Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors

by Sharon Hamilton

  “I'll have the PO box watched so we can nab this Paxton guy when he comes for his mail.”

  “Great job getting that name and address.” Coop contemplated the roof of his tent two feet above him. “In the meantime, see what you can dig up on him. Weird that the box is in L.A.. Find out what his connection is to this area, and to Maggie. If he has some kind of hold over her.”

  “Maybe this is the break we've been waiting for.”

  “Sure as hell hope so. Listen, do you think she spotted you tailing her?”

  “Don't think so. Why?”

  Coop binged the green nylon under a couple of ants and sent them flying off the tent. “She was spooked today when she got back from Redding. Really spooked. I wonder if the bastards are threatening her. Or blackmailing her.”

  Jack considered. “That could explain why she picked up the evidence in the first place.”

  Coop grunted. “And why she's not coming clean to me. Maybe I'll invite her to dinner tonight, and try again.”

  There was a pause. “Are you okay with this one, buddy? You're not falling for her, are you?”

  “Not a chance.” Coop chuckled. “I may have to make the ultimate sacrifice, but I'll survive, I expect.”

  Jack snickered. “Yea-uh. But if it's body parts you'll be sacrificing, you take care it's something from below your belt. Save the other bits for someone who won't be in jail.”

  “I will, amigo.”

  But Coop knew damn well it was too late.

  His heart had been a gonner the first minute he'd laid eyes on her.

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Thirty-Four

  After returning to the tower, Maggie waited a couple of hours, jumping at every noise, frightened that the blue sedan would suddenly appear at her doorstep. She had been super careful leaving Redding, and was sure she'd shaken the tail. But she was still terrified.

  To distract herself, she thought about the bombshell Cooper had laid on her—that he worked for the Department of Fish and Wildlife. Well, that explained his interest in the subject of bears and poaching.

  It also meant... he wasn't the bad guy!

  Thank God!

  Though, she didn’t even want to think about what that would mean for her resolve to keep him at arm's length. It had been hard enough to resist him when she thought he might be a criminal. Now that she knew they were on the same side, she had to be even more vigilant against their incredible attraction.

  For him, that attraction could prove deadly.

  She couldn’t believe he’d thought she was part of the poaching. Why on earth had he thought that? She was pretty sure he hadn’t believed her about not knowing who the poacher was.

  She needed to let Iris know right away that he wasn't a suspect.

  She thought briefly about retrieving the battery and giving it to Cooper herself, but then she'd have to explain why she'd gone to the FBI in the first place. Better to let it go to CDFW anonymously. The less she was involved, the better.

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Thirty-Five

  Cooper slowly ran his thumb and forefinger across the fold at the top of the paper bag from Tommy's, honing the crease to a keen edge. Maggie was sitting on the Yamaha at Fuller's Fill'er Up and Go across the street, making a call on her cell phone.

  “Pretty girl,” Tommy remarked.

  Coop jerked around in surprise, unaware he'd been so transparent in his observation. “If you say so.”

  “You like her?” The old man's voice held just the barest hint of inquisition.

  Coop looked up innocently. “Couldn't really say. Just met her a couple of days ago.” He continued to toy absently with the bag, which contained a box of latex condoms, and darted a glance back at the Yamaha.

  “People have been known to become very well acquainted in less time than that,” Tommy said evenly. “You're camped pretty close to Tower Eight, didn't you say?”

  Turning his attention to the grey-haired pharmacist, Coop searched his face for a possible reason behind the sudden interest in his choice of campsite. “Yep. Right down the hill.”

  “She's a good friend of mine, you know.”

  Coop nodded and smiled blandly, his mind sifting through possible scenarios. Could the guy be involved in the poaching, despite coming up clean in all the background checks?

  “Kind of like a daughter to me, if you know what I mean.” Tommy leaned offhandedly against the pharmacy counter. “In fact, she's like a sister to that whole battalion of firefighters.”

  “So I'd noticed.” What the hell was the old gaffer getting at? He tucked the bag under an arm and folded his hands over his abdomen. With a start, he realized what Tommy must be thinking. And he didn't think it had anything to do with poaching.

  Choking on a chortle, he pulled out the bag again, and waved it. “I assume you are, in your subtle way, referring to my purchase.” Coop grinned. “Now, there's an idea,” he declared, all innocence. “And, here, I'd only thought to keep my matches dry.”

  Uh-huh.

  Who was he trying to kid—the old man, or himself?

  Tommy's mouth clapped shut and Coop swore he saw red creeping up his ears. “That's a mighty interesting way of keeping matches dry,” Tommy said skeptically. “Don't believe I ever heard of it.”

  “Old Indian trick. Perfect fit for a matchbox.”

  “You don't say.” Tommy still sounded unconvinced. “So...that's all you had in mind?”

  Cooper glanced over at Maggie, who seemed to be finishing up her call. “What can I say? It's a sorry day when a man has to admit he's losin' it. Especially where that particular lady is concerned. She is one fine woman.”

  “That's the truth.” Tommy leaned his elbows on the mahogany counter. “Strange, though. She gave me the impression she might have more than a passing interest in you.”

  “Really?” Coop shrugged, hoping his satisfaction at the man's words didn't show. “Guess she must have changed her mind.”

  The other man pulled his Fu Manchu thoughtfully. “Well, you never know. You seem like a nice young fella—even if you do need a haircut. I'll put in a good word for you.”

  Heading for the door, Coop waved. “Appreciate that. And me thinking you were going to organize a lynch mob.” He lifted the bag in farewell and walked out before Tommy could react with more than the frown that suddenly creased his face.

  As Coop hurried to the alley next to Tommy's where he’d left the Indian, he saw two men in a gray compact drive into Fuller's and park close to Maggie's Yamaha. She backed away nervously when one of the men got out of the car.

  Coop thrust his purchase under the bungee cord behind him and jumped on the bike, ready to race to her assistance.

  The man from the sedan fingered the Yamaha's fender and made a comment, then continued on inside the mini mart. Maggie quickly mounted and drove off.

  Easing the Indian out from the alley, Coop followed. He glanced at his watch and noted the time. He'd have to ask Jack to check with his contact at the phone company and find out who she called.

  He pulled over when she turned onto the service road leading to the tower, thought for a minute, then he did a U-turn and drove back to the village. After making a few quick stops—including the house of one of the old men he'd met earlier in the park—he drove back and parked under the tower. Before he turned off the engine, he honked the horn and looked expectantly up at the tower's catwalk.

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Thirty-Six

  Up in the cab, Maggie held her breath when she heard Cooper below.

  “Hey, neighbor!” he called up to her.

  She reluctantly went out and stuck her head over the side above him. “What?”

  She watched as he took off his helmet and slid from the bike. He held up a string of trout before dropping it in a plastic bag.

  “How about some dinner later? I got more than I can eat.”

  She leaned her elbows on the wooden railing and looked down at him. She didn't want to get within fifty feet of the man,
let alone eat dinner with him. “Nice of you to ask, Cooper,” she called down. “But I think I'll pass.”

  He picked up his Stetson from a rock where he'd left it earlier, and slowly swatted the dust off the crown. “What's the matter, pup? Don't care for trout?”

  She rested her chin in her hand and regarded him. “I love trout.”

  He caressed the hat into place on his head, then looked up. “Ah. So, it's me you don't care for.”

  “Didn't say that.”

  He fisted one hand on a hip. “Don't you trust me?”

  She cracked a smile, gazing straight down on him. “About as far as I can spit.” Seeing him squint up in alarm, she laughed.

  “Don't get any ideas.” Cooper pulled the brim of his hat farther over his eyes. “Tell you what. How 'bout if I promise not to kiss you again?”

  She shot him a withering look. “Nice try, cowboy.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Okay, I get it. It's yourself you don't trust.”

  Her jaw dropped. Of all the conceited— “Don't flatter yourself, Cooper.”

  “Uh-huh.” He hiked a rolled-up brown bag from the back of the bike onto his lean hip, lifted the trout, and ambled toward the path. “Well, if I'm feeling magnanimous later, maybe I'll bring you up a plate,” he called over his shoulder.

  “I don't need you to feed me, Wolf,” she shouted after him, but he had already disappeared into the forest.

  She stared at the path for a moment, then scrubbed her face with her hands. Damn, she hated that.

  He was unbelievably vain and arrogant. He was smug, conceited, cocky, impudent, insolent, and impertinent.

  And, unfortunately, he was right.

  Lord, she hated that.

  It was true, she couldn't trust herself around him. Just being within sight of the man seemed to render her totally brain dead. No doubt, if she had dinner with him she would do something really stupid. Like tell him about the battery. Or something even dumber, like confess why she actually liked him close by—to protect her. Or something supremely idiotic, like sleep with the man.

  She groaned. No, she didn't trust herself around him. Not one damn bit.

  She went back into the cab and dropped onto her narrow bed.

  And what about that insane dream she'd had? How had he managed to infiltrate her subconscious so deeply that it came out in such a strange, frightening dream? With everything that had happened today, she hadn't had a chance to think about it much, but now the memory of the dream flowed through her, filling her with the same potent feelings of desire for the Cree warrior and his arrow as she'd experienced as a caribou.

  Holy cannoli. She'd had erotic dreams before...but this was completely different. She had ached for him; she’d longed for his arrow to set her spirit free. Free to soar. Free to fly to...

  To where?

  Unnerved, she grabbed the book on her nightstand. She had to stop thinking about it. About him.

  Somehow, she managed to become totally immersed in the novel, and lost herself in reading. Suddenly, she was distracted by the call of an unfamiliar bird outside. She glanced at the clock and saw that hours had gone by. Good grief. It was well past dinner time.

  Bird call, nothing. It was probably her stomach crying for attention.

  Then she heard it again. Plaintiff, but shrill. And persistent.

  Remind her of anyone?

  She went out on the deck and looked around. The call came again, from below the tower. She leaned over the rail and saw Cooper standing by the pylon, plate in hand.

  “Sorry, couldn't resist.” He gave one last whistle for good measure. “Didn't want to arrive unannounced. Shall I come up, or do you want to come down and fetch it?” He hoisted the plate up and down on his palm.

  She ran a hand over her hair. My God, he'd been serious. No way did she want him up in her cab.

  “I'll come down.”

  When she got to the bottom and saw the aluminum camp plate he held out to her containing a five-star meal of trout, vegetables, and fry-bread, her mouth watered. “Cooper, It looks wonderful! Thank you. I don't know what to say.”

  He cocked a hip. “Say that next time I ask you to dinner, you'll come.” His voice held just the barest edge of irritation.

  She quickly scanned his face. It betrayed none of the anger she suspected lurked behind it. Evidently, he had plotted a dinner for two and she had spoiled his plans. Her skin prickled. What ordeals had she spared herself by declining?

  Or pleasures...?

  Her gaze dropped for a split second to his lips, then landed nervously on the plate he handed her. “You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble.” She forced a lighthearted smile. “But I'll enjoy every bite. I'm starving.”

  He took a step toward her. “Well, I'm off to Gina's. Feel like coming?”

  She retreated and shook her head. “Not tonight. Besides, I haven't eaten yet.” She tried to ward off the sudden chills that ran up and down her body.

  Taking his gloves out of his back pocket, he slowly pulled them on. The edge in his voice sharpened just a shade. “I can wait.”

  “No. You go ahead.” She took another step backward and bumped up against the truck.

  “Why is it I get the feeling you're avoiding me?” He closed the distance, leaving just the width of the plate between them.

  “Why would I do that?” she asked breathlessly, knowing full well they both knew the answer.

  He took the plate from her and carefully set it on the truck's roof, his body lightly brushing hers. Then he reached out and traced her jaw with his gloved fingers, all the way to the back of her neck. “Maybe because you are afraid of this.”

  His face slanted over hers and hesitated. The fine hairs on her cheek tingled seconds before their skin touched. The tip of his tongue glided up the bow of her lip, then retreated.

  Oh, God.

  She whispered a final supplication before the explosion she knew was inevitable.

  “Oh, God, Wolf.”

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Cooper's lips hovered over hers, and his one spoken word jolted her senseless.

  “Open,” he demanded softly.

  She trembled violently between the cold metal of the truck and the solid fire of his body. She swallowed. And obeyed.

  Then his tongue was inside her mouth. All over. Searing, drenching, plundering, taking.

  She moaned, unable to fight it any longer, surrendering, bunching the anchor of his shirt in powerless fists. Finding exquisite pleasure in the raw, primitive need to yield beneath his masculine power.

  She was instantly lost in his long, burning kiss. His fingers kneaded the back of her neck, holding her tight as the textures of their tongues clashed and blended. His other hand roamed the edges of her body, testing, withdrawing, probing, receding.

  Coveting.

  His mouth broke contact, leaving them both gasping for breath. He dove in from the other direction, mounting her lips, joining them, surrounding them. His hands slipped down to her backside. He bent his knees slightly and lifted her between them, grinding her close, center to center, for an eternity. She awoke to the long hard length of him pressing imploringly into her.

  Their lips parted, panting for air, swollen with passion. He eased her down and she leaned back on the truck to support her liquid knees. She felt one of his hands settle quietly on the glass and metal beside her ear.

  “Before I go, there's just one thing I'd like you to know.” He stroked down the column of her throat with a buttery soft glove.

  She rested her leaden head back against the door frame. She couldn't sort through the gamut of emotions raging inside her—need, desire, terror—she could only feel that glove.

  “Wha...?” Her eyes fluttered closed.

  A smooth point of leather followed the movement of her throat as she swallowed, then alighted whisper-soft on the pulse that throbbed out of control in the hollow above her collar bone.

  Her lips parted involuntarily
.

  The point tensed, then skipped up to her chin. It pulled down ever-so-lightly, opening her mouth just a shade more.

  “Wh...”

  The dusky scents of man and woman, fear and desire mingled in her nostrils, impossibly erotic. She longed to feel that glove slide over her bare skin.

  He stood close to her and whispered in her ear, as though whispering endearments. “I know you were there. At the kill site.” The glove traced slowly along her lower lip. “I saw you.”

  Wait. Her eyes squeezed shut. What was he saying...?

  She tried to ignore the sensual feelings and emotions that were paralyzing her determination to push his hand away. She fought to get her brain to work again.

  He continued to move his finger over her mouth. “I could force you to talk, make you tell me what I want to know, where that evidence you took is.”

  God. He had seen her.

  The feeling she’d had at the kill site, that someone was watching her—she’d been right. She’d felt him, even back then, even before they’d met.

  She tried to lick her parched lips. Her tongue collided with leather, lingered for a brief moment, and tasted danger.

  His glove slid down her arm to fasten on her quivering wrist. His body pressed hard against hers, menacing and arousing at the same time. Her knees were so weak, if he weren't crushing her against the truck she would slide right down to the ground.

  “But I won't,” he murmured. “I'm not into forcing women. Not even to tell me the truth.” He reached up behind her and gathered her hair into his hand, wrapping it around his palm until her head was pulled back, her face tilted up to his. “I'm going to wait until you come to me, all by yourself.” He stroked along her cheek with his lips. “I'm a very patient man.”

  “And wh— What if I don't?” she heard herself ask.

  He said quietly, “I'll be watching every move you make, little pup. Or...maybe I should ask your friend, Dinny? Should I do that, Maggie?”

  “No!” Her eyes flew open in a panic and met his simmering, heavy gaze. “No.”