Armed And Dangerous (The McKinnon Legends - The McKinnon American Men Book 2) (12 page)

“I have on jeans. I should be fine. Put me down, Mase,” she argued. She did not want to feel him pressed to her for starters. Second issue was her leg.

“You either do it this way, or I’ll toss you over my shoulder, and I’m going to give you about three seconds to decide.” He was not fooling around with her, not on this. There were snakes, spiders, and scorpions out by now and she was vulnerable to the bites. He had developed immunity through time and experience and was not in danger, but she was.

“Fine, but I’ll have you know you would have a fight on your hands if you even tried to play the caveman,” she informed him with a light playful thump to his shoulder.

“Humph,” he grunted an answer back. She was probably overconfident and that could get her killed if she displayed that attitude at the wrong place and time.

However, she did not argue any further. She would continue to pick her battles with Mason. Besides, she was sore from the long jeep ride and her leg ached painfully. She was sporting a fairly nasty cut on her upper thigh courtesy of the rusty rattletrap they were driving. When they hit the pot hole and rolled, it tossed her into a jagged piece of metal on the door. She really needed stitches. However, where was that going to happen out in the middle of nowhere? She had done a quick dressing and hoped the jeans would hide the inconvenient truth, and that truth was that she was hurt, a fact she had kept to herself, lying to Mason in the process. Nevertheless, it was not stopping her one way or the other, and if he wanted to be her mode of transportation, then why not let him?

He never acknowledged her one way or the other as they trekked back to camp. Her arms wrapped around his neck felt good giving him a crazy feeling of taking care of her. It was a small thing, but one he was happy to do. She was a burden that he was beginning to tolerate with pleasure, and they were companionable. Something was definitely happening between them and the bickering was happening less often as the mission moved forward. He, for one, was feeling the need to poke the bear less and the need to kiss the Bride more.

“Mason, you can put me down now,” she said with an exasperated sigh. He had refused to drop her down at her request as they made their way back to the campsite. Why he continued to carry her on into the campsite was a mystery and just made her feel like child. Up the trail was one thing, this was another.

He took her to the jeep and let her step off onto the bumper and instead of offering her his hand to help her down, he stepped into her putting his arms around her waist. On impulse he let her slide down his body to the ground and did not let her go. Instead, he went in for a kiss almost taking her by surprise and would have except for the small hesitation just before his lips met hers.

Then she realized what he was doing. They were lovers just coming back from a few stolen moments together away from prying eyes. He had to finish it off with a grand finale and in public view.

It was all for show, he kept telling himself.

She slowly brought her arms up around his neck and returned his kiss. Unlike the kiss from the previous night, he was tender with her, slow and easy, and very seductive. She slowly opened her eyes and he was looking down at her. His look was guarded. His words were not.

“Umm. Nice. You have the most kissable mouth I have ever tasted.”

His compliment caught her off guard.

“Speaking of taste, I’m hungry,” she said covering her surprise.

He was thinking if he did not break this contact with her his hunger would not be for food. It had been several days since he had been with a woman and she was looking very tasty at the moment.

“Come on. Let’s go eat.” He took her hand and went to the fire where Enrique had created a decent meal considering the surroundings. The coffee smelled wonderful. The beans were extremely fresh and the aroma was heady. They ate in companionable silence letting the others carry the conversation.

She majored in linguistics at Kansas State and was fluent in Chinese, Japanese, Spanish, Portuguese, Russian, French, and Italian. She did not let anyone know, including Mason, she understood every word they said. Needless to say, the conversation was far from clean as the men traded rowdy barbs with Mason about the hot little piece he had saddled up with as his mate. Much to her surprise, he kept it much cleaner than she would have anticipated fully expecting him to tell stories just to have one-up bragging rights. Had she pegged him wrong as the type to kiss and tell? It was looking like she had misjudged him in several ways. Yet, the jury was still out where Mason was concerned.

All turned in early because daybreak would find them already on the river and miles away from this small spot in paradise.

Her sleeping roll was beside his as he crawled into the tent and then zipped up the flap. The tent was bug proof and there was generally no threat of creepy-crawlers getting into the bed rolls, so he took the cots out to give his big frame more room. She could not fault him. It just put them side by side with no room for personal space, and contrary to what she told him back at the resort, she actually had been sleeping alone for a while.

The last man she was involved with had somehow neglected to tell her one small detail: he was married and he had kept that fact secret for over a year. She was very cautious after that encounter. She did not allow anyone that close to her again. It had really played havoc with her moral compass and had also shaken her faith in a man being honest.

Mason listened to the night sounds of the jungle as the evening wore on. She was still awake. He could tell from her breathing.

“What college did you go to?” He ventured a question tossing out a test balloon. It was a safe question unlike the ones which he really wanted to ask.

“Kansas State,” she offered without hesitation.

“What was your major?”

She hesitated on this one. “Linguistics.”

Ahh, he thought, she did understand the conversation floating around the camp. He was glad that he kept the banter as clean as he did. He had to sleep next to her and a knife through his ribs would not have been a welcome byproduct.

“What about you?” She vaguely remembered he had graduated.

“Texas A & M. Did you know I have a double masters?” He was proud if that accomplishment for the first time. And she heard it in his voice.

“So,” she paused rolling over to face his. Her hunches were right. This man was not the village idiot after all, but a highly intelligent man capable of intense learning and follow-through. No one earns double masters degrees just by accident. It takes true commitment, something she had seen in him before with something he loved. “There are some brains in that head of yours after all.” She softly teased, knocking in his temple with her knuckle.

“Are you saying that all this time you thought, ‘he’s just a pretty face.’” Mason sighed dramatically completely comfortable with her for the first time. He felt no barriers, no walls, and total openness. He liked the feeling.

She laughed softly. “Mason, if eye candy was all I thought you were good for then you never would have stayed on the payroll, trust me.”

It was the first time, he thought of the fact she was his boss, and it was the first time she brought it up. He wondered how he felt about that.  Upon inspection, it did not bother him in the least. He knew his place in Barbara Allen’s world. That place was to keep her alive and get Jesse home. After that, who knew? He was contract labor. He could pick his assignments. So, in reality, he was still master of his own destiny. Fate was still his to control.

“You go by Allen. So, how does Bride come into the picture?” he asked after turning on his side and propping up on his elbow so that he could face her.

“Jeff,” she only said the first name of her ex-husband. She and Jeff had been college sweethearts. He divorced her, wanting a woman who was home and could cook and give him babies. It wasn’t happening for her. Not at that stage of her life, at least. She might consider it at some point with the right man. She figured Jeff had never been the right man for her.

“Jeff? You’ve been married to a dude?” he asked in surprise, smiling at this new twist.

She nodded. “Yeah, but obviously things didn’t stick.”

“Why?” Mason was curious. If she had been with a man before then maybe he might have a chance to persuade and seduce her. He was going to win his little challenge with Barbara. It was only a matter of time.

“He wanted a woman who would stay home and give him a family. I was a field operative, Mason. I was never home. You cannot build, much less keep, a relationship if there is never any time together. He found someone who better suited his needs.”

He felt her shrug. Her matter of fact tone did not fool him. Any woman would be hurt to know that she did not meet the needs of the man in her life, leaving him to hunt in more fertile pastures.

“Have you guys been divorced long?” he asked.

“Long enough. Good night, Mason.” She rolled over and gave him her back.

Okay, he thought, so he definitely hit on a nerve. He checked to see where the guns were before continuing. It was just a precautionary measure.

“You still love him?” he asked still propped up on his left elbow, dropping his palm on her hip. It was all she could do not to scream. He was resting on her gash and the fire was shooting through it with every touch of his hand.

She did not roll over although she did remove his hand. “No. He managed to destroy any remaining tender feelings I might have had left for him.”

“Divorce is never pretty,” Mason acknowledged. He saw what marriage and the subsequent divorce did to his brother, Chase. It was the reason he was a self-proclaimed bachelor.

She turned her head, but not her body to look at him. “The divorce was civil, Mase. It gave us both what we wanted. It was the infidelity before the divorce that was the killer for me.”

“You said it gave you what you wanted. Exactly what was it you were looking for once you realized Happy-Ever-After was not in the cards with him?” It was a very personal question, and he fully expected her to tell him to go to hell.

She rolled back over onto her back, propping herself up on both of her elbows looking at his face in the moonlight streaming through the tent opening. “You know, Mason, I should tell you it is none of your damn business and to bite me. However, since I can see you are asking me not to piss me off, but as a curiosity, I’ll tell you. I was looking for what every sentient being looks for -- love, comfort, belonging.”

“In other words you were looking for Happy-Ever-After. Chasing the impossible.” Mason wondered how anyone could look for something that really did not exist.

“Not impossible, but it has to be with someone I could trust. So guess what? I found Lula.” She was near tears, and she was not going to let him see that emotion. So giving him her back again, she dismissed the conversation.

“Oh, yeah, Lula. How could I have possibly forgotten her?”

He turned his back following her lead and through the night sounds, he faintly heard the sniffs.

“Damn it,” he cursed softly under his breath just before rolling over to hold her.

To his surprise, she let him.

Sometime in the night, Mason reached over to feel Barbara’s bedroll empty and the sheet cold to his touch. Panic surged through him. Nevertheless, years of experience had him fluent in the art of underreaction. He calmly tossed his bedroll back, reached for his gun, and eased cautiously out of the tent. Slipping on the night vision goggles, he quickly surveyed the compound area. If she were close, he would find her. Once he did, then he fully intended to completely overreact.

It took him only seconds to spot her. She was just feet from the tent. Moonlight bathed her as she slowly and gracefully executed the maneuvers of Thai Chi. Her movements were hypnotic. Easing over to her, he waited for her to finish before soundlessly coming up from behind, thinking to catch her by surprise. He wanted her to learn the consequences of being a woman outside at night, alone in a jungle of a third-world country. There were dangers far worse than him to be found. Those dangers were of the two, four, and eight legged kind.

She was totally aware of her surroundings and the fact he was within that scope.

“Don’t even think about it, Mason,” her softly spoken command surprised him as she stood silently with her back to him in the predawn light.

He wasn’t listening. That was his first mistake.

His second mistake? Touching her.

Grabbing her from behind the fight was on. He just discovered something about his partner in this hostage retrieval mission. She was deadly. Her abilities in close quarter combat were far from lacking. Giving him a run for his money, they were fast and furiously combating with each other. The contact was not light, but neither was it damaging. They were just playing with each other, each sizing up the other. It was a dance as seductive as the Tango to Mason as he swept her feet out from under her. She went down hard, but was right back up delivering a hard blow in the process.

“Nice move,” Mason complimented her.

“Like I said,” she was breathing hard, “the things I can do, you can only imagine.” She never missed a beat and the game continued.

“Show me,” he challenged.

He got her into a vice like hold, one that he found few could break. Lightning fast, she was free and he found himself with a knife to his throat.

“Concede?” she purred, breathing hard, her breasts touching him with every rise and fall.

He could not have been more turned on if she had danced erotically on stage and stripped for his eyes only.

“Never will I concede where you, my lovely wife, are concerned. I call your bluff. You don’t have it in you to hurt me, Doll.” He was gloating, up to a point, regardless of the fact she was the one holding the knife.

“Don’t tempt me, Mason. With you I walk a fine line of admiration and disgust. There is always a first time for everything,” she said nicking his skin.