Soldier's Pregnancy Protocol

by Beth Cornelison

  Her feet met the rocky ground with a jarring thud, and her knees buckled. She tried to roll as Alec had instructed, but he lunged the opposite direction. She was hauled with him in a tumbling heap, falling awkwardly on top of him, butt first.

  Alec groaned. “I told you to roll!”

  “I tried to, but you went the other way! Next time, be more specific about direction.”

  He snorted. “Roger that, sweetcakes.”

  She heard the click of metal, and the pressure of the straps restraining her loosened. With a firm shove, Alec scooted her off him and sat up. Erin crawled to her hands and knees and stayed there while she fought for control over her ragged breathing and scampering nerves.

  Alec cupped her chin in his hand and brought her head up. “Look at me.”

  She did, jolting again when her eyes connected with the stunning color and intensity of his. The warmth of his hand on her chin and steadiness of his gaze made her pulse stagger for reasons that had nothing to do with their perilous jump from the airplane.

  “Pupils are still normal and even,” he said matter-of-factly.

  A twinge of disappointment plucked her. The intent of his touch, his level look was clinical, not comforting. Yet he didn’t release her chin. “You all right?”

  “I’ll live.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. The closest thing to a smile she’d ever seen cross his face. “See. That wasn’t so bad.”

  She scoffed.

  His thumb stroked her cheek, and ribbons of warm sensation streaked from the spot he caressed to pool in her core.

  “I know you were scared, but you did great. Good job, sweetcakes.”

  Erin sighed and tugged her chin from his grasp. “Stop calling me that. My name is Erin, not sweetcakes.”

  His expression hardening, Alec squared his shoulders and started unfastening the parachute straps crisscrossing his chest.

  “Roger that.” His tone was as biting as the rocks cutting into her knees.

  She tugged at her own harness, wondering where the chastisement about his moniker for her came from. She’d never detected any condescension when he used the name, and she could think of plenty of things worse than sweetcakes he could call her. Hormones, she supposed. She’d been emotional and moody a lot lately.

  “Who’s Bradley?”

  Erin snapped her head up. “What?”

  “You said you’d parachuted before with Bradley. Is he your brother?”

  “I’m an only child. Bradley was my husband.”

  Alec hesitated before tossing aside his parachute harness. He lifted one black eyebrow. “Was?”

  The usual twist of grief squeezed her chest. “He…died two years ago.”

  The grim slash of Alec’s mouth softened. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  Alec balled the parachute and stuffed it in its pack along with the riser cords and his harness. “Let’s get moving. We still have two miles to hike, and it’ll be dark soon.”

  “Two miles?” She gaped at Alec as he hoisted the parachute pack onto his back.

  He gave a quick nod. “Uphill. If you’re not up to it—”

  “What? You’ll leave me here to fend for myself?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

  His scowl returned, and before he turned his back, she thought she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes. “If I were going to leave you behind, I’d have done that long ago. But since we’ve come this far, it looks like I’m stuck with you for the foreseeable future.”

  Erin raised her chin and fought back the sting of tears. Darned hormones! She didn’t want to cry in front of Mr. Macho. “I didn’t ask to be involved in your problems! Or to have my life turned upside down by men who want to get at you through me!”

  He glanced over his shoulder and sighed. His stony expression relaxed a crumb, though whether from resignation or remorse, Erin couldn’t be sure.

  “You’re right. You’re in danger because of me. So I will do everything I can to protect you. But I have other objectives that need attention, and I won’t coddle or babysit you.”

  She bristled. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Good.” He started climbing the steep slope. “If the hike is too difficult for you—” he paused and gave her an as-I-was-saying look “—I’ll carry you.”

  His offer caught Erin off guard, landed square in her chest, leaving her speechless. Humbled. She had no doubt this man of many talents and reckless daring could carry her any distance he needed. She’d seen the ease with which he’d lifted the SUV driver at the storage building and had admired Alec’s muscular chest and arms from the first day she laid eyes on him.

  And he’d obviously already carried her from the SUV to the plane while she slept. The idea taunted her. She had no business entertaining thoughts of getting close to a man with a lifestyle as full of danger as Alec’s, but there it was. His drop-dead physique, shocking blue eyes and breathtaking heroics on her behalf were a potent mix.

  “I can handle two miles.” She fell in step behind him, sticking close despite his quick pace. The sinking sun drew the shadows of the trees and mountaintops in ever-deepening pockets of darkness. The sound of her own labored breaths—Alec didn’t seem winded in the least, darn him—blended with the crack of twigs and shuffle of leaves as nocturnal creatures stirred in the settling night.

  The frosty bite of the air at this higher elevation burrowed to Erin’s bones. Before long, she couldn’t control the chattering of her teeth or the shivering in her limbs. “H-how much farther? I’m fr-freezing.”

  Alec stopped and faced her. “Not far.”

  He raked a measuring scrutiny over her and stepped toward her. “How’s your head?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but he chose that moment to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to his chest. He chafed his hands along her arms and back in brisk strokes. With her nose pressed against his chest, the tangy scent of soap and man surrounding her and his calloused hands moving over her, all rational thought fled. She leaned into him and closed her eyes. Relying on Alec for support and warmth seemed as natural as breathing.

  Even with her nap earlier, she was bone-tired, and she savored the chance to rest. She knew fatigue was normal for a woman in her condition, even before factoring in the kind of emotional and physical extremes she’d been through today.

  “Erin?” Grasping her shoulders, he pushed her to arm’s length, and she lamented the lost warmth of his body against hers. He peered down at her, his eyes cutting like lasers through the gathering darkness. “Can you make it just a little farther? The entrance to the safe house is just over the next ridge.”

  “Is there anything to eat at this safe house?”

  He grunted. “The food thing again? Do you always eat this much?”

  His sarcasm nettled her. After all, she’d tried several times to explain the reason behind her huge appetite, and he’d been so busy ordering her around, he hadn’t listened. She brushed past him. “I promise not to eat more than my share.”

  She heard the scuff of rocks as he followed her up the hill.

  “I keep a couple months’ supply of food up here along with clothes, ammunition, batteries. Whatever I think I might need.”

  A chill that had nothing to do with the cold tingled down her spine. “Ammunition?”

  “I have to be prepared for anything.” His grim tone and stark warning were reminder enough of his dubious, dangerous existence. And the jeopardy she was in by association with him.

  Hardly the peaceful, low-profile life she’d imagined for herself when she moved to Cherry Creek.

  They cleared a grouping of trees, and the fading sunlight cast a dim glow over a deep crevasse and the moss-speckled granite face of the mountain on the other side.

  Erin looked left and right. The trail, such as it was, seemed to hit a dead end. “Which way?”

  “Straight,” he said, moving around her and toward the narrow ravine.

>   She gave him a humorless laugh. Fatigue, cold and her pounding head were making her sick to her stomach again. “Um, in case you missed it…there’s a big gulch there.”

  “Mmm-hmm. That’s why there’s a bridge.” Alec started down the slope toward the ravine.

  “There is?” She inched forward but saw nothing except a few ropes strung across the gaping space to the rocky slope on the other side. A knowing quiver started in her gut. No.

  “Don’t tell me those sorry, rotten-looking bits of twine are the bridge you’re talking about!”

  But before she’d finished protesting, Alec put one foot on the bottom rope and gave it a test bounce. The bridge creaked but held his weight. “It’ll hold. You go first.”

  Laughter borne of terror and disbelief bubbled up from her chest. “You’re crazy! There’s got to be another way across.”

  Heaving a sigh that said she was wearing on his patience, Alec’s shoulders drooped, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s like this, swee…uh…Erin. In about five minutes, it will be completely dark. You won’t be able to see where you’re putting your feet. This bridge is the only way to get to the safe house, and I, for one, don’t intend to freeze my butt off out here after dark.” He climbed up to where she stood again and tipped his head toward the ropes. “We don’t have time for you to be a chicken about this.”

  Her spine straightened. “Excuse me! I’ll have you know that I’ve—”

  Alec clapped a hand over her mouth. “Spare me the indignant tirade and hustle your pretty buns out there before we lose all our daylight.”

  She glared at him. She was no chicken! She’d hung with Bradley on even the wildest of his adventures. Just because she voiced a bit of skepticism and wanted to explore other options didn’t mean she was chicken!

  Pulling away from his grip, she peered over the edge of the crevasse into the fathomless shadows. Her heartbeat skittered. Bock, bock. Okay, so she was a little scared. But Bradley used to tell her a little fear was good. It kept you sharp, alert, careful.

  “Hold the top ropes for balance, and take it slow and steady.”

  She snorted. “No kidding.”

  Trembling so hard she was sure her tremors alone would throw her off balance, Erin eased out on the taut rope. She focused on the few inches right in front of her and nothing else. Despite the frigid temperatures, sweat beaded on her face, her back.

  One step. One more. On some level, she was aware of the soothing tone of Alec’s voice behind her. He maintained a litany of encouragement, talking her across, praising her every step. His baritone voice lulled her and filtered deep into the cracks in her soul.

  When she reached the far side and had scrambled several feet from the edge, her gelatin legs collapsed beneath her. Erin hugged her knees to her chest and gasped deep breaths of icy air, while part of her gave an exulted leap of triumph. She’d done it. She watched Alec cross the ropes in five easy strides, barely wobbling on the swaying ropes. A stroll in the park for him. She groaned. Was there anything this man couldn’t do? Once across the ropes, Alec dug in the parachute pack and pulled out a collapsible knife, flicking open the blade.

  Erin frowned. “What are you—?”

  She gasped as he sawed through the first rope and let it fall into the crevasse. Then the next. And the next.

  “What did you do that for? How are we supposed to cross that ravine without the ropes?”

  “We’re not,” he said flatly. He closed the knife and stood. “But neither will anyone else, without a lot of trouble. Which is the point.” He offered her a hand up, but she only gaped at him, at the severed ropes.

  “Then how—?”

  “Trust me, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

  The adrenaline crash, her surging hormones, her fatigue ganged up on her. Tears stung her eyes. “I just want to go home.”

  She hated crying in front of him but couldn’t seem to stop. Heck, even television commercials for jewelry stores made her weepy these days.

  Alec stooped over and lifted her into his arms. He cradled her against his chest and murmured reassurances under his breath. “For the next several days, this is home. Let’s get you inside and fix us something hot to eat.”

  Erin glanced over her shoulder, over Alec’s shoulder. “Inside where? I don’t see any house.”

  “That’s intentional.” Alec ducked his head and started into a night-darkened cave—or rather a wide crack in the granite face of the mountain.

  Erin stiffened and huddled closer to Alec’s chest. Spelunking was the one thing Bradley had never convinced her to try. The tight, dark tunnels, the tomblike atmosphere, the bats, pushed the boundaries of her sense of adventure.

  “Alec?” Her voice echoed hollowly in the damp blackness.

  “I’m gonna put you down over here just long enough to—”

  She twitched as he set her down on the cold rock floor.

  “Easy.”

  “H-have I told y-you how much I h-hate you for p-putting me through this?” Her teeth chattered in the chill.

  “So noted.” She heard him grunt, heard a loud scrape. A thud. A creak. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Alec!”

  “I’m gonna turn on the power, get some lights on for you.”

  Her breath hung in her lungs. “L-lights are g-good.”

  In the total darkness, she couldn’t tell where he’d gone, but moments later a light poured up from a hole in the ground. She scuttled over and peered down a ladder into a cavernous room below. Alec appeared at the foot of the ladder and looked up at her. “Need help coming down?”

  The promise of warmth, of food, of safety was all the encouragement she needed. “No. I can do it.”

  Erin clambered down the ladder and turned to take in the amazing room she was in. Burrowed out of the mountain, buried inside the rocks and soil, the one large room had been filled with computer equipment and electronic gadgetry, stocked with crates of nonperishable food and furnished with a cushiony couch, overstuffed chairs and brass reading lamps. Area rugs in masculine blues and dark reds dotted the hardwood floor. Dark paneled cabinets and framed maps lined the walls.

  “Welcome,” Alec said, striding toward the galleylike kitchen area. “Mi casa es su casa.”

  Erin could only goggle at the incredible room, hidden inside the mountain. “You live here?”

  “Only when necessary. Beef stew or chili mac?” He held out two cans for her inspection.

  Her stomach rumbled. “Stew, please.”

  With a nod, he set the can on the counter and took down a pan to heat their dinner.

  Though she could feel warm air stirring in the room, she rubbed her arms to chase the lingering chill of outdoors. “How in the world did you build this place? How did you get all this furniture and equipment up here?”

  He thwacked the bottom of the stew can with his palm, emptying it into the pot. “It wasn’t easy. But all the trouble and expense were worth it. Daniel and I have used this place a number of times to lie low when we had someone breathing down our necks.” Alec tossed the empty can in the trash and sighed. “I’d kinda hoped I’d find him here. But…”

  He didn’t finish the thought.

  She crossed the room and sank tiredly on a tall stool on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. “Tell me about Daniel.”

  He gave her a startled look, then continued stirring the pot of stew. The savory scent of beef and onion spiced the air, and her mouth watered.

  “Daniel was my partner.” Alec scowled and grunted. “He is my partner. We’ve worked together for close to five years.”

  “That’s a long time. You must be close.”

  Alec was silent for long moments, staring into the pot and wearing a contemplative expression. “He’s my best friend. My only friend,” he said at last. “He went missing nine months ago. I didn’t think much of it at first. I mean, he’s one of the best agents on the team. He could handle whatever trouble came his way.” Alec tapped the spoon on
the edge of the pot and faced her. “But when I still hadn’t heard from him after five months, I got restless. If he was alive, he’d have gotten some word to me, some message.”

  “Like the letter that came to my house. The one Knife and his buddy were after.”

  Alec frowned. “No. Written communication is too dangerous. As Knife and his cohort proved. It’s too easy to trace, leaves evidence that can be used against you. This missive from Daniel is highly irregular and…has me stumped.”

  “Then you’ve read his letter?”

  “I looked at it while you were having the CT scan.”

  “And?”

  Alec stirred the stew again, then took down two bowls from the cabinet.

  “You’re not going to tell me what it said, are you?”

  “Sharing information is not part of my job description. Leaks get people killed.”

  “What is it exactly that you do?”

  “Whatever I’m needed for.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “No.”

  Erin huffed and shook her head. “Who am I gonna tell? What could it hurt to give me some clue who you are and what I’m involved in?”

  He filled the emptied pot with water and left it to soak in the sink. Handing her one steaming bowl of stew, he carried the other bowl to a table behind her.

  She spun on her stool to face him. “Come on, Alec. You can trust me!”

  He arched a dark eyebrow and set his spoon down. “Oh? ‘Alec has the letter. He just left. In a florist’s van,’” Alec said in a poor imitation of her voice. “Ring a bell?”

  She cringed and gritted her teeth. “That’s different!”

  “Really? How?”

  “I wasn’t going to let them kill me over that stupid letter!”

  “So I can trust you as long as your life’s not at stake. Is that the size of it?”

  “I… Oh, forget it!” Her injured temple gave a painful throb as she stabbed a bit of potato from her bowl and jabbed it in her mouth. And scalded her tongue. “Ow!”

  “Careful, it’s hot,” Alec said, the quirk of his eyebrow the only outward change in his expressionless facade.

  She tossed him a glare, then turned her back.