rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself to his feet with quick power.
She sat up more slowly. The sexual haze hanging in the air around them cleared slowly. What was it about him that drove her completely beyond the edge of sanity? She couldn’t get enough of a man she ought to want nothing to do with.
Except this was Mac. Her Mac. The only man she’d ever loved and the only one who’d ever loved her. For all the world, it appeared that he still felt at least some of the same feelings for her that he had a decade ago. The thought fairly made her head spin. Her body tingled from head to toe, and she felt more alive than she had in years. It was like coming out of a long sleep.
Mac moved close enough behind her to murmur into her ear without using the mike, “How’s your knee holding up?”
“It’ll be fine as long as we don’t jog for any long distances.” She turned around to face him. He was so close she could almost count his eyelashes. “Shouldn’t we be going?” she murmured.
He looked down at her for a long moment, his expression turbulent. What was he thinking? He nodded to her and turned to lead the way deeper into the canyon.
They’d been on the move for fifteen or twenty minutes when Mac suddenly crouched down in front of her. He gestured sharply with his hand for her to do the same. Sticking her left leg out to the side and squatting on her right heel, she was able to get down as low as Mac. She tried to breathe quietly, but they’d been moving uphill for a while, and she was huffing.
And then she heard it. Rocks sliding under feet.
Close.
Really close.
A rush of adrenaline screamed through her body, and it was all she could do not to leap up and run the other direction as fast as she could. Mac eased down onto his hands and knees, and she did the same, her whole body trembling. Rocks were sharp beneath her palms, but the pain had no meaning. Someone out to kill her was only a few yards away!
Mac crept to their left, off the faint trail and behind some scrubby bushes. She followed suit, dragging her useless left leg behind her. Top speed for her was painstakingly slow. Every second passed in an agony of anticipation. If only she didn’t already know what it felt like to have a bullet tear into her, destroying flesh and bones and stealing life.
Mac br
eathed into her ear. “Lie down and cover yourself with this. Stay here and don’t move. I’ll be back soon.” He pressed something that felt like a folded bed sheet into her hands. Chagrin gnawed at her. She couldn’t keep up and he was forced to leave her here. No doubt he was going to go be a decoy or do something equally dangerous to draw Ruala away from the cripple.
If Mac got hurt, or worse, it would be all her fault. The euphoria of a couple hours spent on a real mission with Mac faded, leaving behind only the bitter gall of her disability.
She pulled on the corners of the blanket and it slithered open soundlessly. It was a dull, gray-black color. Mac tugged it over her whole body, leaving only the tiniest slit for her to see through. He eased away from her, crawling parallel to the path in the direction they’d just come from until she could hardly see him anymore. She waited, her heart pounding, for Ruala and his men to draw near. And then she glanced down the trail in the direction Mac had gone. She stared in horror as he moved into the path behind the thugs, clearly visible in the bright moonlight.
Dear God, let the bad guys not be looking that way.
Mac fiddled briefly with something about the size of a brick, and then he melted back off the path into the shadows. Susan released her breath slowly. It was stuffy bordering on hot under the cover. She fingered it, and it felt like a cross between plastic and satin.
She jerked as it lifted away from her suddenly. Her heart all but stopped beating in the shock of discovery. She sagged as Mac slid in beside her, under the cover. He pressed a finger to his lips.
Hah. She didn’t think she could speak if she had to. Her heart clogged her throat completely. He plastered himself against her, and his arm settled protectively over her. And then she heard feet sliding on rock. The bad guys were very near their position. Mac’s arm tightened, pressing her down into the dirt, half beneath him.
The footsteps drew even with her head and stopped. She guessed the men were maybe ten feet away.
A gravelly voice spoke in accented English. Ruala. “They’ve got to be here somewhere. Can’t you see them with that gizmo?”
Another male voice answered, irritated. “I can’t see what’s not there to be seen.”
Ruala growled, “When I find these people, I’m going to hurt them bad before I kill them for causing us so much trouble.”
Susan gulped. The footsteps moved back down the trail toward Mac’s latest handiwork.
A few seconds later Mac’s weight eased off her. He gestured to her again. He wanted her to go with him now? But what if Ruala saw them? Why couldn’t they just lie here under their magic blanket of invisibility? He gestured again, more insistently. She supposed she ought to get moving. He’d probably sling her over his shoulder and drag her up the hill if she didn’t go of her own volition. She gathered what nerves she had left and pulled back the blanket.
She ventured a quick look over her shoulder. Good Lord. The bad guys’ backs were in plain sight heading down the trail.
Mac tugged on her arm, and she turned back to him. Worry for her was plainly etched on his face. There was no doubt about it. He genuinely cared for her. But did she dare let him? Time froze, suspended like a dewdrop on the end of a leaf. He blinked once, in slow motion, as she stared at him. She’d reached a crossroads and she must choose a path.
His hand moved as slowly as the creeping of a glacier toward her cheek. His fingertips touched her face lightly, promising her everything she’d ever need from life. The dewdrop moment in time trembled and fell away.
“Come on,” he breathed. “Go with me.”
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t harden her heart against Mac any longer.
As fast as she could go on one leg and two hands, she crawled up the hill behind him. He stopped behind a boulder near the top of the hill and sat down, his back leaning against the rock. Susan mimicked his action, grateful for the rest.
He murmured, “We’ll stay here until those jerks get to my trap. I didn’t have time to set a trip wire, so I’ve got to blow it manually. When I do that, we’ll roll over the top of this ridge, and hump fast down the other side. Can you do that?”
“I’ll make a lot of noise.”
“There’s going to be a lot of noise. I set up a bunch of shale to come down. It’ll rain rock for a couple minutes.”
Susan nodded.
“I’m going to stay behind to watch our backs. Just head straight down that hill. There are a lot of big rocks casting dark shadows on the way down. Stick to those as best you can. I’ll meet you at the bottom. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He eased around the side of the rock, gazing through his night-vision goggles. Without looking away, he passed Susan the other NVG’s from his pack. She peeked around her side of the boulder.
Four white silhouettes moved down the hillside. They were getting close to where Mac had crawled out into the path.
Mac murmured, “Would you like to do the honors?”
“Uh, sure.”
He pressed a small remote control into her hand. “When I say so, push the red button.”
Her palm went slick with sweat, and her finger trembled on the button. Each step the four men took brought them closer to Mac’s trap.
Mac bit out, “Now.”
She mashed the button, then jumped as a deafening thunder of rock abruptly cascaded down the hillside. She was just turning away to head over the ridge like Mac had said to, when she heard him let loose a profanity. She froze. Had she screwed it up? “What happened? What’s wrong?” she asked frantically.
He nodded back behind them. “Look for yourself. You’ll hear it in a second.”
She turned back in the direction of Ruala in time to see an entire slab of the mountain slowly sliding downward, gathering momentum and speed.
Mac announced in disgust, “I hit a fault line and started a freaking avalanche.”
The rumble reached them the same instant that the ground began to shake. The last thing Susan saw as she turned to run for her life was the four white blobs turning to sprint back up the hill toward them in a desperate effort to avoid the rock fall.
She took two steps before her leg locked up and toppled her flat on her face. And then she was on her hands and knees, scrabbling as best she could until she topped the ridge.
Mac’s voice spoke in her ear, low and urgent. “Get up and run, Suzie. As fast as you can.”
She came to her feet on the steep incline. Her leg moved like a clumsy block of wood attached to her body. She stumbled forward, half sliding and half falling down the mountainside. She felt her fingernails tearing as she broke her momentum against rough boulders. All her limbs protested as she braced herself, desperate to stop her madcap descent from becoming an out and out fall down the slope.
She slammed into a boulder, knocking the breath out of herself. She somersaulted once, but flung out her limbs and managed to halt the tumbling. Still the descent went on. The drop became sharper. She gasped for air and picked up even more speed. Stiff-armed, her legs thrust out in front of her, she slid the rest of the way down the mountain on her behind.
She landed on her back with a thud. C’mon, self. Breathe.
Painfully, she dragged herself a few feet to the deep shadows of a looming rock formation. She looked back up the hill. Nobody had followed her. Had Mac gotten away from Ruala and his men? Had they caught him in their unexpected sprint back toward him? Was he up there right now, in trouble because of her? Did she dare try to reach him on her throat microphone?
Better not try it in case the noise in his earpiece was audible to other people. She wouldn’t want to give him away if he were hiding in a tight spot. Worry for him tightened her chest until it was hard to breathe.
She lifted the field glasses, which had miraculously managed to stay around her neck during her descent, and watched the slope—practically a cliff—behind her. No movement. She leaned back against the rock and caught her breath. She did not need to do anything like that again anytime soon.
Seconds stretched into minutes, and then into longer than she cared to think about. Where in the world was Mac? He said he would meet her here. What if something had happened to him? She had absolutely no idea where she was right now. She couldn’t find her way back to their camp if she had to. Mac had to be safe. He had to come find her. He had to.
Maybe she should risk using the microphone to call him. She debated the idea until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She pressed her throat button and whispered, “Mac, where are you?”
Nothing.
She tried again. Still nothing.
“Dutch, Mac. Anybody?”
There wasn’t any sound at all in her earpiece. Not even the faint static she remembered. And she couldn’t hear her own breathing like she had before. Oh no. Her radio was broken. She must have hit it on something coming down the mountain. Great. She pulled her good knee up to her chest and hugged it while she watched the hillside glumly for Mac.
Suddenly a hand slammed across her mouth and yanked her back into the deep shadows. She screamed against the big, hard palm, but no sound escaped.
“It’s me.”
She sagged back against Mac while her terror abated. His hand eased away from her mouth, and she hissed, “You just scared ten years off my life, Mac Conlon! Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that aga—”
His hand went back over her mouth.
He pulled her against him, tucking her body close against his. His heat was as soothing as a warm bath. His mouth moved against her ear as he murmured very low, “We’ve got a little problem. Our four goons have split up to look for another way out of the canyon. The avalanche blocked the entrance they used. They’re wandering all over the place.”
Susan frowned. Then why didn’t she and Mac make their way to the other end of the valley and get out of here?
Mac continued, his voice so quiet she had to strain to hear it, even though his lips were tickling her earlobe. “Thing is, the other exit has no cover at all. We wouldn’t stand a chance of getting out of here unseen. Plus, it leads straight to our camp, where the other two hostiles are parked.”