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

  “Lighting a fire.”

  “Wolf, I don't think—”

  He decided to take pity on her. Sort of. “Don't worry, baby. If I were thinking along the lines you’re thinking, I'd bring a hell of a lot more than one.”

  Which, of course, he had. In the fishing creel, along with his Glock.

  She looked like she was counting to ten. “Have I mentioned lately how obnoxious you are?”

  “Let's get out of here,” he said, grabbing the gear. “I suddenly feel the need to stand up to my waist in cold water.”

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Fifty-One

  He was baiting her.

  Deliberately. With malice aforethought.

  Maggie glanced out at Cooper’s graceful form in the river eloquently whipping the line back and forth over his head, the end barely skipping over the surface, until it finally came to rest and floated slowly downstream.

  After the first hour, he had stripped off his vest and shirt in the late morning heat. He now stood in the water, his wet, naked torso rising from his waders, subtly flexing his well-defined muscles under the thin guise of casting. A faint breeze ruffled the end of the raven braid falling over his broad, sundrenched shoulder.

  Maggie was burning up—and it wasn't because of the damn sun.

  She scowled and tried again to read the paragraph she'd been working on for over half an hour.

  It was no use. She had to get away from this walking candy store.

  She flopped over in annoyance and lay on her stomach, resting her cheek against the cool, moist earth of the river bank. Letting the book slip from her hands, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. The soft gurgling of the river drifted over her, along with the wind rustling in the pines. In the distance, a mountain jay chattered.

  She felt connected to the ground below her cheek, and through that link she could feel a low current flowing into her, warm and comforting, almost as if the earth itself was filling her with its calm strength. She ran her fingers through the long strands of grass growing around where she lay, and breathed deeply of the meadow perfume. It had a spicy, herbal, dusky odor.

  She inhaled again, smiling in enjoyment of the powerfully sensual experience. Her nostrils flared slightly at the heady, almost masculine scent. Opening her eyes, she focused slowly.

  Cooper was watching her, lounging not two feet away. His discarded waders half-floated in the shallow water below them. “Sure you don't want to try it?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “You make it seem so simple, but I know damn well it's hard.”

  Stifling a chuckle, he turned on his side to face her and propped his head on one hand, the other toying with his bear claw necklace. A devilish smile crept onto his lips. “Nah. You just hold that rod in your hand and stroke it on down. The rest just follows naturally.”

  Her lips twitched. “Careful, rod man. Better check your fly. I think it's coming undone.”

  “Mmm. Best you grab it before the big one gets away.”

  She cracked a smile, then rested her chin in a fist and gazed at the river. “I don't think so. I've seen your lures. With that equipment, you could catch anything you set your sights on. But the hook’s too sharp for me.”

  Sliding closer to her, he reached out and drew a finger around her ear, pushing a couple of errant hairs behind it. “It’ll go in smooth as velvet, with plenty of line. For sure, the fish will enjoy the rod play as much as the fisherman.”

  She closed her eyes and fought the fires flaring deep in her center. Her blood chanted loudly in her ears. It would be so easy to roll onto her back and reach out for him.

  But no. She wouldn't give in. Couldn't give in. “I don't believe in catching wild creatures. They should be free to live as they like.”

  He withdrew his hand and turned to face the sky. “Well, now. That could be a problem. I like to keep what I catch.” A lazy smile oozed into his voice. “Rub it in oil. Heat it up nice and slow, and then put it on my tongue and sink my te—”

  Her eyes sprang open. “Wolf! If you're hungry, how about some lunch?”

  She could see the sun's heat radiating off his skin, but it was easy to imagine it was from the heat of their conversation.

  “Not what I had in mind.”

  Oh, she knew exactly what he had in mind. The memory blazed through her body of his intimate description that morning. Along with that condom in his back pocket.

  She could feel her resolve slipping dangerously low.

  She yanked it back up. “Gina's, then?” she asked.

  His resigned sigh floated away with the breeze. “Ah, Maggie. You sorely test a man.”

  She smiled weakly. “I do my best.”

  He sat up. “How about a nice, cold swim?”

  Gazing wistfully at the water, she sat up, too. “I didn't bring a suit.”

  He grinned incorrigibly. “Neither did I. Hey, you've already seen my lures, right?” With a laugh, he stood up and started to unfasten his jeans.

  Good Lord in heaven. He'd do it, too.

  She leapt to her feet and grabbed his wrist. “No, wait!” A lump in her throat nearly blocked her breath. “You stay and have your swim. I've got to get back to work.” His skin was burning hot under her fingers. “Thanks for a wonderful morning.” She saw disappointment in his eyes, but not surprise. She slipped her hand down over his. “Coop, I— I really wish things were different.”

  He grasped her fingers and pulled them up to his lips. He held her gaze as he kissed them one by one.

  She felt herself float into the dark recesses of his eyes, as if she were a wisp of smoke drifting out into the great expanse of night sky. There was a whole universe out there in his eyes, calling her, pulling her in.

  She closed her own against the intensity of the vision.

  He kissed her palm, and said gently, “Yeah. Me too.”

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Fifty-Two

  Coop waited until Maggie disappeared around the bend in the river before he ripped off his jeans and jumped into the icy water.

  This whole situation was ludicrous. He wanted her in the worst way...and in the best way. But he wanted her to come to him of her own free will. No blackmail. No smoking. No seduction.

  But he had lied—he was not patient. He was so damned impatient it was killing him.

  When had that ever happened to him? He’d always been so cool and unflappable—up until these past few days. Hell, he could normally sit stakeout for weeks without getting antsy. And here he was, unable to last three days without going into a tailspin over a woman.

  He was totally losing it.

  He shook the water from his hair after dunking his head back in the river. Why was he putting himself through this torture? Regardless of her protestations of innocence, she was still a suspect. She was hiding things from him. Lying to him.

  How could he want someone like that?

  Even if she turned out not to be involved in the poaching, she obviously didn't trust him. Not with her body. Not with her secrets—whatever they were.

  Nimosom had once told him, “If you want something and it alludes you, you must become what it wants.”

  Coop had always found a way to follow that advice. It’s what made him so good undercover. But, once again, he was being frustrated by this case and this woman. He was sure if he could just crack one or the other, the whole house of cards would tumble.

  Well, tonight was the Wilkins barbecue. He would watch her carefully, and hope the poachers would be there, too...and that he would be able to identify them. With or without her help.

  If that didn't work, maybe he should just cry uncle, call Jack, and turn the whole damned case over to him.

  Hell. He must really have it bad, even to consider resigning a case over a woman. What was his world coming to?

  He got out of the freezing water, hiked back upstream, and shivered on the riverbank until the sun warmed and dried him. Stretching out, pulled out some fruit and a couple of pieces of buffalo jerky to munch o
n. The grass wafted gently back and forth around him as he basked naked in the warm sun.

  And thought, damn, there was only one thing missing to make this a perfect moment.

  Or rather...one person.

  And didn’t that just suck.

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Fifty-Three

  Maggie shaded her eyes against the sun and peered up the tree-covered hillside. She was making her way back to the lookout tower along the riverbank she and Cooper had come by earlier that morning. She’d just heard an odd noise.

  Where was it coming from? She walked slowly, searching the hillside.

  Okay, so she didn’t really need to get back to work right away. That had been a slight exaggeration. All right, a bald-faced lie. What she had needed was to escape from the powerful temptation Cooper had been dangling in front of her. He’d been merciless in his flirting, flaunting his naked torso, flexing his corded muscles, branding her with sensual looks.

  What had brought about the change? True, he had kissed her last night. A carnal, heart-stopping kiss. But it had not been a kiss designed to entice her to his bed. Rather, it had seemed almost like a threat, showing her how powerful he was, how easily he could control her, should he feel the need to. And then he had demonstrated just how capable of controlling her he really was, by smoking her. That had been the scariest, most bizarre experience of her life.

  But hallucination or not, it had shown her the amazing possibility for love between them, and what it could be like.

  Today, he’d wanted her in a whole different way, and had told her so in breathtaking terms. But at the same time, he had put her in control of what happened between them.

  Which only made the temptation twice as great.

  The noise from up on the hillside reached her again, louder this time. It sounded like a small rockslide made by something—or someone—crawling along the top of the ridge.

  Her pulse quickened. Something felt wrong. She felt exposed and vulnerable. Had the guy from the blue sedan found her?

  She stopped, looking around for somewhere to hide. A short way up the hill were some large boulders. She ran up and hid behind them. For several minutes, nothing happened. Had she imagined it?

  Then, above her, a small stream of gravel clattered down a dry gully. The sound seemed to be coming from the direction toward the tower. Pushing aside her apprehension, she decided to cautiously investigate the noise. Maybe it was just an animal foraging for food. But if it was someone heading for the lookout, she wanted an advance warning.

  She was breathing hard by the time she’d sneaked to the top of the hill. On her stomach, she crawled up the rocky ridge crest and looked over, scanning the sparsely wooded ravine below for a sign that someone was there.

  A movement on the other side caught her eye. For a split second, she saw the upper half of a dark figure silhouetted against the sun. As the shadow dropped below the opposite ridge, the outline of the man’s dark braid flicked in the sun. Her skin prickled with unease as she recognized Cooper's favorite hairstyle.

  Blue sedan guy had short hair. Definitely no ponytail.

  Was it Cooper over there? What could he be doing?

  Ignoring the inner warning, she hoisted herself off the stony crest and began making her way down the ravine as quietly as possible, keeping an eye on the opposite ridge. She had to find out.

  When she reached the dry, rocky bottom of the wash, she shaded her eyes with a hand and looked up the slope to find the easiest way to the top. A flash of light blinded her, and she hastily looked away, pressing her fingers to her eyes.

  She opened them carefully, and looked down at the ground until the sensitivity passed. What she saw when her full vision returned made her insides explode in panic.

  Lying coiled right next to her foot was a huge rattlesnake. Small black eyes gazed languidly up at her. The snake's rattles rested silently on one fat coil, its head lazily on another. A forked tongue shot out of its mouth, testing the air.

  Ohgod-ohgod-ohgod.

  She was a dead woman.

  She held her breath, adrenalin screaming through her veins.

  She and the rattler stared at each other for a good minute, until finally the reptile’s second eyelids slid down to glaze its eyes. She could almost see it relax, occasionally darting its tongue out and in.

  What the hell did she do now?

  Casting an anxious glance up the hill to where the figure had disappeared, she knew she had to go soon or she would lose him for good.

  For the first time in her life, she was grateful for the countless PBS science programs, museums, and wildlife exhibits her parents had made her squirm through. Rattlesnake bites were almost never fatal, she told herself. You just had to stay put, and not walk around after being bitten, she told herself. The old bugger looked too comfortable to bother with her, anyway.

  She glanced at the ridge again. Okay, she'd risk it.

  Excruciatingly slowly, she lifted a foot and moved it to one side. The snake propped open a lid and gave her a cursory glance, then resumed its slumber. With a silent sigh of relief, she moved her other foot.

  After a few more careful steps, she turned to make her escape. And nearly fainted when she saw two more snakes coiled in her path, with broad heads and distinctive diamond markings.

  Damn it! Squeezing her eyes shut, she sent up a silent prayer, then opened them and looked around.

  She was surrounded by the damn things. She stopped counting at eight. She honestly didn’t want to know.

  A fly buzzed around her head, driving her nuts wanting to swat at it. But she didn’t dare. Standing with her legs perfectly still, she slowly covered her face with trembling hands.

  She hated snakes.

  She just hated them.

  She knew she had to move eventually, but couldn’t make herself do it. Not yet.

  A terrible thought sifted through her mind. Had it been Cooper she’d seen? Had he really walked right through the middle of this snake pit? Had he done it deliberately, knowing she was following him? Knowing he’d be leading her to a terrible fate?

  No.

  He was one of the good guys. And she'd told him everything he wanted to know. Why would he do something like this? He wouldn’t.

  She forced her shaking hands to her sides and scouted out a route that put the maximum possible space between her and the nearest reptiles.

  Curling her fists into tight balls, she took a deep breath. And a cautious step.

  None of the rattlers moved.

  Another step. Still they were placid.

  Slowly but surely, she moved past the closest snakes.

  “That's right, just keep coming toward me,” a man's voice said directly in front of her.

  She glanced up lightning fast to see who had spoken. He was tall and lean with sand-colored curls.

  “Rollo!”

  His green eyes were filled with concern. They were fastened on her sneakers.

  She hesitated, sizing up her new situation. There was no reason to believe Rollo had anything to do with leading her into this predicament. Certainly, he didn't have a long braid. She was safe with Rollo.

  She moved carefully onward, until she was a few yards away from him, with only one rattler left to pass. He took a step forward and held out his hand.

  Abandoning all caution she reached for it, and he dragged her swiftly into his arms and away from danger.

  “Oh, my God. Thank you!” she cried into his shoulder.

  He carried her a couple dozen yards, then set her down. “You’re okay. No more snakes here.”

  The adrenaline crashed, and she collapsed against him. “I’ve n-never seen so m-many in my life!” she stammered.

  Holding her tightly to his broad chest, he soothed her with strong fingers. “It’s over. I’ve got you now.”

  Barely Dangerous: Chapter Fifty-Four

  Reaching the crest of the ridge, Coop looked down into the ravine. He’d been making his way back to camp when he’d seen a br
ight flash of light that didn’t belong up here. His instincts had gone into overdrive, so he’d stashed his gear and come up to investigate.

  What he saw now made his blood run cold.

  His woman, in the arms of another man.

  He stood for a moment and watched the touching scenario, his jaw set, his muscles tense. He wanted to leap down on the man and rip his damn throat out.

  Possessiveness twisted and tore in his chest, clouding his vision. She was his! He would not share her. He'd kill the bastard before letting him have her.

  He took a running step toward them, then stopped.

  What the hell was he doing?

  He turned quickly, and retreated quietly down the hill to the river. This was the last fucking time he was listening to his goddamn instincts. Crouching there, he glared at the swirling water until the unfamiliar, unwanted emotions were gone, and he had regained his composure. Some of it, anyway.

  For the second time in as many days, his control had been at the snapping point.

  He must be going windigo.

  He needed to calm down, and get his head back in the game. Think like an investigator, not like a jilted lover.

  Who was that guy? And why was Maggie meeting him?

  When he was sure it was Blue Wolf who guided his actions and not the evil windigo spirit, Coop retraced his steps over the hill and into the ravine, seeking out the spot where his woman had stood with the man. He knelt down and examined the footprints. Her sneakers had been bent, heels up, as the man held her to him. The man's prints were of a distinctive hiking boot pattern—but not the ones Coop and Jack had found at the kill site. Too bad.

  On the other hand, the tread was very sharp—a sure sign of new boots.

  It was then he noticed the rattler in front of him. Then another, and another.

  Dreamers!

  His grandfather said, because snakes and bears are asleep for much of their lives, they are the bringers of dreams.

  The ravine was full of them, coiled up to either side of a trail of sneaker prints. Apparently, they had let Maggie pick her way through them without protest.