Tempting the Fire (5 page)

“That was a stupid move,” Logan growled into her hair.

“Bite me.”

Teeth caught her lobe. The son of a bitch actually bit her.

“Lesson number one,” he said. “Don’t ever say anything to me you don’t mean.”

“Fuck you,” she spat into the dirt. “And I do mean that.”

“As an offer?” He ground his pelvis against her—and did he …? Yes, he 27

did. He had an erection. Maybe the vibrator had put some ideas in his head.

That, or the month in a jungle with no woman.

“As in, go to hell.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Sweetheart, I’m on my way.”

He shifted his weight, taking pressure off her shoulder, which was throbbing.

“Now, do you promise to be good?”

“Oh, yes,” she said sweetly. “Absolutely. You’ve totally cowed me.”

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” He yanked her arms behind her back, and she gritted her teeth against the pain in her joint. “You left your lover alone with a bunch of armed, horny guys.”

“I panicked.” She winced as he secured her wrists with flex-cuffs. “Is she okay?”

“Dunno. Maybe if you’d shut your trap, you could hear her scream.”

She roared with anger, which wasn’t entirely feigned. “You fuck! If you hurt her—”

“You’ll what?” He rolled her over so she could look into his deceptively handsome face. Deceptive, because behind his mossy eyes and beneath his tan skin, he was a monster who was in bed with Itor. “Seems to me you don’t have a lot of room to make threats.”

Distant memories ran through her head, sad ones, of her puppy, Max, being hit by a car, of her best childhood friend, Misty, moving away. Of her mom, in the hospital, dying. Tears sprang to her eyes, just the way she needed them to.

“You’re right,” she rasped. “I’m sorry. Don’t hurt Marlena. Please.”

Something in Logan’s face softened, just for a moment. Maybe he was human in there somewhere. With the backs of his fingers, he brushed away the dirt clinging to her cheeks.

“What’s your name?” When she said nothing, he sighed. “You’ll find that cooperating will go a long way with me.”

“Fine,” she bit out. “It’s Sela.”

“See? That didn’t hurt, did it?” He pushed to his feet, giving her the opportunity she needed.

Rolling, she swung her legs out, caught him in the knees … and he went down like a log. Granted, he was up again in a heartbeat, snarling with fury, but still, it felt good to give him a good whack.

“You can’t help it, can you?” he snapped. “You keep doing stupid things.”

“You keep pissing me off!”

He blinked. And then he laughed, and good Lord, the man was drop-dead, fucking gorgeous when he did that.

“Come on.” He grasped her by the forearms—keeping out of the way of her legs—and yanked her to her feet.

The pain in her shoulder was like an arrow of fire, and she sucked in air.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows drawn, almost as if he was truly concerned.

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“Nothing,” she said through clenched teeth.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but after a moment, he shrugged. “If you’re too stubborn to ask for help, you’ll suffer.”

“Asshole,” she muttered.

He smiled and pushed her into motion ahead of him, but this time, he wasn’t rough with her, was actually careful not to touch her injured shoulder. He probably wanted it to start feeling better so he could poke her there later.

She started walking back the way she came, which wasn’t easy, given that her arms were wrenched behind her back. “We’re not lovers.”

“What?”

“Marlena. Me. We’re not sleeping together. I mean, we’d planned to be out in the jungle for a while, so, you know … big deal if she wanted to bring a toy with her.” She stepped awkwardly over a log, jerked away from Logan when his hand shot out to help her.

“Hey, I’m all for a woman enjoying toys.”

Hopefully he was picturing Marlena with the vibrator right now. “Well,”

she said, “my point is that we’re not together. We like men.”

“Is that right?”

Sela shot him a glare over her shoulder. “Some men. The kind who don’t hold us at gunpoint.”

“Huh.” Suddenly, he was against her, his chest to her back, his arm around her waist. “Good to know.” His hot breath fanned her ear, and a shiver of feminine appreciation, which was utterly inappropriate given who he was and the situation she was in, skated over her skin. “That’s very good to know.”

She broke away from him, her heart pounding, her breath coming in gasps.

She’d gone into this mission knowing it would be dangerous. Terrifying.

But this man was going to chew Marlena up and spit her out.

God, she hoped Dev knew what he was doing, because she was starting to think they were in way over their heads.

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Every man’s eyes were on her as Dax walked her through the camp. When Marlena was a teen, the attention had made her cringe, but now, at twenty-nine, she’d long ago grown to accept it and use it to her advantage.

Except this one would be tricky. She’d have to play good little prisoner and try to wind every man in the camp around her finger, since Logan wasn’t playing along. And then she needed to make Logan play along, since Sela hadn’t looked at all happy to be left alone with him back at the big tent near the camp entrance.

Marlena would have to find a way to bond with him, and fast. Many of the men she worked with at ACRO were former military—the one thing they had in common was an inherent need to keep the women who surrounded them safe; she could only hope Logan and the rest of his men reacted the same.

But despite the fact that Dax couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling over her body, he easily handed her off to a man he referred to as Shep. “Cuff her to a cot in the medical tent. Lo’s orders.”

Shep nodded and took her firmly in hand. Sheesh, you’d think that men who’d been in the jungle this long would want to do nothing but rip her clothes off. But no, these men were all far too focused on the chupacabra—she could almost smell their focus, and had to admire them. Would admire them more if it didn’t interfere with her job, of course.

Shep was walking fast—too fast for her to put the extra sway in her step or to maintain any kind of effective conversation. But the lack of talk gave her a chance to study her surroundings.

The camp was compact, a tent city comprising a couple dozen small tents—

personal tents for the guys, she guessed—and three larger, sturdier ones, identified by ACRO intelligence experts who studied satellite photos to probably be central command, a medical tent and a supply/research tent. Vehicles were parked along the perimeter of the camp.

She turned to Shep as they reached the door of the medical tent, made her voice sound breathy, as if she wasn’t used to these conditions. “Shep, listen …

will you stay with me? I’m a little scared to be here all alone.”

It was her helpless act—and she knew it was damned good.

As Devlin’s assistant, she’d been in shape, but now, as a Seducer, she was transformed. She was completely, utterly lethal, her body a mix of fine muscle and curved perfection. The job required her to be pampered on her off time. Massages.

Body wraps. The highest-quality sheets, towels and loungewear. Exercise and the best food known to man, cooked to her personal specifications.

Shep cocked a brow. “Sweetheart, I’m a busy guy. Don’t have time to 30

babysit. Besides, you won’t be alone.” He pushed her roughly.

She stumbled into the tent and noted that, as Shep promised, she wasn’t alone. But she’d never expected to find a man so … beautiful sitting there. Even bruised and battered, she could see the lean chisel of his cheekbone, the full mouth, the square jaw.

He was utterly and completely naked—tall and tanned, and there, along his side, she saw them. Bite marks. Well on their way to being healed, but there was no mistaking them.

She scanned the floor and the small table and saw what she was looking for

—dog tags. She couldn’t read them, but she’d bet anything this man was part of the SEAL team that had been attacked. The search-and-rescue teams had been unable to locate one man, and she had a feeling she just had.

The bites were large, surrounded by deep bruises, but they appeared to be healing and not infected. He must’ve been here a while, receiving medical attention.

She wondered if he could describe what had nearly killed him.

Shep pushed her forward again, and she moved toward the double bunk, across the room from where the man was chained to the floor by one ankle.

Roughly, Shep took her wrists and with a three-foot length of chain cuffed them to a bunk so she could sit, lie down or stand.

She drew a breath, realized the air felt … heavy. As if she was moving through a thick fog, and yet somehow her blood ran hot, the sudden arousal startling her.

Shep completely ignored the man. In turn, the wounded man ignored her and instead watched Shep intensely. Studying him. Looking for weaknesses.

Assessing his prey.

An involuntary shiver ran through her, because she felt the danger radiating from the naked man. And because it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant feeling.

“Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” Shep told her, before laughing at his own stupid joke on his way out of the tent.

As soon as Shep was gone, the man started tugging on his chain.

This man—whoever he was—was as much a prisoner as she was.

She spoke first, when it became obvious he was just as happy to pretend she didn’t exist. “I’m Marlena.”

“Good for you,” he muttered without so much as looking at her. “I’m Chance.”

His voice vibrated through her like a rough touch. She wondered what his hands would feel like on her body.

What was happening to her? “They’re keeping me prisoner too. Why are they keeping you here? Maybe if we work together—”

“You’re not going to try that scared shit on me, are you? Because if it didn’t work on a half-wit like Shep, no way in hell it’s working on me.”

The problem was, it was working on her.

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Most times, it was all an act. This was not one of them. No, she wanted to rip off all her clothes, and it had nothing to do with the jungle heat. She wanted to give herself to him.

He wanted her too—as detached as he tried to act, there was no hiding the arousal that grew, jutting up impressively toward his abs.

There was nothing he could do to hide it.

She dragged her eyes up to his face. “You don’t believe I’m here against my will?”

Finally, Chance glanced at her, raking her over with a gaze so hot she felt blood rush to her cheeks. “I’ve got problems of my own. I’m not really in rescue-the-damsel-in-distress mode. I’m calling bullshit on your being helpless anyway.”

He seemed not to care that he was completely naked and exposed as he yanked on his chain, unaware that his body, despite the bruising, looked impossibly perfect.

A body made so by hard work—real work, not simply hours spent in a gym.

But who was he?

She’d never wanted someone so much in her life. It was like pheromones gone wild. “Maybe I can help?”

He shook his head. “Unless you’ve got a blowtorch on you, forget it.”

Her body felt like it radiated that kind of heat, especially as she watched his hands continue to work. Large, strong hands. Capable.

The things those hands could do to her …

Dammit. She forced herself to look away from him. She was supposed to make men feel like this—wild and out of control.

Focus, Marlena. Ask questions. Get intel. Do your goddamned job.

She shifted, the wet heat between her legs suddenly unbearable.

She was swiftly losing any semblance of control. What was worse, she didn’t care.

CHANCE WAS CHANGING. GROWING STRONGER. AND WHILE

he’d always been in damned good shape, what was happening to him was something altogether different and well beyond the quick healing he was used to.

He couldn’t worry about it now, would simply use it to his advantage. Had to get the hell out of this camp and back to civilization and so he’d played along with the doctors, pretending he was down and out, all the while his senses of smell and hearing surprising the shit out of him.

If he concentrated, he could hear people talking anywhere in the camp—

and although conversations jumbled together, he could still make out a few things.

Like who Logan was. About Global Weapons Corporation.

The fact that these men were out looking for the monster that had killed his team.

And while that alone should’ve made Chance feel like he’d been saved by the good guys, a large part of him was really uneasy with the entire situation.

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The chains didn’t help make him any more comfortable.

“Hey, maybe we could put our heads together and come up with a plan.”

Marlena was still talking. Jesus, the gorgeous talking woman was a huge freakin’

distraction.

He’d known they were bringing her in too—he’d caught the scent of her.

Caught the scent. What the hell? Was he part fucking bloodhound now? It hadn’t been that long since he’d had sex …

Or had it?

Forcing himself to ignore the beautiful woman chained fifteen feet from him for a few seconds, he stared at the metal cuff and the bunk and he tugged …

and felt the chain give. He put a little more muscle into it, and the metal began to separate along the chain links until one finally snapped.

“What the hell—are you like Superman?” Marlena stared between the chain and him, and really, he wasn’t sure how to answer that.

Right now, he sure felt like Superman.

Swiftly, he was on her, pinning her to the cot. “Who are you and why did they put you in this tent with me?”

“Get your hands off me or—”

“Or what? You’ll call that asshole Shep, whose dick you just tried to wrap around your finger?” He snorted even as she struggled with both her chain and him. “You’re not fooling me. You’re in the jungle with another woman. Two women, alone in the Amazon. Random scientists don’t do shit like that. They have teams.”