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Why the hell should he be so drawn to her? She was smart-mouthed, in-your-face, and intolerant of anything remotely prejudicial toward her as a woman. Mace believed in women. He just didn’t want them out here in this unforgiving jungle. The Russians had captured Lauren Parker. Thank God, Nik Morozov had been there when all that went down and had, later on, helped rescue her from being raped and then killed by those degenerates. Scowling, Mace sat on a log, waiting for her to answer his question. He saw the stubborn set of her jaw. Those damned lush lips that he wanted to kiss, were compressed. Those cypress-green eyes of hers were wary-looking. He could smell her scent. A female fragrance that set his entire lower body on high alert. Damn, the last thing he needed was a hard-on to top off his discomfort with this whole deal. That would be more than embarrassing. It was unprofessional and something she didn’t deserve.
When he’d placed the elastic radio band around her head, he’d enjoyed touching her silky, slightly-frizzy hair. Sierra had been so close, and he’d deeply inhaled her woman’s scent like the starved predator he felt he was. She had been tense, not trusting of him. Worse, when he’d lifted his hand to adjust her mouth mic, she’d all but bolted, jerking back from his hands. That had startled Mace. The terror he saw, for just that moment, in her eyes had tunneled through his chest, slammed into his heart, and squeezed it. He couldn’t explain why she had such a hold on him. All they did was fight and snipe at one another. And he knew he was at fault. He’s the one who had refused to welcome her or shake her hand. Was it any wonder she didn’t trust him? No.
The very instant she could, Sierra had butt-shuffled away from him, putting more space between him and her on the damp log. Now, he lamented that teenager-level knee-jerk behavior of his earlier. A good leader made the people he worked with feel welcomed. Like they were a part of the team. And Mace was, if nothing else, a team man. He had a lot of pride. Maybe too much. It wasn’t like him to tell her he was sorry. It just didn’t come easy to him. Never had. He cast around for a way to apologize without saying it right out loud. Bothered by Sierra’s reaction, he asked about her op in Somalia. Mace saw her eyes go dark with pain. She hunched forward, elbows on her thighs, hands clasped tightly between them.
“I was over there for three months,” she began in a low, clipped tone. “Me and the SEAL team were on the rooftop of a three-story home, camouflaged, waiting for an HVT to go to the building where he gave his pep talks to his murdering thugs.”
“That was a damned dangerous situation,” Mace said, catching and holding her gaze. Sierra looked exhausted. He hadn’t realized so until this moment. Her skin was a beautiful gold color, natural, and it had hid the smudges beneath her eyes. Guilt ate at Mace. He’d deliberately set a blistering pace to wear her down, to prove to her that she couldn’t handle being an operator on an A-team. She’d handled it without a problem. Why was he doing this? The intel from his CIA handler, Jorgensen, said that S. Chastain had ranked in the top ten percent of snipers in the Marine Corps. She knew her business. And there was no question, she was a professional and he’d been an absolute jerk.
“Yeah,” she muttered, rubbing her brow for a moment, “but it was what it was. Then again, all ops are.” She shot him a wry look. “You know that better than most. Right? Hunter-killer teams do the dirty work behind the scenes. It’s the most dangerous kind of work.”
Her huskily spoken words made him feel good. She had such a sensuous, low voice. Purely feminine, smoky, setting him on fire. And if Mace didn’t know better, he swore he’d seen yearning in her eyes earlier—for him. The WAY she looked at him whenever he caught her glancing in his direction, felt purely like a woman-to-man gaze, reflecting his own appreciation and connection with him. It took everything he had to not respond to that heated look she’d just given him. Mace didn’t think for a moment she was flirting. He knew how women flirted, and what Sierra was doing certainly wasn’t that. Maybe he was just wishing that it was. Hell, he was so damned horny. It had been three months, way past time, for him and his team to land in Cusco for a week. There, they could get real food, hot showers, shave, find a woman who wanted to have sex with an American, and enjoy some downtime from the tension that always lorded over them.
He needed a woman so fucking bad. And maybe, because of his own state, he was misreading Sierra’s look. He had to be.
“Did you tail your target?”
Sierra nodded, rubbing her face. “Yeah, but things went sideways after we ex-filled off the house roof. Our car broke down halfway out of town. A group of thugs came at us with machetes and knives.” Lifting her chin, she muttered, “Go figure. We’d made good our escape from the area of the HVT take-down. Only to have the car engine blow, leaving us in a very bad situation with a local gang. They saw us and came in after us. They didn’t know who we really were.”
Grimacing, Mace growled, “You’re lucky to be alive.” He found his heart pounding with dread for her. She was incredibly confident, naturally beautiful in a way he’d found very, very few women to be. Sierra wore no makeup. An operator wouldn’t. The odor would tip off tangos that she was in the area. A single scent or fragrance could get her killed. There was something about Sierra that Mace couldn’t quite define. All he wanted to do was stare at her, lose himself in her, and that was the craziest reaction he’d ever had to any woman.Ever.
“We got into a skirmish, found another vehicle, a beat-up truck, got it going and got the hell out of there. THAT was a nightmare.” She snorted softly. “Sitting up on a rooftop was a piece of cake in comparison.”
Mace nodded and saw the pensive look in her face. “Look, Merrill is going to make us some breakfast and then I want you to sack out for a while. We aren’t going anywhere for a few days. Things are pretty up in the air right now and this is one of the safest places I know of, except to sit in a bar in Cusco drinking pisco sours,” and he gave her a grizzled smile. Instantly, he saw her eyes lighten, and he groaned inwardly as her full lips parted. The way her slender neck curved into her shoulders made Mace ache to reach out and stroke it, feel her pulse beneath his fingertips.
“That sounds great. If there’s anything I can do to fit in? Take up some task that needs doing?”
He liked her team spirit. “I’ll think about it,” was all he said. “Just keep your weapons oiled daily. This high humidity will start rusting out a gun barrel in a day if you don’t pay attention.”
“Not to worry. In my book, cleanliness is next to godliness.” She stood up, rubbed her palms against her thighs. “In fact, I think I’ll do that right now, give the weapons an oil protection.”
“Good, because you can count on thunderstorms and rain nearly every night.”
Grimacing, Sierra walked away. Just the sway of her hips and that fine butt of hers made his hands itchy to cup those firm cheeks. He had it bad! What he should be doing is setting out a watch schedule. The Russians were always around. There was only one real way in and out of this place, save for that one rally point the men had built a year earlier. The one they had then hidden and camouflaged. But he still needed a man on guard on that trail a mile out of the meadow.
Sierra gathered up her hair into a ponytail with a thick rubber band. The thickness of it loose was too heavy. It made her feel overheated to wear her it all down. She brought out a bottle of Tabasco sauce, a jar of Bacon Bits, and a package of fresh, shredded cheese. She took it all over to Cale, who had the cooking duties. He was squatted down, a big black iron skillet on the metal grill in one hand, pushing at least a dozen eggs around in it.
“Could you use any of these in all that?” she asked, showing her treasure of condiments to the soldier. Instantly, she saw Cale’s eyes light up.
“All of it. Put a bunch in? We like Tabasco sauce. And we’re all out.”
Sierra got busy sprinkling a handful of Bacon Bits, some shredded cheese, and the sauce into the eggs. Cale quickly folded them in with a spatula. “I brought some perishables along with me. I was told you’ve been out here three months without a break?” and she looked into the sergeant’s square face.
“What did you bring?” he asked, holding the skillet just above the flames of the small fire that flamed away below in the pit.
Sierra saw Kilmer and Nate wandering out, as if on cue. They could probably smell the food on the air and she smiled to herself. “I brought a ton of Baby Wipes with me.
Cale groaned. “Really?”
She knew how important they were out in a hostile climate. Toilet paper wasn’t exactly handy. “Yeah. I brought a dozen boxes. I can share them between all of us.”
“You’re an angel,” Cale said fervently, standing, the eggs ready to portion out. “Yeah, we’d all appreciate that, Sierra. Thank you.”
She’d forgotten her kit. As she turned, Kilmer held out his own to her.
“Take mine.”
Stunned at his suddenly being nice, she gaped for a moment. “No… thanks… I have a kit. I just need to go get it. I’ll be right back. You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up.”
