Page 24 of Hot & Heavy

"Always." He clicked off.

Outside the cave, he cut several bushes and put them in front of the cave opening to hide it from any passers by. The whole time he kept worrying about Yasmine, which was not only ridiculous, it was dangerous. There was always the chance that he wouldn't be able to come back… in which case, Yasmine would die of starvation in the cave, restrained as she was. But he couldn't in good conscience release her, either. He should not care. If he followed strict Navy and SEAL policy, he would consider the mission and only the mission.

At the last minute, he sighed in surrender, pulled the bush aside and went back inside. It was the scars on her neck and wrists and ankles that had done him in, or so he told himself.

No woman should be so mistreated, one side of his brain said.

Unless she is a terrorist, the military side of his brain said.

There is no proof yet.

You are kidding yourself.

My instincts urge caution.

It's your funeral, buddy.

Squatting down to his haunches, he set his water bladder a few feet away from her still sleeping body.

She must have been bone-deep exhausted. The tube was near her mouth. She would recognize it when she opened her eyes. In addition, he unwrapped a granola bar and put it near her face, too. Then he put his knife several feet away. It would take her a long time to get to the knife and even longer to manage to slit her ties. He should be back long before then. But if not…

He hoped he wouldn't be sorry.

Then he took off to join his squad.

Even trolls have a good side…

Hours later, Madrene awakened.

It took her several moments to recall where she was. It was still daylight; she could see that, although something had been placed in the cave opening… probably a bush. Her wrists and ankles were restrained by the white armlets. Her shoulders ached from lying in one position for so long.

She turned over on her side, and the first thing she noticed was that the troll was gone. Good, she thought, but she missed his presence. How odd!

The next thing she noticed was the water tube, which the troll must have placed near her face. A considerate troll? How odd! She sipped, but did not overindulge, recalling his warning to conserve the liquid.

Next, she noticed an object next to the water bladder, lying on a scrap of colored parchment. She sniffed it and concluded that it must be food. The troll has left me food? Why? To fatten me for the kill? She decided that it mattered not what his motive might have been. She had been fasting for two days. Rolling onto her face, she got up on her knees, her buttocks in the air, and nibbled on the food like a dog in the rushes. The food was delicious. Sweet. With nuts and raisins. Eating like a dog was not so easy, she soon discovered. The bar kept moving away from her till she pushed it up against the wall.

Once replete, she wiggled her body back to its resting place. She'd noticed the knife on the other side of the cave, and did not doubt that the beast had left it deliberately. He was too much a soldier-troll to have been so careless. Later, she would think on why he had done so… there had to be method to his madness.

She was too tired now to crawl over to the weapon. Later. For now, she wanted just a little more sleep.

It seemed like years—three years, to be precise—since she'd last felt safe enough to succumb totally to the peace of a deep sleep. Though why she felt safe now, she could not say. She was restrained. Fakhir and his men would no doubt be tracking her. It was a long, long way to Baghdad, and an even longer trek back to her homeland.

Putting her hands together under her cheek, she yawned widely. Just a few minutes and she would get up, escape these ties, and be on her way. Just a few minutes…

Strange dreams came to her then. Her father. Her brothers and sisters. They were all smiling and beckoning to her. Was it some kind of message? That she should just give up and join them in the otherworld?

Then she noticed something else. Oh, for Odin's sake! Ian the Troll was there, and he was beckoning her, too. She could not see his face clearly in the haze of her dreams, but she would have sworn he was grinning at her.

So, should she just lie here, make no effort to escape, and possibly die? Or should she fight for her freedom? One thing was clear: If she was to escape, she might very well have to kill the troll, despite his kindness to her. That prospect brought a tightening to her heart that she had not felt since the disappearance of her family.

Later, she decided. She would decide what to do later.

Chapter Five

The best-laid plans…

"Houston, we have a problem," Ian said into his mike.