Danger and Desire: A Romantic Suspense Anthology

by Kimberly Kincaid

  “The only way anyone is going to believe me is if I find the cave,” Isabel said, as if she could read Jenna’s mind—but probably it was simply her expression.

  “That’s true,” Jenna replied, scanning the forest before them. Just visible in the distance over the tops of the trees was a glaciered peak. As far as the eye could see from here, everything was Raptor land. Her gaze snapped back to Isabel. “You can’t possibly think you can find it. The compound, outside the concertina-wire fence, is massive. And even the areas that aren’t fenced are restricted.”

  “Restricted, sure, but what are the odds I’ll run into someone? Godfrey and Johnston only found us because you had to inform the powers that be we’d be here.”

  “But still, we’re talking about over thirty thousand acres.”

  She shrugged. “I have to try, Jenna. For Vin.”

  Jenna closed her eyes and remembered Vincent Dawson’s face—his warm smile and easy manner. He’d been a redhead like Isabel, but his hair was always buzz-cut short, so Jenna had no idea if he had the same curls as his younger sister.

  Vin had been in Tamarack for only a few months before his death, but he’d quickly become one of Jenna’s favorite operatives. If she hadn’t already latched on to lusting after Brad, she easily could have developed a crush on the soldier who loved the outdoors and Alaska even more than Jenna did. Isabel wanted justice for Vin. How could Jenna want anything less?

  “Just be careful, okay? If you get caught on Raptor land—especially if you’re near a training in progress, they’ll arrest you.”

  “I promise.”

  Jenna glanced at her watch. “We should head back. With the training wrapping up this afternoon, I’ve got a long shift ahead of me tonight.” The bar would be slammed with soldiers who would be bussed to Elmendorf Air Force Base tomorrow for their flight home after a grueling training exercise. But even more important, the trainers who’d been on the clock more than off since the training began ten days ago would be in the roadhouse too, ready to blow off steam and celebrate another successful session.

  They walked side by side on the trail to where Jenna’s car was parked. After a long stretch of silence, Isabel cleared her throat. “I, uh, probably don’t need to say this, but please don’t tell Brad about my search.”

  “You don’t. Not only would I never rat you out, but also I don’t hang out with or talk to Brad.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He made it more than clear he’s not interested.” That might not be entirely true, but he certainly wasn’t interested in trying to make a relationship work, which amounted to the same thing.

  “He’s crazy about you, Jenna. I don’t understand why you can’t see that.”

  “Uh, because he’s pretty explicitly let me know he doesn’t want to start anything with me.” That was true. And what had happened between them two weeks ago hadn’t been the start of something. It had been the end.

  Would he be at the bar tonight? Did she even want to see him?

  The way her heart raced at the thought of him being in the taproom tonight gave her the answer. Having a taste of what it would be like to be with Brad had not cured her of her crush. If anything, she was more thirsty than ever.

  Brad braced himself before pulling open the taproom door. He’d spent too many hours thinking about Jenna when he should have been focused on the training these last two weeks—one of many reasons he’d avoided involvement with her for years—and now he felt a rush of both excitement and dread as he entered her place of employment. There was no way she wouldn’t be working tonight. Training wrap nights were when the roadhouse did the most business. Charlie would have made an extra vat of salmon chowder, and Brad could smell the smoker and the grill going out back from a block away. Tonight, the restaurant would serve world-class smoked brisket, bison burgers, and, for the adventuresome visitors, Charlie’s homemade reindeer sausage and various cuts of moose.

  When the compound had first opened, the town of Tamarack made a lot of concessions, and in return, Raptor had agreed that trainees could visit town two or three times during a training, depending on the length of the session. In return, Charlie had agreed that when a training was in progress, attendees wouldn’t be served more than two drinks on a given night. Tonight, with the training behind them, the two-drink limit was off, and it would be something of a block-party atmosphere as Tamarack found ways to profit from the influx of trainees and the soldiers let off steam after a series of intense combat exercises.

  This ten-day session had included fifty-six Army soldiers from three different bases—forty-two men and fourteen women. They’d run multiple exercises in the shoot houses, practiced hostage rescue scenarios, roadside ambushes, and wilderness survival training. Forty-three of the attendees had signed up for the buses to Tamarack tonight, and the first load had arrived twenty minutes ago.

  The taproom was loud and happy. Brad spotted Jenna immediately. She wore a tight Tamarack Roadhouse T-shirt tied in a knot below her ribs to keep it from riding up and short cut-off jeans, leaving her flat midriff bare. Given how much she’d be running around tonight, the outfit would likely keep her cool, but it was no accident Jenna always wore her sexiest clothes on the last night of training. She relied on tips for the majority of her income, and three-quarters of her trainee customers were heterosexual men between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-five.

  Jenna was twenty-nine, beautiful, tall, and lithe. The shorts hugged her ass to perfection, and the tight top highlighted her slender, fit form. Brad had had his hands all over her perfect body two weeks ago, and like a dipshit, he’d let her go.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  He was a fool, that was for sure. But at the same time, it had been—and still was—the right thing to do.

  But damn, walking away from her had hurt. And it would hurt again when he left Tamarack for good.

  He headed for the table in the back corner where Hawk and Dev were already seated. Two other guys from Falcon—a Black man named Mace and a white man named Colin—had joined them tonight. Both men used to hang out with Brad and Hawk all the time, but after Vincent Dawson died, everything had changed. It was good to see them tonight. With Dev and Chase new to the team, they needed to rebuild the comradery.

  He doubted that would be possible with Godfrey in the picture. Another reason to get the guy removed from Raptor and/or the team before Brad left Tamarack for good.

  He walked through the room, pausing to high-five or pat the backs of a few trainees who’d stood out during the session. They called him “Chief” in deference to his rank in the Army, when he’d been a chief warrant officer and second-in-command of his Special Forces A-Team. “Mister” was the official address for a warrant officer, but the Army—unlike the Navy—allowed “chief” to be used as well.

  He reached the table filled with his Falcon brethren and dropped into an empty chair. He was a little disappointed to see a full pitcher and clean pint glasses on the table—meaning there was no reason for Jenna to stop by the table any time soon. He also would have his back to the room—the price of being last to arrive at a table filled with operatives. They all wanted their backs to the wall. And with a round table in the corner, three of them achieved it.

  “What’d I miss?” he asked the team.

  “That dick who messed up the hijacking scenario has already been kicked out for being disorderly,” Mace said. “And Jenna’s had two proposals already.”

  Brad wasn’t surprised by the disorderly ejection. That guy was trouble, and his commanding officer would read about it in Brad’s full report. He felt a slight twinge of jealousy at the second part, but that was par for the course on wrap nights. At least he could joke about it. “Poor Chase, he should have locked in her commitment when he had the chance.”

  Hawk took a slow pull of his beer, then said, “I was thinking the same thing—but not about Chase.”

  Brad met his gaze, but pretended not to understand.

  Coli
n looked over Brad’s shoulder, and he assumed his gaze followed Jenna. “Is Brad still acting like a damn fool when it comes to the lovely Jenna O’Donnell? What is wrong with you, man?”

  Hawk slowly smiled. “Now that, I don’t know—to both your questions. What’s the latest, Fraser? Did you finally come to your senses?”

  Yes. But also no.

  “Didn’t know I was going to be gossiping with a bunch of middle schoolers tonight.” He took a sip of his beer and wished it were something stronger. He reached into his pocket and fiddled with the gift he had for Jenna there, wondering how he would give it to her without the guys catching on.

  He didn’t want to just give it to her either. He wanted to surprise her.

  Good Lord, he was trying to figure out how to leave a secret gift for a girl in her locker. Who was the middle schooler now?

  Hawk gave him a speculative look, then glanced above Brad’s head, and his grin deepened.

  Brad could almost feel her coming up behind him. He felt her presence in the hum that started somewhere around his heart and radiated outward. He’d always felt a happy jolt when Jenna was near, but it was more pronounced tonight.

  She planted herself in the gap between Brad and Dev. The knot in her T-shirt was at Brad’s eye level, meaning her bare skin was just inches from his mouth.

  He hadn’t kissed her belly that night in the meadow. It had been too cold to strip her down, plus, without a condom, he didn’t want to risk temptation.

  Jesus, he finally gave in to a three-year-long aching need to touch her, and he’d taken her to a meadow after midnight and hadn’t even had a condom handy.

  Hard to believe he was in his midthirties and not fresh out of high school. He should have taken her to a hotel, since his place was out.

  He could bring her inside the compound’s main building, but there was paperwork involved. But then, the same was true for the motel, and she’d known the proprietor there since she was a baby.

  Small towns could really suck when it came to privacy.

  She held a small tray in one hand, loaded with five martini glasses filled with an amber liquid and a pineapple garnish. She cast her eyes down, giving him a furtive glance using just the corner of her eye. She met his gaze with the fleeting softness of a butterfly kiss. He caught the slight curve of her smile in profile. In a flash, he remembered how hot she’d looked with her eyes downcast as she took him deep in her throat. The way she’d purred at his touch. Heat flooded him.

  How and why had he let her go that night?

  “We’re trying something new tonight. Charlie and I thought it would be fun to treat Falcon team to a special cocktail on wrap nights. We wanted to go for something different you might not have tried before.” She doled out the drinks on her tray, setting one in front of each of them, serving him last. “Let me know what you think.

  They all lifted their glasses and took a sip. Brad’s had just reached his lips when Colin said, “That’s good. What’s it called?”

  “It’s a Jack-in-the-Box. You know, like, pop goes the weasel.”

  Brad nearly choked, and some of his drink might have spewed across the table.

  “Something wrong, Fraser?” Jenna asked with a grin.

  “Not at all,” he said, catching his breath. He grinned back at her, feeling a rush at her joke played out in front of the whole team. It hadn’t occurred to him that this secrecy could be so…fun. “Just wasn’t expecting brandy.”

  “Riiight…” she said, drawing out the word. “You all interested in something from the grill tonight? We’ve got the usual smoked brisket and Alaskan specialties.”

  “Any venison chili tonight?” Colin asked.

  “Yes, and salmon chowder.”

  “I’ll have a bowl of chili,” Colin said, followed by “Me too,” from Hawk and Mace. Dev ordered fish and chips, and finally Jenna’s full attention was focused on Brad.

  “Brisket and fry bread, please.” Brad would never pass up Charlie’s brisket, and one of the locals made the best fry bread this side of the Yukon. Alaska fry bread was different from what he’d had in the Lower 48 and was one of the things he’d miss most when he went south.

  “You got it,” Jenna said, with a smile that was only for him. He was damn glad she wasn’t pissed at him for the way he’d left things.

  After she left, Hawk’s gaze turned more questioning, and Brad had the distinct feeling he wasn’t putting on as good an act as he needed to.

  Mace leaned back in his chair and met Brad’s gaze, his mouth turned down. “Colin and I decided to come tonight because we knew Godfrey was taking Chase on some sort of snipe hunt. We’re worried about Chase, but the goddamn walls have ears inside the compound.”

  Mace wasn’t wrong there. There weren’t cameras or recording devices in any of the private quarters, but there were everywhere else, and it made it hard to speak freely about problematic coworkers like Godfrey.

  “Chase did great with the hand-to-hand combat training this week.” Brad was following the rule of saying two nice things before diving into the negative. But really, the only negative for Chase was his youth and inexperience. It was Godfrey who was the problem.

  Colin drummed his fingers on the table. “I should have seen what Godfrey was doing and offered to mentor Chase myself.”

  Hawk leaned forward. “What we need to figure out is how we get the asshole off Falcon.”

  But they’d been playing that game for months. The problem was, Godfrey’s record with Raptor was pristine. And he had a thick stack of positive feedback cards because the guy knew how to play the trainees. Build them up, make them feel good about themselves and, by extension, good about Godfrey.

  And the shit of it was, weren’t they all supposed to be making the trainees feel more confident and skilled?

  Maybe Godfrey really was an asset to the organization. Except the guy was narcissistic and awful when only the men sitting at this table were looking.

  “You know what? Just once, I want a night off,” Brad said. “That asshole isn’t here. And tonight we should be celebrating. I’ll talk to Nicole, and if she blows me off, I’ll contact Rav outside channels.” The owner of Raptor had always made it clear Brad could reach out to him directly. It would piss off Nicole, but Brad had one foot out the door anyway. He didn’t need to keep his direct supervisor happy, not with the increased offer he’d received from Apex just today.

  Brad could leave Tamarack tomorrow, and he’d make one and a half times what Raptor was paying him. He should have taken the job already. He asked himself for the ten thousandth time why he was still here.

  A few minutes later, Jenna arrived at their table with a tray laden with food. One look at her, and he knew why.

  Chapter 7

  So far, so good. She hadn’t melted at Brad’s feet and had somehow managed to play it cool. When the Oscar nominations were released next year, she would be pissed if she didn’t make the cut.

  Brad, however, wasn’t going to receive any prizes this coming award season. He was giving her smoldering looks, which, while pleasing in general, were not great for keeping dirty secrets.

  She paused in the kitchen before hoisting another large tray overloaded with food to her shoulder. She closed her eyes for just a moment and took a deep breath, remembering how it felt to be in his arms. To kiss him. To have his hands on her body.

  It had really happened. And it had been glorious.

  But two weeks had passed, and she had bills to pay and a taproom full of hungry and thirsty customers. She lifted the tray and grabbed the serving rack from the stack, then headed out into the main room. She pasted a smile on her face. This food was destined for a table of trainees she needed to watch out for.

  She dropped the rack next to the table and opened it with a flick of her wrist, then shifted to offload the heavy tray. She kept herself just out of reach of the table, as these were the kind of guys who wouldn’t hesitate to grab her ass.

  She quickly sorted their foods
and cleared their empty glasses. “Another round of drinks?” she asked, her tone friendly, but not too friendly.

  They ordered another round, and she moved on to the next table, making her way to the bar with the tray that was now loaded with dirty glasses. It would be nonstop like this for the next few hours. She dropped the drink orders on the bar at the same time she slid the tray of dirty glasses into the rack at the work station next to the bar for a busser to collect. She leaned against the wall of the alcove that surrounded the waitstaff cash register and credit card terminal. This small space was just feet from the crowd, but hidden from the main room by a phone-booth-style wall. She took a sip of a warm Coke she’d set back here an hour ago and then had been too busy to drink.

  The four men at table seven were liable to get handsy, but other than that, she’d be fine. Charlie always offered to bring on a second server on nights like tonight, but she refused because she really needed the tips—and she could handle it, given that the food menu was limited and the kitchen staff was always ready to pitch in and deliver food. She paid them tip share, so everyone was happy.

  She took a long slow breath to center herself. When she opened her eyes, her gaze landed on a small, carved wooden owl next to the credit card reader. The great horned owl was two inches tall and clearly hand carved. Her heart thumped against her sternum as she picked it up to study the craftmanship. She turned it over and felt blood rush to all the right places as she spotted two letters carved into the base: BF.

  Brad had carved her an owl and left it like an Easter egg for her to find.

  Well, if that didn’t give her an adrenaline rush to carry her through the evening, nothing would.