Wolf

by Wolf (lit)

  She wondered if gaping at someone and trying to smile at them at the same time looked as dopey as it felt like it did. “Is someone looking this way?” she whispered, trying not to move her lips.

  Instead of responding, he nodded at someone beyond her view and uttered a string of Spanish words that didn’t sound like anything she’d ever heard in Spanish class. The irony that neither Hernandez or Gomez, now part of one of the other groups, could speak Spanish and Cavanaugh could speak it like a native wasn’t lost on her.

  Turning her head, she saw an older man leading a donkey out of town loaded down with baskets. The man stopped, lifted a hand to point and uttered a string of gibberish in response.

  “What was that?”

  “He says there’s a cantina that has rooms for rent upstairs at the other end of town.”

  “Do we really want to say above a cantina?” she asked doubtfully.

  “Not really, but I doubt they have anything else.”

  They were stared at by everyone they passed. It made Sylvie uneasy, but Cavanaugh didn’t seem to be particularly perturbed by it and she did her best to pretend she wasn’t. She was heartily glad, though, when they finally reached the other end of town and found the cantina the man had told them about.

  The rooms, they discovered to their relief, weren’t actually above the cantina. The hotel adjoined it and it seemed likely they’d be able to enjoy the music and fights almost like being there, but Cavanaugh did manage to get a room on the opposite side of the hotel from the bar.

  The room was surprisingly spacious, clean, and furnished well, all things considered. Cavanaugh dropped the bags by the door and headed directly for the bed. Sylvie headed into what she hoped was a bathroom. She was so thrilled to discover it actually was a bathroom she almost felt like weeping with joy. When she’d gotten over her first thrill, she moved from one fixture to the next, testing them.

  “They work!” she exclaimed when she turned around and found Cavanaugh studying her curiously from the bathroom door.

  He chuckled. “Really? We got an actual working bathroom?”

  Sylvie gave him a look, but she was too excited to allow his teasing to spoil her good mood.

  “You didn’t check out the bed. It has a real mattress.”

  “Oh god! A real mattress?” Dashing past him, she raced across the room and dove onto it, laughing when the old-fashioned springs creaked and bounced her upward again like a trampoline. She rolled onto her back, spread eagle to take up the entire bed and smiled blissfully at the ceiling. “Where are you going to sleep?”

  “Right … here!” He leapt at her. Shrieking, she rolled out of his way before he could land on her, laughing.

  “I missed. Damn it!”

  Sylvie grinned up at him. “Like I was going to just lie there and let you squash me like a bug!”

  He grinned back at her and abruptly heaved himself upward and brought his chest down over hers, capturing her wrists. “Now … about that comment you made a while ago ….”

  “Uh oh,” Sylvie said playfully. “Which one?”

  “The one about me looking like a kid.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You implied it.”

  “Just because you’re so cute.”

  He snorted, but she could see a faint tinge of color steal into his cheeks. “I was cute when I was a kid. I might have been cute when I was a boy ….”

  “I know you were. You’re still cu ….”

  He silenced her with his mouth. She saw it coming and she didn’t even try to duck. She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sylvie smiled dreamily, drifting lazily in the aftermath of a fabulous climax. Cavanaugh had really wowed her with his manliness. She was going to have to remember to put him on his metal more often!

  He levered himself up and kissed her smiling lips. “I haven’t seen one of those in a while,” he murmured huskily. “Did I put that there?”

  “Mmmm,” she murmured, unwilling to give up the bliss of floating on her little cloud by making the effort to actually talk.

  “Why don’t you take a nap?”

  The suggestion stirred a hint of uneasiness. “What are you going to do?”

  “Take a walk around town and check things out.”

  She managed to pry one eyelid up. “Recon?”

  “Yeah.”

  She didn’t really want him to, not if there was any chance he could run into trouble. Then again, if trouble ran into him they were liable to be very sorry. “Kiss first,” she murmured. “We’re honeymooning, remember?”

  He kissed her lingeringly. “In that case, maybe you should call me Remy instead of Cavanaugh,” he said a little dryly.

  She chuckled. “Not my fault. I’m just following the leader.”

  “Good point. You’re right. It sounds too military. I’ll mention it to Mac—uh—Cole.”

  Sylvie rolled onto her side and watched him dress. He smiled. “Stop it, woman!”

  “I was just looking,” she said innocently.

  “Yeah, I know. You want to send me out there with all those senoritas sporting a woody?”

  “Good point! Down boy!”

  He chuckled, finished dressing and then bent over the bed, kissing her and fingering her at the same time. “Keep that warm for me,” he said huskily when he straightened.

  “Wash that finger!” she retorted tartly.

  “I don’t think so.” He stopped abruptly when he reached the door, though, apparently having second thoughts. Reversing directions, he headed into the bathroom. “Forgot. I’m supposed to meet Cole and the others after I have a look around. Might not be the best idea to taunt them considering ….”

  It irritated her that he left the sentence hanging to taunt her. Considering what, she wondered? He breezed out before she could ask.

  Relaxing when she heard the lock engaged, she rolled over, cuddled a pillow and sought oblivion. It wasn’t hard to find.

  * * * *

  “We walked from one end of the main street to the other. I hung around the hotel long enough to settle Sylvie and walked back and it had already made the rounds of the grapevine. It’s pretty obvious they don’t see many American tourists this far from the coast.”

  “Fuck!” Mac growled.

  “Well, that shoots that plan to hell and gone,” Hawk said tightly. “What now?”

  Mac shook his head. “Did you pay for two weeks? Or just one?”

  “One. I told them we might stay another week, and that we’d been hiking around the country and wanted to rest a bit.”

  Mac nodded. “I guess it would cause more talk if you left before that. We can’t waltz in. That’s for damned sure. You’re going to have to handle the recon in town—most of it anyway. We may be able to pick up a little chatter, but we’ll have to stay out of sight. Take Sylvie shopping tomorrow. It’s going to be noticeable if she appears in public in the same outfit more than once.” He handed him the shirt and sweats she’d been wearing. “She’ll need to get these laundered and wear them. I know she’s starting to hate the sight of them, but she’s needs them right now. And watch the money! I don’t want to have to roll another drug runner. They make too much of a flap when one goes missing.”

  Cavanaugh took the clothes, but hesitated. “I may have screwed up. There’s at least two that know I can speak the local dialect fluently.”

  Mac sent him a disgusted look. “Try to refrain from trying to impress Sylvie,” he said dryly. “And keep your mind off of your dick.”

  Cavanaugh flushed but he didn’t deny it since there wasn’t a hell of a lot of point in trying. “I’ll be more careful.”

  “It might be too late for that. If they have that good a grapevine, playing dumb now will only make them more suspicious.”

  “I’ll play it by ear.”

  * * * *

  “I caught a conversation outside the cantina tonight that I think you’ll find interesting. T
here’s an operation in a little cove on the east coast just south of Santa Maria run by a guy they call Araña--spider. They pirate boats and use them to traffic drugs to the states and arms back this way for a couple of groups of guerillas,” Beau reported.

  “Sounds like just the ticket we were looking for,” Hawk said, “transport and a retirement plan to bankroll a new start.”

  Mac frowned. “Sounds like a whole lot of hurt if we get sloppy. Before we get too excited, I think we need to head that way and check it out thoroughly. If it looks doable, we’ll move Sylvie to a safe house close enough we can snag her on the run. I doubt anything on that scale could be done quietly. We’ll need to be prepared to move fast.”

  Beau grinned. “Sounds good to me! I’ll be glad to get shed of this place, I can tell you. I’m ‘bout sick of wild pig!”

  “Like I said, don’t get too excited, yet. We still have to check it out. We might end up having to look for a smaller operation to crack. This one sounds pretty well organized,” Mac said dryly. “Hawk, you’ll stay here as a back up for Cavanaugh—try to keep them out of trouble. I’m still hoping we can extract them again and not leave too many ripples in the pond. Beau, you’re coming with me.”

  Hawk’s lips thinned. “Cavanaugh isn’t having any trouble being convincing as a sappy new groom,” he growled.

  Mac’s expression hardened. “Yeah, I noticed. Remind that asshole that she’s supposed to be taking it easy, god damn it!”

  Hawk’s eyes glittered. “I’ll have a little chat with him next time he checks in.”

  Mac studied him thoughtfully. “Just remember to keep the ‘chat’ quiet.”

  * * * *

  Sylvie was having so much fun enjoying ‘civilization’ that they’d been at the Hotel Grande for almost a week before the vague, nagging worry at the back of her mind congealed enough to hit her between the eyes. The scary part was that she still didn’t have any idea what it was, only that something wasn’t right.

  Her belly had swollen up as a warning, she thought, that her menses were upon her and then—nothing. It wasn’t until she actually sat down to try to figure out how long she’d been with the guys that she realized it was the second period that hadn’t happened.

  That was alarming. Occasionally, she would get out of whack and be a little late, usually because of some sort of stress, but she’d never missed two in a row in her life!

  Due to the fact that she was suffering agonies over the age difference between her and her lovers, the first thought that popped into her mind was menopause. She tried to convince herself she wasn’t old enough even for early menopause, but that was almost scarier. Sooner or later, every woman hit menopause. That was natural. It was to be expected, but if that wasn’t it, then that left pregnancy or tumor. She couldn’t think of a damned thing besides those two possibilities that would account for the symptoms and of those two, pregnancy seemed the least likely.

  She’d tried to have a baby when she was young enough it had seemed the thing to do. When she’d discovered how unlikely it was that she would conceive without assistance, she’d thrown her birth control out the window. She hadn’t actually tried to get pregnant since, but she hadn’t tried not to either. If it was going to happen for her, she was sure it would’ve happened a very long time ago.

  It was still a possibility, but she was afraid to accept that rosy outlook. If she allowed herself to think like that, she could be in serious trouble.

  She hadn’t had any pain, though, not even any kind of discomfort that she could put down to ‘something bad’. She would’ve tried to push it from her mind except that Remy informed her they were about to leave.

  She struggled not to look alarmed. “I wonder if they happen to have a clinic here?” she asked as off-handedly as she could.

  Cavanaugh studied her worriedly. “You think you’re coming down with something?”

  The look on his face didn’t help her feelings. “It’s just … uh … well, I’ve been really tired lately and it seems to me … uh … never mind.”

  “Oh …OH!”

  He frowned, seemed to wrestle with himself and finally spoke again, but she had the feeling it wasn’t what he’d intended to say.

  “You didn’t expect to be, baby? I mean, you aren’t used to any of this. I’m not at all surprised you’re worn to the bone. I would’ve been a lot more surprised if you weren’t.”

  She thought about it, felt a little lightening of the worry, and finally decided he might be right. “You think that’s it?”

  “I’m sure it isn’t anything to be worried about. We’ll be heading east, anyway. If you get to feeling worse, or you decide you should see a doctor, we’ll head for the nearest clinic.”

  Relieved, Sylvie was more than willing to dismiss it. Remy made it even easier to pack the last twinges of worry into the back of her mind by returning to the room later that evening via the window instead of the door. She discovered why he’d decided not to come back via the hotel lobby when she got her first good look at him.

  “Oh my god! Remy! What happened?”

  He shrugged. He looked a lot more pissed off than hurt—expression wise, anyway. Sylvie followed him to the bathroom. “How many were there?”

  “How may what?” he growled, stripping and climbing into the shower.

  Despite her anxiety, Sylvie knew an attempt to divert her when she heard it. She folded her arms over her chest. “You were in a fight!”

  He slid a look at her. “You noticed, huh?”

  “Fine! Don’t tell me!” Whirling, she stalked out of the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bed angrily.

  Remy was still dripping water when he came out of the bathroom. “Are we going to talk about it?” Sylvie asked.

  “NO!”

  Unsettled by his vehemence, angry that he’d been hurt and wouldn’t even talk to her about it, alarmed that he’d been attacked so viciously and effectively when she knew how well he could handle himself and she’d thought the town fairly peaceful, Sylvie shot to her feet, turned her back on him and crawled across the bed. Settling on the very edge with her back to him, she glared at the wall while he got ready for bed—which consisted of turning out the light. He climbed in behind her stark naked and still wet.

  For a while he merely lay staring at the ceiling. Finally, he released a pent up breath. “I had a little difference of opinion with Hawk,” he muttered. “Satisfied?”

  Sylvie rolled over to face him, staring at him in stunned disbelief. “That looks like a lot more than a ‘little difference of opinion’.”

  “Yeah, well he looks like a lot more, too,” he said tightly.

  “Oh,” Sylvie said, dismayed.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  She sighed irritably, but finally snuggled closer to him.

  He lay stiffly for a while, but finally turned over and curled an arm and leg over her. He nuzzled his face against her neck and Sylvie wiggled a little closer still. He kissed her forehead. “Go to sleep, baby. You need to rest while you can. We’ll be on the trail again in a few days.”

  Sylvie relaxed. She hadn’t really been needy, but she’d thought he might want to, for comfort if nothing else. If he wasn’t in the mood, though, she wasn’t going to push it. Kissing him back, she settled more comfortably and tried to put his dispute with Hawk out of her mind. Considering the shape Remy was in, though, she couldn’t help but worry about him. Sure it was wonderful that they healed rapidly and it usually didn’t even leave a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt—in fact she knew it did and her concern was for their suffering.

  They were as touchy, she thought, about their manhood, though, as she was about her age.

  Actually, she wasn’t touchy about it ordinarily. She rarely gave it a thought. The only reason it bothered her now was because she was afraid it bothered them. Weird, she knew, when they’d never given any indication that it had crossed their minds to worry about it. She supposed a part
of her anxiety was due to the fact that she knew most everyone would disapprove—everyone she knew and everyone they knew, which was ridiculous given the fact that none of them were ever likely to know about the relationship at all.

  They ended up staying almost a week and a half in the little town before they set out again. Sylvie knew it was because Mac and Beau had gone somewhere. She managed to pry that much information out of Remy but not what they were up to. Her imagination might have been worse than what was actually going on, but it was all she had so she worried about what she thought might be happening.

  She was so excited to see them all again she wasn’t even remotely regretful to be leaving—not until their first pit stop, anyway. She’d actually managed to get used to going in the woods, though, and although she hadn’t stopped hating it, it wasn’t quite the ordeal it had been in the beginning.

  The only dim spot on her horizon was the fact that they were taking her home and no one had said what would happen then. She was afraid she knew and that that was why nobody wanted to talk about it. She was also fearful of what an attempt to slip back into the U.S. might entail. It could be bad for her since she didn’t have any kind of identification on her, and the authorities weren’t looking for her.

  There was another element to the trek that confused and worried her—they didn’t seem to be any great rush to get to the coast, which was where they’d told her they were heading—and at the same time the guys were all antsy. Mac sent someone out to check their back trail at least once a day and usually twice.

  She didn’t question it, mostly because she knew they weren’t going to tell her any damned thing unless they wanted to—and if they’d wanted her to know what was up, they would’ve told her without her having to ask. Try though she might to think up an explanation for their bizarre behavior, though, nothing the least bit reasonable occurred to her.

  Eventually, after over a week of trekking, they finally came to another small town. There, they repeated pretty much the same process as they had when they’d gotten a place at the first town, except that Beau posed as her husband and Beau went alone to find a place for them to stay. The men were tense enough while they waited for him to come back that it was impossible to ignore the fact that they were ready for trouble. She didn’t know if that meant that they were expecting it or not or how worried she should be.