Tempt the Night

by Dixie Lee Brown

  Brady clasped her hand in his and stroked his thumb across her knuckles. “You should try to sleep . . . before I change my mind and . . . ”

  Mac raised a brow and slanted a glance toward him. She had a pretty good idea what the and was. What would it take to make him veer from his course? Probably best not to go there. She pulled her hand back. “I’m a little tired. I could use some sleep. You’ll be here, right?” The idea of him leaving them out here alone sent a jagged edge of fear knifing through her.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, and the fire will keep the animals away. You’re safe, Mac.”

  The truth was, wild animals probably represented much less danger than man—at least the ones they’d been running into lately. Her gaze lingered on Brady’s virile, strong chest and arms before her eyes rose to meet his. She owed him more than she’d ever be able to repay. “Thanks for what you did back there. I wouldn’t be here—”

  “Don’t go there, Mac. It’s counterproductive to dwell on what could have happened. That trap keeps you from appreciating the good things in life. I’m speaking from experience here, in case you were wondering.” He leaned close and brushed his lips over her earlobe. “If you need something to keep that pretty little head occupied, think about everything I’d like to do to you once we get back to civilization.”

  As her breath caught, Mac pulled away but couldn’t keep the smile from her lips, nor the lust from every fiber of her being. He knew it too, and the sexy grin he answered with made her knees weak.

  So much for the friend experiment. Did Brady even realize he’d veered directions again? Why didn’t his renewed efforts at seduction bother her? She’d never acted so recklessly in her life. That wasn’t something she did . . . ever. Until now, anyway. This train definitely needed to slow down—maybe even back up. The fact that she was more attracted to this man than anyone else she’d ever known wasn’t going to make that easy.

  She skirted around him and stepped to the mat of pine boughs alongside Maria. Lying on her back, she scrunched and fidgeted until she’d made a comfortable trough in the makeshift pad. “This isn’t bad.” She whispered so as not to wake the woman next to her.

  Brady folded his legs and dropped to the sleeping mat next to hers. “It’ll do in a pinch. I’ve slept on my share of these, but I’m not ashamed to admit I prefer a nice comfy bed.”

  The silence settled around them, and the sudden hoot of an owl startled Mac. Brady chuckled, and she cast a glare his way. She was leaving Alaska with this man tomorrow. They barely knew each other, yet she was letting him call the shots. Not that he hadn’t already proved he was worthy of her trust. What was bothering her then?

  Certainly, running for her life wasn’t the thrill ride the movies made it out to be. Leaving her home of twenty-six years with nothing but a bag of secondhand clothes was a little like dropping into a black hole. But that wasn’t what turned her stomach inside out and set her on the edge of a killer headache.

  It was leaving Paddy.

  Feeling like she failed him in every way possible was a crushing stone on her chest, preventing her from getting a full breath. The prickling of tears behind her eyelids was the last straw. She gulped air with a pathetic sound as she turned on her side, away from Brady.

  “Mac?”

  There was no way she could trust her voice to answer him.

  “Damn it, Mac.” The swish of pine boughs heralded his movement, and the next thing she knew, he was behind her. “Scoot over.”

  She did as she was told, more to get away from him than to give him room, but he stretched out behind her, slid his arm around her waist, and twined one of his legs with hers.

  He kissed her neck gently, and she shivered. “It’s going to be all right. Tomorrow we’ll be in the safest place on earth. No one will touch you there. Not even me . . . unless you want me to.”

  Mac leaned back into his warmth as his mantle of protection fell over her. It was quite possible she’d lost her mind, but she couldn’t escape the certainty that this was where she belonged. A short time later, with eyelids drooping and her body finally relaxed against the solid wall of Brady’s chest, gently moving as he breathed, she whispered the words that had been tumbling over and over in her mind.

  “I do want you to touch me.”

  Chapter Ten

  THE SWEET SMELL of Mac filled his senses, and Brady stirred, waking slowly with what was surely a contented grin. Starting a new day with a smile on his face was a rarity—one that he wouldn’t mind repeating in the very near future.

  Mac lay on her side in front of him, and he spooned around her. His arm enfolded her tightly against him, and one of his legs sprawled across her soft thigh, tangling with hers. It’d been a long time since he’d wanted to laze in bed with a woman, but damn if that wasn’t top on his list this morning—in spite of the fact that they weren’t really in a bed and their present situation definitely wasn’t conducive to lazing.

  Not willing to break the contact just yet, he continued to lie next to her, breathing her in, until something began to niggle at the back of his mind. A sound? A change in the air? A subtle sensation that all wasn’t right. Frowning, he concentrated on the missing piece of the puzzle—and then it came to him.

  The barely noticeable vibration detached itself from the tree branches and the forest floor and became the steadily beating blades of a helicopter. Brady disentangled himself and leapt to his feet, swiveling until he determined the chopper’s heading. It came at them from the mountain, in a straight line toward where the house had been.

  He studied the craft as it flew low over the canopy of tree tops that veiled them. It was an older Huey, designed for inserting small numbers of troops in strategic locations during the Viet Nam War. Machine gun armaments were clearly visible, unusual once a chopper had been retired and sold. The FAA and DHS didn’t much care for private citizens flying around in armed ex-military gunships.

  Brady frowned. What kind of a hotshot had Joe hired to pull them out of here? And why was it bothering Brady so much? He slid his jacket sleeve up slightly so he could make out the time on his watch. Could it be he was edgy because it was barely six a.m.?

  Mac rolled toward him. “Is that our ride?”

  He didn’t answer, his gaze following the path of the chopper instead. Clearly, the pilot knew where he was going and was headed directly for the helipad behind the house. Two minutes later, the whirling blades began to slow until they could no longer be heard.

  Maria was already on her feet, her bag scrunched tightly in her arms, picking her way through the brush in the general direction of the house. “Thank God. Now we can get off this mountain.”

  Brady’s hunch was practically burning a hole in his chest, and he’d learned a long time ago not to ignore the feeling that he was about to make a colossal mistake. Now—how the hell was he going to explain that to two women who just wanted to get out of here and someplace safe?

  “No!” Explanations would have to wait. Brady kicked dirt onto the dying embers of the fire, then swung the rifle over his shoulder. “We need to put some distance between them and us. Let’s go. Now.”

  Maria pivoted and stared as though he’d just sprouted another head. “What are you talking about? You said a helicopter would pick us up.” She jabbed her finger toward the house. “That’s a helicopter—and my son is waiting for me.”

  Brady met Mac’s curious gaze as he pulled her to her feet, hoping for a small sign of support. It would be good if he didn’t have to fight them both. “There’s something hinky about this setup, and until I know what it is, we need to get moving—that way.” He gestured toward the slope of the mountain, the opposite direction from the house.

  He snatched Mac’s bag from the ground and pressed it against her stomach until she wrapped her arm around it, and he started her walking with a gentle nudge. When he turned to hurry Maria along, the woman stood stiffly, arms akimbo, her eyes stony with rebellion.

  He strove to
adopt his most reasonable tone even though the SEAL in him was inclined to come down hard for insubordination. Clenching his jaw tightly, he managed to shut down his natural reaction. “Maria, we’re going up a little higher where we can keep an eye on the new arrivals and see what happens when our chopper flies over at nine hundred hours. Give me that long—three hours—to make sure we’re not walking into a trap.” He motioned her to follow Mac, almost losing it at the defiant toss of her head.

  Maria’s gaze darted toward the chopper, then back at him. “This is ridiculous. You expect us to trudge around out there with the bears and God knows what else, when we could be on our way to my son?”

  Brady’s temper flared, and he took a step toward her.

  “Enough already with the fucking bears, Maria.” Unseen, Mac had moved up behind him, and her low voice hissed through the trees. “Can’t you see he’s trying to keep you alive so you’ll see your son again? What would Paddy want you to do?”

  Mac’s lips thinned, and Brady picked up on the warning in her eyes. Maria might want to think twice before answering that question any way other than the one that would keep her safe.

  Maria glared at Mac until her eyes misted over, then dropped her gaze. With one last look toward the chopper, she rejoined them as Mac moved out toward the slope ahead.

  Brady brought up the rear of their small procession. The ground sloped upward gently, and the trees began to thin. Going beyond the cover of the forest, where an aircraft on reconnaissance could spot them, was no good. He had his eye on a rock face about two hundred feet up the side of the mountain. With a low overhang, the formation was shaped like a miniature amphitheater. Would there be room to get inside and stay out of sight? If he had time, he’d leave the women and scout it out to be sure, but he couldn’t take that chance right now. A short, steep climb would give them their best opportunity to stay hidden in a spot high enough to yield what he needed most—cell phone service.

  They’d only covered a half mile through the dense brush and fallen trees when Mac stopped, clearly exhausted, and let her bag fall to her feet, dropping to her knees on its somewhat softer-than-the-ground surface. Maria blew out a breath and plopped on a downed log, burying her face in the bag on her lap. Brady rifled through his duffel for water and produced two bottles. He continued up the slope, handing one to Maria, then stopped in front of Mac and passed her the last bottle, kneeling close by.

  “Thank you.” Mac took a long drink and handed it back.

  He accepted the bottle and sipped slowly as he appraised her. “I should be thanking you . . . for trusting me.” He tipped his head toward Maria.

  She glanced at the woman resting a few feet down the slope and then shifted her gaze back to him, searching his face as though there might be something new there since the last time she checked. “Don’t read too much into that, Brady. It was nothing more than a gut feeling. I trust you on some things, but I don’t really know you, do I? I’d like to, but I see you close up every time our conversation turns in a direction you’re not willing to go. Apparently, you don’t let anyone get too close, so I won’t take it personally.” A slight smile softened her curt observation.

  Damn. Her brunette hair, mussed from her night on the ground, curled and bounced as she tossed a few strands out of her face. There was only one way he was going to get to know her better, and that was by opening up to her. The prospect of that scared the shit out of him, but so did the idea of her walking away before he was ready to let her go. He leaned back on his arms, and his gaze dropped to her lips. “And what if I did . . . let you in? Would you find me so hideous that you’d run screaming?”

  She shook her head, warmth stealing into her eyes. “There’s always that possibility, I suppose, but I doubt it.”

  The absolute sincerity of her words blew him away, and a deep longing for nothing more than her touch on his life made him feel empty without it. He snorted a laugh and gave her a wink. “Be careful what you wish for, sugar. It might come true.”

  He stood and pulled her up, reveling in the softness of her hand against his calloused one. “Let’s get going,” he said before she could reply. “I’ll take the lead from here.”

  Brady walked away, sensing her still staring at his back. Was he seriously considering telling her the horror stories that made him not even trust himself? Of all the women he’d ever met, she was the only one who seemed concerned with who he really was and why. Could she handle it? Even if she could, it wouldn’t make a difference one way or the other if his violent nature decided to put in an appearance. And that was the real fucking problem, wasn’t it?

  After another twenty minutes, they reached the relative safety of the rock overhang. It was better than Brady had hoped, with the inside sloping off toward the back wall, giving them a cave-like effect. The women crawled as far back in the shadows as they could. Brady lay stretched out facedown at the lip of the rock, a pair of binocs trained on the helipad, the charred remains of the log house, and the outbuildings. He counted eight men, all armed and dressed in fatigues. They seemed to be searching for something, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what that something was. Once again, his instincts had proved trustworthy. Now all they had to do was keep their heads down for a couple more hours until their rescue craft arrived. First though, he needed to talk to Joe and hopefully give their pilot a heads-up on what he’d be flying into.

  He whistled to get Mac’s attention and motioned for them to stay put. Crab-crawling to the edge of the overhang, he reached what appeared to be a wildlife trail that circled around and came out on top of the rock face. The signal strength had been weak and spotty since they left the house. Once at the top, it alternated between two and three bars. That would have to be enough. He pressed in Joe’s number.

  The phone rang once before Joe picked up. “Been waiting for your call, Jim. I assume you made it to the safe house all right?”

  “My signal’s not too strong, so let me get the important stuff out first. Someone torched the safe house, and we had to evacuate. We’re on the side of the mountain. There’s a chopper here now—I counted eight men—looking for us. Your evac guy may need to do some evasive flying when he gets here.”

  “Shit. It’s never boring with you, is it? How are Maria and our new friend holding up?” A chair scraped the floor, and he could imagine Joe rising from his desk to pace.

  “They’re doing remarkably well. The sooner we get out of here, the better, though.”

  “I might be able to do something about that. I’ll give the pilot, Nick Taylor, a call and see if he can move up the timetable. Send me your GPS coordinates.”

  “Is your guy good enough to pluck us off the face of a rock?” Brady pushed the button that sent the coordinates off.

  “Walker put him through his paces—what do you think?” Joe chuckled, and the call disconnected.

  Brady grinned. Walker had been with Joe longer than any of them. Others thought he was crazy, but Brady had learned early on that it was a rumor Walker perpetuated himself for reasons of his own. He was one hell of a warrior who never hesitated to push the envelope, and he demanded the same from those he deigned to work with. If the flyboy had Walker’s stamp of approval, he could probably walk on water too.

  Brady waited a few minutes, taking advantage of the higher elevation to scout out their position before heading back down. The area around the helipad was too damn quiet. What were they waiting for? They should have moved on shortly after their unsuccessful search. Instead, all eight of them were holed up somewhere out of sight. None of the reasons he could come up with for that made him particularly happy.

  Mac and Maria were conversing amiably as he approached, and surprisingly, that sparked a certain amount of contentment in him. It was good that the women were able to get past the angry words that had been spoken in the heat of the moment. Truth was, for having someone on their trail trying to kill them, they were doing all right. Hell, they were friggin’ rock stars. He certainly couldn�
��t blame Maria for wanting to get to her son. It’d been over eight months since she’d seen him. That had to be pure hell.

  Their conversation lagged as he got closer, so he veered toward the outer ledge and pulled his binocs from his backpack. He sat cross-legged and peered through the lenses for a few seconds before he sensed the presence beside him.

  “Maria, have a seat so you don’t make such a good target.” He lowered the binoculars and turned his head as she hastened to copy his position.

  “I’m sorry, Brady. I shouldn’t have argued with your decision. I don’t blame you for being angry.” Maria leaned her hands on her folded legs and appeared to brace for his wrath.

  “Apology accepted . . . and I’m not mad.”

  She blinked, and then blinked again, as a smile slowly eased the tension on her face. She leaned toward him. “The little tigress isn’t angry anymore either. We were discussing what we would fix for breakfast . . . if we had any food.” A quiet laugh bubbled free.

  “Little tigress, huh? I like that. I may have to borrow it sometime, if that’s all right?” He delved into his backpack, sorting through the contents.

  “Of course, although she may not be pleased.” Maria grinned mischievously.

  “Well, that’s the idea.” Brady joined her in a conspiratorial laugh, then handed her two protein bars he’d found in his bag. “One for the little tigress too.”

  Thank you, but I think you should take it to her.” She pressed it into his hand.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You sure?”

  “She would like that. I’ll keep watch on the helicopter while you go.” She made little shooing motions with her hands.

  For a couple of minutes, he would indulge her . . . and himself. He handed her the binoculars and pushed to his feet. Mac sat leaning against the back of the grotto, her legs drawn to her chest and her cheek lying against her knees. She lifted her head as he approached and squinted against the sunlight. A slight smile moved her lips.