Renegade: Special Tactical Units Devision (STUD) Book 3

by Sandra Marton

  “And that’s where we’re going?”

  He shook his head. “I figure it’s where they’ll expect us to go.” He touched his finger to the map and pointed north. “That’s Turkey. The map shows nothing between here and there and that’s correct. But I know a little about the area. No towns, true, but there are small farms, some sheep and goats.” Dec folded the map and stashed it in his pack. “There’s a road, a dirt road, just a few klicks ahead. Only the locals use it. It’ll take us to the Turkish border and to a small market town. I think that’s our best bet.”

  Annie sighed. “All this trouble because of me.”

  Dec took her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it.

  “Hey,” he said lightly, “the last time I was in this part of the world I spent three days in a ditch with two other guys. We got rained on each night, got baked to a crisp each day, and one of the guys had this, ah, this bowel problem…”

  Annie laughed, exactly as he’d hoped she would. He leaned forward and brushed his lips gently over hers.

  “Another two, three days at the most and we’ll be out of here.”

  “I just wish, you know, I wish I could turn back the clock, that we were on the beach at your place in Santa Barbara.”

  Dec put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “The best anybody can do is look back at the past, but you can write the future. We’re going to be on that beach again. Together.”

  “I hope.”

  “We will be. And you’ll give me a hard time about me not using sun screen, the way you always did, and I’ll insist I never burn, the way I always did, and when my nose turns bright red you’ll stick out your tongue and say See? I told you so!”

  She drew back a little and smiled. “I never said ‘I told you so!’”

  “No? Well, you should have.” He smiled back at her. Then he drew her close. “We’ll be together. We’ll be happy. And this time, it will last.”

  They sat that way for another couple of minutes. Then Annie stirred, raised her head and looked at him.

  “Declan. We have to talk.”

  “I agree. Tonight, after we find a safe place. We’ll talk them. I promise.”

  * * *

  They found the road—actually, it was a ribbon of packed-down dirt—and, as Dec had said it would, it took them north through an area that seemed almost unpopulated.

  They saw an occasional farmhouse, always in the distance and far from the road, and small, wandering herds of sheep and goats.

  The only person they saw was an old man with a horse and wagon, and the old guy was actually asleep, his chin on his chest, as the horse clopped slowly past.

  Whenever they paused for a break, Dec scanned the vast area all around them with his binoculars. So far, nobody was following them. He saw only more sheep, more goats, and, a couple of times, small herds of horses.

  “Kurdish,” Annie said.

  Dec shook his head. “We’re nowhere near Kurdistan.”

  “It’s the name of the breed. There are two kinds of horses in this part of the world. Arabians. And Kurdish. This guy we’re riding is probably Kurdish.” She patted the animal’s flank. “He’s big and strong. And handsome.”

  “Like me,” Dec said.

  Annie laughed. “Exactly like you.”

  The satphone still wasn’t working. Dec had no idea why. The phone itself seemed okay and it had never failed him before. He’d just have to work around it. Anyway, they’d eventually reach the border and the little market town where he’d find a phone and arrange for extraction the old fashioned way.

  The day began to wind down.

  Annie was worn out. Everything she’d experienced in the last several days had to be catching up. She hadn’t complained, but Dec recognized the signs. The last time they’d taken a break, he’d been startled at how pale she was, and how her hands trembled when she unwrapped an energy bar.

  She needed rest. Real rest. In a bed, with a roof over her head. And real food, or at least a hot MRE.

  The bottom line was that he had to find a place to spend the night and as dangerous as it might be to ride up to a farmhouse and ask for shelter, it would be even more dangerous to wait to do it until dark.

  Then, unexpectedly, their fortunes changed.

  Dec saw a structure far ahead, nestled in the curve of a low hill.

  What was it?

  He brought the binoculars to his eyes.

  The people who lived here were poor. The size of the farmhouses reflected that, but what he saw through the glasses was small even by local standards.

  Was it a shed for animals? No. It wasn’t big enough. Besides, if it housed living creatures, there’d have been a house nearby.

  Some sheep farmers, those with large herds, drove their animals here for summer grazing. Maybe this was where a shepherd would spend those months.

  Whatever it was, the little house seemed uninhabited.

  Well, there was only one way to find out.

  Annie, who had been drowsing against his back, jerked upright as he clucked softly to the horse and changed their direction.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s a house by that hill.” He held the binocular behind him so she could grab them. “See it? Way to the east? Tucked in so it’s barely visible?”

  “It’s tiny.”

  “Yeah. It looks empty. Maybe it’s a shepherd’s summer camp. I’m hoping it is.”

  They approached the structure slowly. When they got closer, Dec’s sense that nobody lived in it grew stronger. No smoke came from the chimney; weeds and grass grew tall around its perimeter and at the door.

  Still, he was cautious. Experience had taught him that it was always best to check things as much as you could instead of stumbling into trouble.

  He drew the horse to a halt. They slid from the saddle. She gave him the binoculars and he put them away, but when he held out the reins, she put her hands behind her back.

  “If you’re going in, so am I.”

  “Annie,” he said patiently, “we aren’t going to argue over this.”

  “You’re right. We won’t argue. I’m going with you and that’s that.”

  His princess was a weary, scruffy mess, but her tone was imperious. Despite himself, he grinned, reached for her and drew her to him

  “That’s that? Like, you’re setting the rules now?”

  She put her palms against his chest. “Like, we’re in this together. From now on, it’s a fifty-fifty deal.”

  Dec tilted her head up. “A fifty-fifty deal, huh? What makes you think I’ll agree to that?”

  “You’ll agree because you’re a sensible man.” Annie rose to him and kissed him. “And you know I’m right. Two of us should make this approach.”

  Dec sighed. She was right, but he wasn’t about to risk her life.

  “Honey. The thing is, the place looks deserted—but someone might be inside. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “Neither do I.” She stepped back and held out her hand. “Which is why you’re going to give me that Glock.” When he didn’t answer, she shook her head with impatience. “I didn’t shoot myself in the foot with it last night, did I? Stop being so macho-stubborn and give me the gun!”

  Macho-stubborn? Him? He wasn’t. But it was true that even as upset as she’d been last night, she’d handled the Glock with the respect the weapon deserved.

  Dec sighed, took the gun from its holster and handed it to her.

  “Okay,” he said briskly. “Stay behind me. And that’s not up for discussion. Stay behind me, or stay behind.”

  Annie nodded. “Aye aye, Lieutenant.”

  Dec flashed a quick smile. “I like that attitude, Princess. Hang onto it until later.”

  She smiled back at him. Then his expression changed; he shifted his automatic rifle from his shoulder and cradled it in his arms as he crouched and began angling towards the house.

  Annie fell in behind him.

>   She knew his method of approach was to keep them from being easy targets. And she did know something about guns. Her father had taken her target shooting.

  “A woman should be able to do anything a man can do,” he’d said.

  She wondered what her father would say if he could see her now. That she was running for her life would surely have broken his heart, but she hoped he would be proud of her for being strong.

  What she knew was that her strength came from Declan.

  Anything might happen in the next few minutes and though she could feel her heart hammering in her chest, she wasn’t afraid.

  Her courage had been slipping away until he’d found her. No. Not her courage, exactly. What she’d been losing had been the will to go on. Declan had changed that. He’d reminded her that there was still a reason to hope.

  She would not give that up again.

  When they were almost at the house, Declan held up his hand.

  “Wait here,” he said softly. “Arguing could cost us our lives. Understood?”

  “Understood,” she whispered.

  She watched as he crossed the last few feet. There was one window set in the front wall. When he reached it, he straightened up just enough to peer through it. Then he slid around the corner. She knew he was searching for other windows, other doors, and she waited for what seemed forever until the front door opened and revealed Declan, who flashed her a thumb’s up.

  “Two doors,” he said as she hurried towards him, “one in front, one in back, and wait until you see the rest. All the comforts of home.”

  * * *

  He was right.

  Compared to the cave, this little house was—it made her smile to think it—a palace.

  Sheepskin rugs on the floor. A bed layered with soft wool blankets. A big fireplace and a stack of firewood. A camping stove, a camping lantern, a big tin of kerosene—and three shelves filled with cans and cartons of food.

  Annie clapped her hands with delight. “What more could we ask for?”

  “An outhouse,” Declan said. “A well. A lean-to for the horse complete with a couple of sacks of feed and a watering trough. And guess what? We have all that right out back.”

  She gave an elaborate sigh. “Me first for the outhouse.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay with that? I checked. There’s nothing living inside it, but it’s not exactly paradise.”

  “I bet you think I’ve never used an outhouse before.”

  He looked up from the gear he was unpacking. “A buck says I’m right.”

  “Okay. I owe you a dollar—but an outhouse has to be better than squatting in the grass.”

  Declan tried not to laugh. “You are,” he said solemnly, “what my old man would call a straight-talking woman.”

  “And you are,” Annie said, just as solemnly, “what mine would have called a hero.”

  Dec’s smile faded. “I’m no hero, honey. I’m just a soldier.”

  She went up to him, rose on her toes and kissed his cheek.

  “A soldier would have put me on that helicopter. You didn’t, even though you’re probably going to face hell for that decision.” She looked into his eyes. “I owe you some answers, Declan, and I’m going to give them to you.”

  Dec took her hands in his and brought them to his chest.

  “First things first,” he said quietly. “A hot meal. A hot drink. Maybe we’ll even clean up a little.” He touched his hand to her cheek and smiled. “Although I have to admit, I’m getting kind of fond of one or two of these dirt streaks.”

  She smiled back at him. She knew what he was doing—giving her time to get herself together, to work up to what he sensed was going to be a story as hard for her to tell as for him to hear.

  “There are salons in Paris that would charge a fortune to paint streaks like these on my face. But you’re right. We’ll clean up, then open a couple of cans and boxes of whatever this stuff is.” She rolled her eyes. “And I’m about to discover the charms of outdoor plumbing.”

  * * *

  It seemed that Declan was wrong.

  There was something living in the outhouse—a spider that should have been wearing a collar and leash—but Annie figured as long as it kept to its side of an invisible line and she kept to hers, they could co-exist.

  Just having the bare trappings of civilization energized her.

  A little while ago, she’d been too tired to think.

  Now, she felt renewed. Restored. Humming softly, she washed her hands at the well. Then she went back to the shepherd’s hut and shut the door behind her.

  Declan had a fire going on the hearth, a huge bucket of water heating on the grate, and a big oval basin drawn up before it. He was crouched before the fire, tending it.

  He was barefoot and shirtless, wearing only his camos.

  The firelight played over him, illuminating his wide shoulders and muscled back.

  There was a long scar low on his spine.

  Annie felt a sudden sweet ache low in her belly.

  She wanted to go to him and kiss the scar, kiss every part of him.

  “Declan?” she said softly.

  He rose to his feet and turned towards her. Her heart thudded. He was beautiful. His face was the essence of masculine strength and power. So was his body. Every part of him proclaimed him to be a proud warrior who had faced his enemies, fought them and won.

  She realized she hadn’t ever really seen him naked.

  The light had been poor last night and though she’d felt every powerful inch of him against her, she’d learned the contours of his body mostly by touch.

  She’d often slept in his arms in California, but he’d always kept on a T-shirt and board shorts. For her sake, she knew. And though he’d been shirtless on the beach, that didn’t count.

  They hadn’t been lovers then.

  Now they were, and she couldn’t stop looking at him.

  The muscled arms. The taut pectorals. The dog tags glinting against the line of dark hair that traveled down his chest, over those washboard abs to his camos.

  His unbuttoned camos, riding low on his hips.

  Her mouth went dry. Her gaze swept back to his face. He was watching her through narrowed eyes the color of night.

  “Anoushka,” he said, and for the first time since the deaths of her parents, her given name sounded as if it truly belonged to her. “I heated some water. I thought we might wash up before we eat.”

  She nodded. “Yes. Of course. Wash up…”

  Slowly, he began walking towards her. He stopped only inches away. She could feel the heat of the fire, the heat of his body, the heat of desire burning inside her

  “We should do a lot of things—but, baby, if I don’t get inside you right now, I’m going to die.”

  His blunt words sent a shock of electricity racing from her breasts to her belly. In an instant, she was hot and wet, and when he reached for her, she threw herself into his arms, sobbing his name, eager for his kiss, his touch, his possession.

  He thrust his hand into her hair and cupped the back of her head and then he took her mouth, not gently, not asking. He claimed her with his lips, his teeth, his tongue, and it was exactly what she wanted.

  He bent down in front of her, unlaced her boots. She stepped out of them. Then he rose to his feet and tore her sweater over her head, undid her camo pants and shoved them and her panties to her ankles. His hands were hard and fast; so was his breathing, and yes, this was how she wanted him, now, right now, no preliminaries, no gentle explorations, she wanted him to take her and make her fly.

  “Jesus Christ,” he said thickly. “Annie. Anoushka. I can’t wait…”

  He lifted her. Carried her to the narrow bed piled high with soft blankets. Tumbled onto it with her. She sobbed his name, reached up to him as he kicked off his pants and then he was inside her, deep inside her; her body lifted to his and her cry of immediate release was all he needed to let go and explode within her.

  “Annie,” h
e said, “Annie, I love you.”

  She wound her arms around him, drew him down against her, and wept with joy.

  CHAPTER TEN

  They stayed that way for a long, long time, Dec’s arms hard around Annie, hers around him, hearts drumming against each other, then slowing, slowing, slowing until, gradually, reality returned.

  Dec rolled to his side with Annie still in his arms. He kissed her throat. Softly. Tenderly.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. Some day, in some century, she would be able to form words—but not quite yet.

  “I didn’t mean to be so—”

  She pressed a kiss to his mouth. She felt… Boneless. Breathless. And exhausted. So perfectly, happily exhausted…

  “Hey.” He nuzzled aside a strand of her hair and gently bit her shoulder. “No falling asleep, woman. First you need something to eat.”

  “Mmm.”

  “And all that water’s gonna boil away to nothing.”

  She snuggled closer. “Mmm.”

  “If it does, I might just make you go out to the well to get more.”

  Annie gave a dramatic sigh. “You’re a hard man, Sanchez.”

  Dec wiggled his eyebrows. “I certainly hope so.”

  She laughed. He smiled, kissed her again, and sat up. “Come on. We’ll do a quick wash-up and then I’ll make us my world-famous Chef’s Special.”

  “Which is?” she said, letting him draw her up beside him.

  “Which is whatever’s in a couple of those boxes and cans. How’s that sound?”

  Annie’s stomach rumbled. Declan chuckled. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  He filled the basin by the fireplace with warm water. Then he led her to it. Annie stepped in and reached for a big bar of soap.

  Dec took it from her.

  “Lieutenant Sanchez at your service, my lady. Shampoo first?”

  “Lovely,” she sighed.

  He washed her hair. Rinsed it. She almost purred with pleasure.

  Next, he bathed her… Except there had to be a better word for what your lover did when he stroked you from head to toe with a soapy cloth, lingering in all the places only a lover would know.

  “Not fair,” she whispered, when he cupped her breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers.