by Paige Tyler
“Look, I know you don’t want to be around Kendra,” Tate said, his mouth tightening under his mustache. “I’m not thrilled at the idea of her tagging along with us either, but John wants her to get some field time on a low-risk mission—sort of a reward for all the hard work she’s been doing.”
Declan swore. “You know that’s crazy, right? There’s no such thing as a low-risk mission, not when every third person in the place we’re going carries a weapon. Is John willing to let her—or one of us—get killed just so he can give her a freaking reward?”
“No one’s going to get killed,” Tate shot back. “And unless you want to quit the DCO in protest, there’s only one option—shut up and soldier on.”
“I was a forest ranger, not a soldier.”
“Yeah? Well, go over there and take a look in your rucksack. I’m pretty sure forest rangers don’t carry the amount of weaponry you have shoved in that bag.”
Tate was right, but Declan still growled in frustration.
His friend sighed. “I know the situation sucks, but it is what it is. You have to get your head right or somebody is going to get hurt. But it won’t be because of Kendra; it’ll be because of you.”
That had pretty much been the end of the conversation. Tate had left Declan there, staring at the cracked asphalt of the runway, wondering how he was going to handle two weeks in the same jungle as Kendra.
But no answer had been forthcoming then, and now, as he sat wedged into a seat that was way too small for him, he still didn’t have one.
Being so close to her shouldn’t bother him. He’d gotten over his crush on her and moved on. As he stole occasional glances at her, he knew that was a crock of shit. He’d tried; he really had. But since deciding four months ago that enough was enough and it was past time he stop pining for a woman who refused to even acknowledge his existence, he’d been miserable as hell.
He bit back a growl. Damn, he was pathetic. But there was something about Kendra that attracted him like a bear to honey. He might have chuckled at the analogy if it wasn’t so damn fitting.
Kendra had already been firmly established with the DCO when he’d shown up seven years ago. Back then, she’d mostly shadowed the training officers and watched—taking notes, making her quiet observations and recommendations directly to the trainers. At the time, Declan had been coming off the disaster that was his relationship with Marissa, so he hadn’t been interested in getting involved with any woman. Plus, he’d been consumed with trying to fit in with his team and learn everything they had to teach him. He had no military training to fall back on, so there’d been a lot to learn. By the time he’d gotten his head above water, he already had it bad for the behavioral scientist.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t string together two sentences whenever he was around her. He wasn’t a Romeo with the ladies by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d never gotten tongue-tied around women—not even his former fiancée. But it wasn’t hard to see why Kendra had that effect on him. She was beautiful and smart, made him smile like no other woman ever had, made the camouflage uniform she was wearing look way sexier than it should, and she smelled delicious as hell.
His nose usually wasn’t that good—mostly because he never used it—except when it came to Kendra. Then it worked just fine. Sometimes he could pick up her scent from the far side of the DCO training complex. Sitting this close to her now, it was the only thing he could smell, and it was overwhelming. He closed his eyes, hoping to block out her scent, but it was useless. Her pheromones surrounded him, holding him prisoner and refusing to let go.
He’d tried to catch Kendra’s eye for years and fallen flat on his face every time—because she was too busy obsessing over that jerk Clayne Buchanan. It had taken Declan a while, but he finally realized he was wasting his time—and his life—waiting for her and had decided to move on.
And it had been working. He’d gotten to the point where he didn’t think about her 24/7, didn’t subconsciously sniff the air to catch her scent the minute he drove onto the DCO complex. He’d even dated a few women he’d thought might have had long-term potential. There might not have been that same animal attraction he felt with Kendra, and he’d have to hide his shifter side, but that wasn’t too high a price to pay to be normal, right?
Before today he thought he’d been well on his way to forgetting about Kendra and getting on with his so-called life. Then John had decided to send her on this mission and everything Declan thought was in the past came right back and smacked him in the face.
For the first time in forever, he wanted to put his fist through a wall. But as he felt his anger rise again, he realized he wasn’t angry at John or Tate or even Kendra. He was mad at himself for being so screwed up that the mere thought of being in the same jungle as the blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty could get him so twisted up in knots.
Damn, he really was pathetic.
Chapter 2
Kendra was ready to admit this field thing hadn’t been one of her brightest ideas. So far, all she’d officially observed was the color green—as in the endless jungle that threatened to grow over anything that stopped moving for more than five minutes—and that this whole thing was stupid—as in stomping through the undergrowth, scouting objectives and choke points, setting up landing sites for helicopters that were never going to be coming, and generally wasting their time.
Of course, maybe she wouldn’t have felt nearly as foolish stumbling around in the jungle if she were carrying a weapon. But Tate had pointed out that her official task for this exercise was to observe—and that didn’t require a weapon. At least he’d given her one of the GPS units and a map, so she could track their movement through the jungle. If not for that, she would have lost her mind already.
It wasn’t long after they’d arrived at the airport outside San Jose that she’d thought maybe the rest of the mission wasn’t going to be as thrilling as the covert flight down. First, she and the guys had been herded directly from the aircraft into the back of a covered cargo truck. Then they’d driven south for the next seven hours, stopping only once to get gas. When she’d wondered out loud if the truck was going to drive them all the way to Panama, Tate told her that Costa Rica didn’t have a military of their own, so having heavily armed Americans close to the cities was bad for public relations.
“The government prefers to keep us out of sight as much as possible,” Tate added.
“I thought we were invited down here,” she’d said.
He shrugged. “Invited is a relative term. They want the U.S. here to help train the police, but they don’t want to be too obvious about it.”
From the reading she’d done on the local politics, Kendra understood that, but it posed an even bigger question. “If they want to keep this as a small operation, why is the DCO sending people?”
Tate let out a short laugh. “They don’t know we’re DCO, remember? To them, we’re Homeland Security down here teaching their law enforcement how to protect the country from terrorist organizations and internal threats.”
“If that’s the case, why isn’t there a real team of experts from Homeland Security down here instead of us?”
“Rumors are that the first DCO team sent down here used the exercise as a cover to get into the country to rescue some congressman’s son from a group of rebels who’d kidnapped him for ransom,” Tate explained. “Since then, I think it was just a case of us getting stuck with the job because Homeland doesn’t want it.”
When they’d reached the base camp deep in the mountainous jungles of the huge La Amistad National Reserve and met the other people they’d be working with, Kendra had immediately understood why John and some of the Committee members wanted this exercise reevaluated. It wasn’t exactly a well-run operation. In fact, it seemed sort of like a hot mess.
There were twenty of them in all—eight local cops, eight marines, and four drug enforcement agents. It was obvious from the get-go that nobody trusted or liked anyone else, and most of them did
n’t want to be there. The DEA agents in charge of the training exercise didn’t appreciate the marines encroaching on their territory. The marines, who seemed to be there simply because they were part of the bargain that came with using the navy helicopters that would be part of the exercise, didn’t seem to appreciate being involved in the operation. And both groups looked down their noses at the odd team supposedly from Homeland Security. They probably thought Kendra and the guys were CIA spies. The local police officers wouldn’t talk to anyone, clearly wishing they didn’t have to be included in an exercise that had apparently devolved into more of a political hot potato than useful training.
Kendra glanced at Declan as they trudged through the undergrowth. She knew he was upset about her tagging along, but he hadn’t said two words to her since they’d gotten to Costa Rica. Figures. The moment she decided to give Declan a shot, he didn’t so much as notice her anymore.
Did she have luck with men or what?
She’d wasted years fixating on Clayne, only to discover there was absolutely zero chemistry between them. The worst part? Her damn compatibility software had told her she and Clayne weren’t a match years ago. Instead, it had correctly identified Danica as the woman he was supposed to be with. But did she pay attention to her own damn matchmaking program? No. She only wished she’d realized they were so completely incompatible before they’d slept together. Fortunately, Clayne was just as eager to forget the indiscretion as she was, and they’d sworn to never tell a soul about it. Well, Ivy knew, but that didn’t count.
As Kendra climbed over a huge fallen tree, she looked for Declan and realized he’d disappeared again. For a big guy, he could move like a ghost. She had no idea where he went, but he’d been slipping off like this the entire day. Recon, she guessed, though she didn’t know what he was looking for. Other than about a million monkeys, sloths, birds, and reptiles of every variety, they hadn’t seen another soul out here.
No surprise there. Not only was La Amistad a pristine nature preserve, but their training exercise had taken them into the very deepest, most inhospitable sections of the park, close to the border with Panama. Plus, it turned out that November was the rainiest time of the year for this part of the country. Not exactly the peak of the ecotourism season. That meant they had the whole jungle to wander around in without worrying about running into another person. And considering what Tate had told her about the government being a little uncomfortable with their presence, the timing and location for this exercise probably wasn’t an accident.
But if that was the case, why did Declan disappear every thirty minutes or so?
Kendra searched the surrounding forest again and caught sight of the bear shifter jogging into the clearing. She sighed as he brushed past her to catch up with Tate. Now that she’d started looking at Declan as something more than a coworker, she couldn’t help but notice he was a lot more attractive than she’d realized. Last night, she’d seen him in nothing but his uniform pants as he’d rinsed off in a stream after they’d stopped to make camp, and damn, he was scrumptious. Why hadn’t she ever noticed how hunky that body of his was?
She was starting to think she was really slow when it came to seeing what was right in front of her face.
They spent the next fifteen minutes skirting a rocky ridge that was too steep to go over. Even going around it was hard work and everyone was breathing heavy by the time the group leader—a gruff DEA agent named Carmichael—called for a break. Kendra opened her canteen and took a long drink. She had no idea this part of the world had such rough country. One second they were climbing up the side of a five-hundred-foot ridgeline, the next, they found themselves slopping their way through swampy marshes. And the moment they dragged themselves out of the mud, they’d be in the middle of a thick jungle where it seemed like the foliage clung to them every step they took. It was beautiful, but it was hard not being intimidated by the sheer wildness of it all.
At least it wasn’t hot. Even though she’d read all the weather profiles for Costa Rica, some part of her still thought the jungle would be hot and steamy—like in the movies. But it hardly ever got much warmer than seventy during the day, and at night it was down in the fifties.
The worst part was the rain. Most of it didn’t make it through the thick jungle canopy, but water constantly dripped off every branch and leaf. Within two days, she didn’t have a single piece of clothing that was completely dry, and sleeping turned into more of an exercise in finding a dry spot than in getting any actual rest.
Voices drifted her way as she screwed the cap back on her canteen. She looked up to see Declan and Tate deep in conversation. From the looks on their faces, they were worried about something. She stowed her canteen and walked over to join them. Brent and Gavin followed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.
Tate hesitated. “I’m not sure. But I’m getting a funny feeling that someone has us out here playing human mine detector.”
That didn’t sound good. “What does that mean?”
“Pull out your map,” Declan said.
She pulled the carefully folded laminated map out of one of the cargo pockets of her pants and opened it. She’d taken the readings from the GPS Tate had given her and logged their position every few hours. Declan stepped closer and pointed at the dots she’d made on the map.
“I know it doesn’t look like it because someone is trying to make it hard to see, but we’re not stomping around aimlessly. We’re being run through a loose search pattern. Somebody has us looking for something.”
Studying the map while standing so close to all that muscle was difficult and Kendra had to force herself to focus. Looking at the placement of the dots on the map, she could see how they might seem like a search pattern. She’d simply thought they were supposed to move back and forth through the region like this.
“Maybe it’s just easier to have us move in a relative straight back and forth pattern?” she suggested.
Declan shook his head. “I’d agree if we weren’t occasionally pulled off our path and routed through specific areas. Like that sheltered valley we just left. Or that big bend in the river we passed this morning.”
Kendra followed along as he pointed them out on the map with his long fingers, then looked up at him. “What do you think we’re supposed to be looking for?”
“I don’t know,” Tate said. “But I’m not comfortable knowing we’re only going to find out the answer after we’ve stepped into the middle of something.”
Hence the human-mine-detector reference.
Kendra glanced at Declan to see him looking off into the jungle again.
“What aren’t you guys telling me?” she asked. “Declan, where have you been disappearing to all day?”
It was Tate who answered. “Declan thinks someone’s following us and has been since late last night.”
She pinned Declan with a look. “You think? Or you know?”
He met her gaze. “There’s definitely someone out there, but they’re quiet—too quiet. And they’re keeping their distance most of the time. Every once in a while though, I’ll hear them move closer, but they disappear whenever I try to get a look at them.”
Kendra glanced at each of the guys. She knew they trusted Declan’s instincts, so that meant she did, too. “Should we tell the others?”
“Tell them what?” Tate asked. “That we’re suspicious about the coordinates we’ve been following for the last three days? That the bear shifter on our team is certain he’s heard someone following us, but that they’re a couple miles away? Would you believe any of that if you didn’t work for the DCO?”
He had a point. “So, what do we do?”
“We keep our eyes open and be ready if the shit hits the fan,” Declan said.
Great.
“Declan, if things get ugly,” Tate added, “I want you to get Kendra out of here.”
Declan didn’t look happy about that, but he nodded.
Kendra clenched her jaw. They were t
alking like she wasn’t even there. “I can take care of myself.”
“Not without a weapon, you can’t,” Tate said.
“That’s because you didn’t give me one.”
“You’re right, I didn’t. Which means you can’t take care of yourself, can you?”
Kendra opened her mouth to argue, but DEA Agent Carmichael shouted for everyone to get back on the trail. Declan and Tate walked away, leaving Kendra with nothing to do but follow and fume. If she could just tell them how she’d handled herself in Washington State, or how calm, cool, and collected she’d been under pressure breaking into the DCO’s record repository, they’d change their tune. But she couldn’t say anything about either of those things, so they thought she was nothing more than a mild-mannered behavioral scientist who occasionally helped out by setting up training for the DCO field teams.
Regardless of how she felt, though, she kept close to the guys—Declan in particular. She might be mad, but she wasn’t stupid. If anything happened, she wanted to be right next to the big shifter.
They’d barely made it fifteen minutes down the path when Declan came to a sudden halt and held up his arm, signaling them to stop.
“What is it?” Tate demanded, immediately at their side. He’d already flipped the safety off his M4 carbine.
“They’ve moved in front of us now, and to either side of our line of travel.” Declan tested the breeze with his nose. “They’re not even trying to hide it now. We’re being surrounded.”
Carmichael strode over, an annoyed look on his face. “What the hell are you saying?”
“He’s saying we’re about to be attacked,” Tate said softly. He took up a defensive position several steps away from Declan’s left shoulder while Gavin and Brent quickly moved up behind Kendra, putting her in the middle of a protective box.
“And how the hell does he know that?” Carmichael demanded.
Tate gave him a sidelong glance. “You don’t surround a group of armed people if you want to ask them to play poker.”
