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“Then I guess I’ll be spending the rest of this mission convincing you otherwise. Because wanting you is not the issue. Believe me, I want you. But as much as it surprises me to say, I don’t want to scratch an itch with you or get you out of my system so we can focus on the mission. I think after all we’ve been through we both deserve more than that. Maybe we can achieve it together. And I’d never ask you to compromise who you are and your own personal moral code. And that’s exactly what you’d be doing. There’s more between us than meets the eye, Eden. There’s a future. But I’m a patient man.”
ChapterTwelve
Nate took first watch and let Eden sleep.
She’d gotten into her sleeping bag and turned away from him, her Glock in her hand and her knife placed just beneath the corner where she could reach it easily. He’d known sleep hadn’t come easily to her and she’d lain awake for a long while, but eventually her breathing had slowed and deepened.
His time alone had given him too much time to think. He’d answered her question truthfully. Warlock was dead. Only his team called him that name, and sparingly. When it did slip it was out of habit. He’d learned to cope with the traumas he’d seen and experienced—the things he’d had to do to others in the name of country. But Nathan Locke and Warlock were no longer the same man.
If Warlock hadn’t died then Nate never would’ve survived. It made it easier to separate the two men—as if Warlock were a figment of his imagination or just a distant dream. Atticus had understood that better than anyone, and he was careful the missions he assigned to Nate for that reason. Bringing back the past wasn’t a good idea for any of them.
He knew the second she awoke, even though she lay there for several minutes, listening to her surroundings.
“We’re going to have to take the chance and build a fire,” he finally said. “The temperature keeps dropping and it’s started to snow again. I’ve got some trail mix if your teeth will stop chattering long enough to chew it.”
She sat up slowly and stretched, and he handed her some trail mix and a bottle of water. “A fire would be nice.”
“The structure is sound for the most part and there’s enough ventilation to let the smoke escape. The floor is dirt, so I could dig a pit and just use some of the scrap wood as a starter. We could move the tent closer and leave the flap open.”
“I’ll gather the wood and do another circuit around the perimeter,” she said.
His mouth quirked as she jumped up and headed out of the confined space. He guessed she was in a hurry to get away from him.
* * *
Being closed up with Nate in such a small space was driving her crazy. She’d picked a heck of a time to notice men again. But not just any man. It was Nate she wanted. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but she could tell her approach to ripping the Band-Aid off in regards to sex, so to speak, had taken him off guard.
It had taken her off guard too. She wasn’t the kind of woman who made the first move. She was a slow and deliberate kind of person. And it was because of that reason that she realized it wasn’t that she didn’t trust Nate. It was that she didn’t trust herself.
She’d trusted Jonah enough to not only give him her body, but to make a lifetime commitment to him. What did that say about her?
If she was honest with herself, it was nothing but fear driving her to make such a bold offer to Nate. As if what they’d share wouldn’t matter and she could guard her heart. She might not trust herself, but she did know herself. If she was willing to give her body to Nate then her heart was already committed.
The snow and the moon were so bright she didn’t need a flashlight to do the perimeter check. As soon as she stepped out of the shelter the wind slapped against her face and icy flurries stung her skin. She pulled up her neck gaiter so it covered the bottom of her face and then went about the business of taking care of her personal needs before she did a perimeter check.
The dogs were quiet and hunkered down out of the wind and snow, and their tracks had already been covered. The weather was inconvenient, but it was also a godsend.
She knew Jonah was out there somewhere, but not even he was crazy enough to attack in weather like this. There was no cover between the moon and the snow, and visibility was low. If the Russians or Jonah had managed to track them this far they’d stand out like beacons and give their positions away.
She found a pile of dry wood that had collapsed under an overhang, and she gathered up the pieces, along with her courage, and went back inside to Nate.
He’d dug a trench in the dirt and found some old pieces of metal that had once been part of a hearth up against the wall. Or what had once been a wall. She stacked the wood onto the metal, leaving plenty of room for ventilation beneath and for the bits of tinder he’d stuffed in his pack from Joe’s store. He pushed it beneath the wood and used the survival lighter to start a small flame. It didn’t take long for the dry wood to catch and before long there was a nice blaze going.
Eden repositioned the tent as close as it was safe to and opened the flaps wide, but she moved her sleeping bag outside and sat stiffly against a fallen beam to keep watch. The fire crackled and heated the immediate area enough that she took off her gloves and flexed her fingers. Her weapons were within easy grasp and she stared intently at the flames, doing her best to ignore Nate.
“You should get some sleep,” Eden said stiffly. “The perimeter is clear, and we’re getting a good covering of snow, but dark hours are short in Alaska and it’ll be daylight in another hour or so.”
“I don’t need much sleep,” Nate said, settling himself inside the tent on his sleeping bag. He lay down and propped himself up on his arm, not looking the least bit tired.
“What?” she finally asked after several minutes of silence.
“Do you remember the face of the Syrian who tortured you?”
Her breath caught in her chest, and immediately the image of the man who tortured her came to mind. She couldn’t have stopped it if she wanted to.
She didn’t look at him when she answered. “I see him in my nightmares. His name was Farid. He always insisted that I call him by name. But I never did. I never spoke at all.” Her voice was steady as the memories bombarded her.
She could have stayed silent—could’ve avoided answering Nate’s questions like he’d avoided hers. But she wanted him to know all of her—the good, the bad, and the ugly.
