The Killing Game (16 page)

***

When she woke she was staring straight into the startling cobalt eyes of Sergeant Tyrone Dempsey. He looked like he’d wait all day for her to wake up.

“I must be dreaming,” she croaked.

He held out a mug of black tea.

“Definitely dreaming.” She sat up, took it, and sipped. The warm liquid eased her dry throat. “Thanks. What time is it?”

“0600.” His voice rolled over her. She blinked groggily. There was enough of a burr in his accent to make his voice very sexy and she figured he was laying on the charm this morning.

His face was scrubbed and clean-shaven. She found herself studying his features. The vivid eyes shaded by thick brows, the cheeks scraped smooth, the jaw firm and obstinate, his nose too flat to be conventionally handsome. Yet the combination stirred up her insides like hot coals. She fought the urge run her fingers through his short blond hair. He was tall and lean and he looked really, really good.

She did not like the whip of attraction that shot through her veins when those blue eyes twinkled. Damn. She needed distance, not attraction. “I was a bitch yesterday.”

“Is that an apology?”

“More of a reminder.” Reluctantly one side of her mouth curled. “But it’s probably as close as you’re going to get to an apology.” She squinted at him. The lines around his eyes were cut deeper today. Had he slept? Or had he been up all night searching for the man he was chasing? The same man killing her leopards.

“My CO has been in contact with your bosses at the Trust. I’ve been ordered to use any means possible to apprehend this individual.”

Fury engulfed her, but he moved into her space, sitting down on the edge of the bunk and trapping her in her sleeping bag. “So I’d like to propose a compromise.” His expression remained even but lines around his eyes creased as she tried to spit out words. He reached out and removed the mug from her hand. “I’m going to put this over here in case you get any ideas.”

The brush of his fingers against hers caused all sorts of fireworks to explode inside her that had nothing to do with anger. The man knocked her off-balance, made her crazy.
More
crazy
, she conceded as she forced herself to get a grip. “What sort of compromise?”

“I’ve called for more men and equipment so we can start tracking our target properly. In the meantime, we’ll split up and stake out the cats using the signals and”—he raised his voice as she tried to cut in—“we will help you release any animals you snare.”

The sudden silence pulsed against the walls of the tent. “You’ll let me uncollar them?”

“Yes.”

They held each other’s gaze for a long silent moment. “Why? Why not force me to leave them collared until you catch this guy?”

One side of his mouth dragged back in a wry smile before he answered. “You’re not the only person in the world who gives a damn about endangered species, Dr. Dehn.
However
, capturing this man is my mission and the mission is my priority. Otherwise I wouldn’t be a very good soldier”—his eyebrows rose—“now, would I?”

He stood and walked to the door of her yurt.

She was back to being Dr. Dehn, she registered. “And that’s really important to you. Being a good soldier?”

He paused inside the tent with his hand on the felt. “Maybe it’s all I’ve got.”

“Sergeant…” A slice of pain at saying the military rank out loud made her suck in a breath. “
Dempsey
,” she said urgently to stop him from leaving.

He looked over his shoulder, the sun coating his silhouette with gold.

“Thank you.” She held his gaze, willing him to understand what his gesture meant to her.

He grinned, blue eyes flashing as they swept over her disheveled form, reminding her that while he might be a soldier he was most definitely a guy. “You can thank me when this is over.” Then he was gone.

***

A beep told Axelle she’d got email. When she checked the message every other thought fled as she realized she had a download from one of her camera traps.

“Dempsey!” she yelled.

There were six hidden cameras set up in three pairs around the mountains. Placed in obscure valleys and passes to try to avoid people, and more important in this region, goats, from triggering them. No one wanted five hundred pictures of goats. The camera images automatically uploaded to satellites whenever the data storage units were full and then were emailed to her server in the States. Dempsey came inside and walked over to her side. She clicked on the first image and they watched as, pixel by pixel, a photograph of a white-haired man leading a yak downloaded to the screen. He was dressed as a local. The pants, the jerkin, the pakol hat. His build was tall, slim, broad at the shoulder, but his facial features were not Asian or Arabian. He looked fair-skinned, his beard as red as Josef’s, his eyes iced with lines of bitterness.

She sat stunned, her eyes taking in every detail of the man’s face, looking for some whisper of compassion in the deep rugged lines on his face. Strapped over the back of the yak was a rolled-up pelt with a trimming of dappled fur, over his shoulder was a high-powered hunting rifle. Fear and fury swirled in the depths of her stomach. This was the hunter. To put a face on this monster made everything more real, more dangerous. “Sonofabitch,” she whispered. “Is this who you’re looking for?”

Dempsey leaned over her, trapping her between his arms as his fingers typed furiously. He pulled up some sort of secure website and uploaded the image into the database. She could feel his breath on her neck, his lips close to her ear. She shivered. He smelled of clean warm skin and the Ivory soap that they kept in their improvised shower cubicle. His hands were square, the fingers long and tapered. Small hairs shone white gold on his wrist and forearms. Every cell in her body was acutely aware of this man.

He finished, cleared the history, shut down the web browser, and went perfectly still as if he suddenly realized his arms were around her. Or maybe he could tell the effect he was having on her nervous system. His breathing changed and heat began to build in Axelle’s veins. She turned her head a fraction and found her lips an inch from his. They held each other’s gaze warily, a wave of something startling shooting through her body. Dempsey’s gaze dropped to her mouth and her lips parted. He started to lean toward her, but a noise outside made him break away, leaving her to grab a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“I’ll get the guys ready to go.” His voice was gruff and he avoided looking at her.

She nodded. She couldn’t have formed words for three wishes and a genie.

CHAPTER 8

He split them into three groups.

“Can’t I go with the doc?” Cullen moaned. He might have the reputation of being the ladies’ man of A-Squadron’s Mountain Troop, but after what Dempsey had been thinking five minutes earlier while trying not to kiss Axelle Dehn’s lips, legs, and everything in between, maybe he was a frickin’ ladies’ man too.

He wanted her and he’d let his eyes tell her exactly how much he wanted her.

What was he thinking? There was a time and a place for that sort of thing and this wasn’t it.

“No.” He kept his voice light. None of them were here to get laid. “You’re with Taz. Baxter you go with the Great Dane. I’m with the doc.” He gave them a firm smile that told them this wasn’t up for debate. “We’ll get the biologists to give us a demo how to tranq and release the cats before we head out. I want hourly radio checks.” He nodded to the men. “It might be a couple of days until the other guys get here. I’m still waiting on a rendezvous time. In the meantime, we watch the leopards and hope we capture our target while he’s trying to poach the cats.”

“Cool,” Taz said.

Baxter was beaming.

Protecting snow leopards was a plum assignment, as long as they didn’t forget the very real threat out there—someone who knew his way around explosives the same way the boys knew their own dicks.

“Keep your eyes peeled.” He turned as Axelle came out of her yurt. She’d braided her hair and wore clean clothes—olive pants, stone-colored fleece. Except for her scrubbed-clean pink cheeks and dark eyes, she blended right into the landscape.

She looked at them and they all stared right back at her.

“You’ve eaten?” She raised her voice across the dusty arena. She looked as if she didn’t want to approach them, as if by keeping her distance all her problems would disappear.

If only.

Each man nodded. He could tell she’d captured their interest the same way she’d captured his. They rarely dealt with women in their jobs. He liked it. Figured they did too.

She ducked back into the bigger tent. Josef came out a second later with the two cubs in his arms. The guys went over and started playing with the balls of fluff, pulling out their cameras to take photos. He held back a smile. Three of the toughest soldiers on earth, turning into big softies because of a couple of pussy cats.

“We need a demo of how you tranquilize the leopards and detach the collars,” he said when the student stood.

The Dane nodded. Not exactly friendly. Not exactly hostile.

Axelle came out of the tent and headed over to the horses. Dempsey saw a change in the student’s expression. A microsecond of yearning burned across the man’s features before he masked it again. Josef caught his eye and the two men regarded each other with absolute understanding.

“You’re with Baxter—the short ugly bugger, rolling around on the floor.”

The Dane huffed out a gruff laugh. “You’re with Axelle, I suppose?”

Dempsey nodded.

“Keep her safe. And keep your hands off her.”

Cullen glanced at him. Dempsey swore with impatience. He wasn’t on a Club Med vacation. He was on a mission. “Look, Josef. She can barely stand the sight of me. I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about, right, pal?”

Hell, he’d be gone in a day or two and that pissed him off. For the first time he wanted this mission to last longer. Maybe a few weeks would give him the chance to get to know Axelle Dehn better. A
lot
better. But she didn’t want to know him at all. She just wanted to save her leopards.

Josef scratched his neck. “You remind her of her husband.”

“Husband?” Dempsey had to work hard not to choke.
She’s married?

Josef nodded. “He was a soldier. Died in Iraq years ago.”

Relief mixed with guilt.
Poor bugger
. It explained her antipathy toward soldiers. Maybe she blamed the military as a whole for her loss. Or maybe, like any sane person, she hated war.

They watched her lead two horses across the dusty ground and stop a few feet away. A tiny frown marred her forehead as if she sensed they’d been talking about her.

“Who’s coming with me?” she asked.

“I am.” Dempsey took a step closer and her gaze flicked over him. He felt his cheeks burn and knew the lads noticed it, too. Why the hell had he wanted to stick close to the woman? Because he thought he could handle her? It’d be easier to handle a live grenade.

She thrust a pair of reins at Josef. Then she handed out sheets of paper to everyone, which made him grin. “We only have two receivers and one always stays in base camp.” He and Cullen exchanged a quick glance.
Yeah. Right
. She pointed to the markings she’d made on the maps she’d printed out. “These are the coordinates of the snares Josef and I set up.”

There were several crosses on the map, some close together. All in valleys.

“You and your partner take this zone to the northwest.” She gestured to Cullen, who gave her his film-star grin. Dempsey stood behind Axelle and cocked a brow at the soldier. “The next group takes the snares east. Dempsey and I will head southeast again. I’ll show you how the collars work and how to tranquilize the animals without harming them. Radio in if something unexpected occurs. Any questions?” She stared them each in the eye like the Commander of the Regiment and it was all he could do not to salute.

“No, ma’am.”

Dempsey saw the suppressed grins and knew they were all thinking the same thing—she was something else. He stopped listening and just watched her demonstrate the tranqs as the cubs played with her bootlaces. He already knew how they worked. He and Josef held the horses, the lads watching her every move.

“Does she have this affect on everyone?” he murmured to the Dane.

Josef nodded and tightened the horse’s saddle girth. “Pretty much.” He looked resigned.

“She’s young to be in charge of a project this big,” Dempsey noted. Although the setup looked basic, this sort of operation inside a theatre of war would cost a fortune.

The big man shrugged. “She’s the top researcher in her field. Had a featured article on her in
National Geographic
a couple of months ago.”

Dempsey raised his brows. “I guess that explains why she’s so bossy.” Just then she turned to face him.

“Are you ready to go yet, or do you need to fix your makeup?” he asked.

The lads grinned.

A hint of scarlet brushed her cheek as her eyes narrowed dangerously. She knew he was baiting her. Thankfully she just huffed out a breath. “They need to know this stuff.”

He tapped his watch. “We need to get moving.”

She looked at her newest recruits. “Is he always such a jerk?”

“Yes, ma’am.” They all nodded in unison, the pride of the British Army. “He’s a total fucking jerk.”

And they’d die for him. He just hoped they didn’t have to.

***

Axelle spent the next few hours boiling under the concealment of a desert tarp in a narrow valley, far enough from the snares not to be spotted by terrorists or wildlife, but close enough to see everything that was going on, which was nothing. It should have been boring but she was so tense from this forced proximity to Dempsey, she couldn’t relax. He’d switched back to professional friendly and she wondered if she’d imagined the heat in his eyes this morning.

It scared her.

Not him.