Code Name_War 0f Stones

by Natasza Waters

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, urging Sloane to wait outside.

  “You might need this.” She reached in the pocket of the jacket and handed him a small pen light.

  “Thanks, check those pockets to see what else is in there.”

  “I’ll do that while you make sure there’s no snakes in that cave.”

  “Have an aversion to reptiles do you?” he asked, pulling the brush hiding the entrance, aside.

  “No, just things with fangs.”

  A quick search assured him no critters used the shallow cave for a home. He reached a hand out the opening, and she forked her fingers through his. The cave wasn’t deep, but it was dry and the ground sandy. Far better than sleeping on jagged rocks.

  “Get some sleep, if you can.” When he turned, Sloane slid the jacket off her shoulders and laid it on the ground. Her hourglass silhouette set off a pulse-pounding erection between his legs. She was right, he was combusting. A safer place for him would be at the cave entrance to keep watch and put some distance between them. “How are your feet?”

  “They hurt,” she said honestly, sitting on the jacket.

  He shone the light at the bottoms of her soles. A network of cuts covered her feet, but she hadn’t said a word.

  Sloane piled what she’d found in the pockets of the jacket onto the sand beside her. Thank God for small miracles he thought, flashing the light across the issued essentials. A sting stick lay amongst the items. He popped it open as he knelt at her feet, keeping his attention firmly attached to her legs. “It might sting. Relax,” he ordered.

  Adjusting her ass on the jacket, she stared at him. He avoided eye contact as he wrapped his hand around her ankle and drew her slender foot onto his thigh. Gently, he covered her soles, trying to ignore her hiss of pain.

  “Let’s see yours,” she said, swiveling around when he finished.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Right, I forgot. SEALs are real men, they don’t need help,” she said tightly.

  “No.” Damon choked on the short word, making the mistake of turning his gaze on her beautiful breasts, hanging full and so fucking seductively touchable. The woman didn’t show an ounce of shyness sitting naked in front of him.

  A groan escaped. If he had to weave clothes out of bush material he’d do it, because he couldn’t stand this much longer.

  Sloane pulled the tube of medication from his fingers and rolled it across his soles, peering up at him with those beautiful eyes of hers. She fanned his feet with her hand. For one tense moment they gazed at each other, barely visible but for the small stream of moonlight seeping into the cave.

  A slow, shuddering need built inside him, rolling like thunder through a dark sky. If he didn’t move away from her—“I’ll watch at the entrance.”

  He jumped up and double-timed his steps to put distance between himself and making a huge mistake. At least he thought he had, until he turned and she stood right behind him.

  She cocked her head, her gaze unwavering. “As tired as I am, I can’t sleep.”

  “Try,” he gruffed, wishing like hell he could shield himself against the raw desire firing through his blood. Think of the wanted poster her father would put on his head if the Admiral knew what he was thinking. When she placed a warm palm on his abdomen, his muscles clenched tight. Just a little lower and her soft fingers could wrap around his shaft. He glared at her, but she read his expression incorrectly.

  Sloane backed away and bowed her head. “Where do we go from here?”

  Enough talking without words. “How about cutting me a break and putting that jacket back on.”

  “What?” she asked, her head popping up with surprise.

  “I—I. Full disclosure.” He swallowed. “Your body—I want you to cover yourself. I’m not saying this is your fault. I’m not insinuating a thing. I just need you to go back in there and get some rest. Will you do that without argument or holding it against me for the next eight hours?”

  Her long, dark lashes whisked against her cheeks. “Of course,” she said, her voice sharper than normal, and she turned away from him abruptly.

  Ah, shit.

  With her shoulders straight and her stature stiff, she walked away, absorbed into the darkness until he couldn’t see her. His heart weighed heavy. If it weren’t for his rampaging hard-on, he could appreciate her naked perfection. She reminded him of something mystical. As if she belonged here. A part of Mother Nature’s creation. Unfortunately, what broiled beneath his skin was akin to a predator. He wanted to strip the last piece of clothing from his body, hook his hands beneath her thighs, slide her up his erection and stroke her with his cock until they both found God.

  Grinding his jaw together, Damon turned and crossed his arms. He scanned the trees. Listened to an owl hooting nearby. Slowly, the roar of desire for the woman he’d harshly pushed away with his words, subsided.

  The problem was he saw her as a woman. Not a girl. He craved what Randy Washington already claimed. He shook his head in disbelief. She’d paid for his services. Fucking crazy as it was. All she had to do was curl her finger and every hot-blooded man would respond. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

  Every hot-blooded man but him.

  How many missions had he completed by plucking a woman from the clutches of some sadist or tyrannical group? More than he could count on both hands. Diplomats, reporters, tourists. Some of them had even tracked him down after they made it safely back to the States. He appreciated their gratitude, but never crossed the line. Sloane was his partner. End of story.

  The moon slid a little farther across the horizon before he dared check on her. He expected to find her asleep, but instead when he darted the light over the area, he saw her sitting, her back against the wall of the cave, her knees bent. She rolled a yellow Bic lighter back and forth from palm to palm while staring into the darkness. He flicked off the pen light and slid down the wall to sit beside her.

  “Are you cold?” Damon asked. She hadn’t put the jacket on because she had two options. Either she covered her skin or sat bare-assed in the sand. He couldn’t blame her for her decision.

  “No.”

  “Sloane, I want to get you home in one piece. The exercise is over. This is a mission now. As fucked up as it is, it’s a mission to keep you safe.”

  Silence returned and he let it drag on, not knowing what else to say.

  “Dad won the Medal of Honor too.”

  Not what he was expecting. She must have seen the medal on his uniform. “Got mine a few years ago. A mission to Masyaf.”

  “You were there? In 2035?”

  He sighed. “Yeah.”

  “You must have done something above and beyond to earn that medal.”

  He shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. “I suppose I did.”

  “I used to pin Dad’s medals on my Barbie dolls. Mom freaked out, but Dad just laughed.”

  He chuckled. “As good a place for them as any. They only collect dust sitting in a presentation box.”

  Sloane adjusted her position and he sensed she had turned toward him. “Your parents must have been proud of you.”

  “They were. Because of our operations it wasn’t a public presentation, but they were allowed to attend.” He cleared his throat. “That’s when I actually met your father face-to-face for the first time. I’d heard about him. Seen him from a distance a few times, but it wasn’t till that day that I shook his hand. He accompanied the President to present the medal.”

  She hissed like a tire losing air. “No wonder he likes you.”

  A smile she couldn’t see rippled across his lips. “Good to know.” The day caught up with him and sleep taunted him to close his eyes, but he fought the urge. “Try to get some rest. I’m going back to the entrance.”

  “Face down on the ground,” a voice commanded.

  Damon jumped to his feet in front of Sloane, before she could get to hers.

  What the fuck. Not possible. />
  Two soldiers leveled their weapons at him. “On the ground,” they yelled in unison.

  The sound of chopper blades filled the cave. Reinforcements were almost there.

  “Easy men, just put those weapons down before you kill one of us.” Neither soldier did as he asked. Would they actually pull the trigger?

  Sloane sensed his plan, and she tried to grab his hip to stop him.

  Too late.

  The cave’s darkness gave him the upper-hand he’d lose in a second when their eyes became accustomed to the lack of light. Damon had both guys by the throat with two steps, and smashed their heads together. Both dropped like rocks. Good thing these lazy bastards were sloppy. No SEAL would go on a mission without being fully geared, including head protection.

  Sloane quickly gathered their pile of items and rammed them into the pockets of the jacket, then swiftly threw her arms into the sleeves. He yanked the pants from one of the soldiers. They exited the cave a couple minutes later. Damon scanned their escape route at the entrance, moving to the left for a barrier of trees to conceal them.

  The chopper hovered less than a hundred feet away. A dozen men prepared to drop to the ground. Quickly, he and Sloane kept low and out of sight. Damon had both weapons from the soldiers and if he had to, he’d kill whoever got close. Sloane jumped from rock to rock like a gazelle, crossing a dry riverbed. He thanked God for her reserve of energy.

  They reached the overgrowth and trekked eastward. The soldiers followed but the sound of breaking brush and their pursuer’s feet on the rough ground diminished. He and Sloane both needed water and soon. The closest reserve was at least two kilometers away.

  Neither spoke while they kept a fast pace, but his mind kept calculating. How did the General’s men find them? They didn’t have dogs.

  Damon stopped and listened. Sloane halted as well, turning toward him.

  “Sloane?”

  “What?” she said, taking the opportunity to catch her breath.

  It was too farfetched, but there was no other explanation for it. “Did they inoculate you while we were separated?”

  Her eyes widened. “Yes, how did you know?”

  His chin dropped to his chest. “Goddamn.”

  “What’s wrong?” Her hand slid across his bare chest, beneath the jacket he’d taken off one of the men.

  Although his pulse increased with her touch, his mind remained on target. “We can’t outrun them.”

  “Why not, we’re doing a pretty damn good job of it.”

  “There’s only one way they could have known where we were. They put a tracking device in you. Probably all of you.”

  “What? Oh my God,” she bleated, stepping away from him. “Leave me. Bring help back.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? You have to.”

  “Which arm?”

  She understood what he was asking and why. Swallowing deeply, she dug into the left pocket of her jacket with determination, pulling out a tightly rolled bandage, then slipped the jacket from her shoulder.

  Turning to her side, she pointed. “Here.”

  Those damn things were so fucking small, it would be a wonder if he could find it.

  “Hold your breath.” He pressed down hard and slowly fingered her skin. A tiny bump. It could be her, or it could be the device. “Are you sure?” he asked, pulling the knife from his pants pocket.

  She nodded sharply, and turned her head away.

  Damon didn’t hesitate, puncturing her soft skin on one side of the bump. Sloane sucked in her breath and muffled a cry. He held the flashlight in his mouth and aimed it at the open flesh. Blood seeped out, and he pressed his finger against the bulge.

  “Jackpot!” He squeezed the device out of the tiny opening.

  She pressed her lips together, but the cry stirred in her throat. He did his damnedest to forget the pain he was causing her.

  He flicked the tiny tracking device to the ground and took the bandage from her fingers, winding it tightly around her arm.

  Sweat covered Sloane’s forehead, and he leaned over and kissed her. “You’re one helluva woman, you know that?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Positive energy swarmed him. Thirsty, but rejuvenated to keep moving. The tables just turned, and they had the upper hand.

  Damon pushed them the two kilometers toward the small river bed he knew surfaced from the rocks and trickled into a small holding pool. If the General’s men were smart they’d already be there, anticipating their need for water. He and Sloane would approach cautiously. If it was all clear, they’d have won another victory.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Damon kept them under cover for what seemed forever. The sound of fresh running water made Sloane’s thirst ten times as bad. Her mouth, drier than the Sahara, gave going stir crazy a fighting chance for grand prize.

  He swiveled on his haunches and leaned into her. “I think it’s clear, but I’m going first. Any sign of trouble, you head east. The highway’s in that direction. Travel at night and stay under tree cover as much as you can.”

  Sloane nodded and hunkered down behind a cluster of rocks. He disappeared from sight within seconds, slipping into the darkness. How the hell a man his size did that was pretty incredible.

  She waited until she heard his signal, then used the same careful approach he did. The stream burbled a few feet away. She fell to her knees in the cold fresh water and drank deeply.

  “Easy,” he warned. “I know you want to gulp it down, but you can’t. Let your body acclimatize.

  She swayed back on her haunches, allowing the water to cool her skin. The jacket fell open and Damon’s eyes seared her, settling on her breasts.

  “I know. Close the jacket,” she drawled, as her energy returned.

  Sitting on his haunches, the water washing around his shins, he said nothing. The peaceful quiet mixed with his gaze stirred the air between them into friction. Damon took a panther-like crawl toward her. The man had an appetite he stubbornly refused to quench, but he came at her like she was the last meal left on the planet, and it made her stomach clench with anticipation.

  He’d removed the jacket taken from the soldier he’d so efficiently overpowered. His shoulders flexed like malleable marble with his approach. Pecs bulged and rolled into powerful abs. The kind that made a woman glad she was born a woman.

  Caught in the heat of his eyes, shivering with anticipation, or maybe impending rejection, she whispered, “Please. Take away his touch. I can’t get it out of my head.”

  Damon swallowed thickly. Then, slowly, he wound her in his thick arms. “And you want mine instead?”

  She nodded. Suddenly she understood the phrase, staring helplessly. His full lips hovered within an inch of her mouth.

  Damon closed his eyes for a moment then pulled back. “Let’s get some rest.”

  She gnawed on her bottom lip with indecision. A man like Damon was complicated. If she lured him with sex, and he failed to resist, he’d be angry with himself. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “Don’t apologize, Sloane.” He drew her hand into his and led her to an area with a sprinkling of moss to soften the ground. Damon laid out her jacket then sat beside her and curled her under his arm.

  “You’re irresistible,” he said, staring up at the heavens. “It’s no wonder Randy wants to give you a two for one.”

  She didn’t miss the tightness in his voice. Sloane laughed gently. “Are you jealous?”

  “What would you do if I said he’s not getting another dime out of you?”

  The sky had begun to brighten with the sun rising behind the mountains, and the smell of the wilderness invaded her senses. It was peaceful here, and safe. Her gaze strayed to Damon’s strong, rigid jaw darkened by stubble, making him even sexier and rugged than the first time she’d seen him. He smelled of musky man and the forest they’d tramped through.

  “I’d say I’m not a
nun.”

  A grin tightened his cheeks. “You’re such a smart-aleck, aren’t you?”

  “Not really, just saying it as it is.”

  The timbre of Damon’s voice, the aura that bloomed from him, penetrated her every thought, throwing her off balance. Handsome, brave and dangerous to her heart, just like she’d surmised.

  Curling his arm tighter around her shoulders, he tucked her to his side. “How’s this for honesty? A dick like him doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Sure—and who does? I know he’ll be chasing the next swinging skirt that comes along. I’m not stupid.” That’s what SEALs did. She knew that from experience. She’d dated a team member of her brother’s a few years ago. She’d fallen for him, a little, and he’d trounced on her heart.

  “Who was he, Sloane?”

  Her gaze jerked from his. Did all SEALs read minds? “Who?”

  “You know who. The SEAL who took your innocence and then burned you.”

  “Why? Ya gonna beat him up on behalf of my stupidity?”

  “Taking a chance on someone isn’t stupid.”

  Sloane wiggled from his grasp then sat up, gripping one bent knee. “Yes, it is. I knew better. Adam warned me, but I didn’t listen.”

  “So to avoid taking a chance, you let Randy take advantage of you and pretend it’s your choice.”

  “I like variety. Besides, Randy doesn’t charge me full price.”

  Damon enticed her to lay down, his arm a shield between her skin and the cool moss. With one finger under her chin, he raised her face to look at him. “If the gigolo comes near you again, I’ll break him in half and bury him at sea. I saw how he looked at you. He’s considering closing up shop—for you.”

  Sloane didn’t think so, but at least Randy wasn’t military. At thirty-years-old, Damon could decide to go back into combat duty at any time. “Randy’s not a SEAL.”

  “Withdraw your spines, little lady. You’re going to give me two things before we’re done with this mission.”

  She pressed her lips together, watching the smile grow wider on his cocky expression.

  “The word, and your promise you’ll dump that asshole for good.”