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“And you and Mercedes?” She bit at her lip and looked away, as if nervous.
“Hardly know each other,” he said, interested that she’d picked up on their kinship. “I helped her pick the retired military special ops for the show and her brother served with me.”
She stared at him as if he were hiding something.
He was. His and Mercedes’ death sentences.
“That was heartbreaking, her brother’s death.”
“It was.” She had no idea the heartbreak for him, his men, and especially Mercedes and her father.
Maybe she did. Everybody had heartbreak, right? Their gazes held, and he was tempted to share, not about Mercedes but about himself.
No way.
He gestured toward the tents. “Let’s go see what kind of equipment they left us.” His gaze darted around as they walked toward the camp. Mercedes had said there were cameras mounted and he easily picked them out. An annoyance, but he’d deal with it. The cameras would give him even more motivation to not reveal anything personal and keep himself emotionally detached.
Currently there was nothing dangerous approaching, but he’d keep an eye out—feral pigs, snakes, and scorpions should be their biggest dangers. He glanced up at the towering waterfall and then around at the thick vegetation. Special reconnaissance was a hallmark of the Green Berets, and Cash had counted himself and his men as experts. He’d scan, plan, and conquer this island.
Climbing gear would be fabulous rather than fighting through the surrounding growth to obtain their first flag and search the high ground for more flags. A machete would be an absolute necessity if they were going to succeed. Two miles by five could be explored in an afternoon if they had any sort of trails. If the whole island was as native and overgrown as the coastline he’d seen on the helicopter flight in, he wondered if they could cover this tropical forest in a week.
Glancing at his beautiful counterpart, he forced a smile. “You still up for this? We could follow the creek down to the beach andcircle the island first, or we can tackle the waterfall while we’re fresh.” The beach was only a short distance from the camp and from the brief views he’d had, the coastline was sand and not a rock-strewn nightmare.
“I’ll be your huckleberry,” she drawled.
He chuckled at that, but unfortunately she couldn’t be ‘his’ in any sense.
As they approached their little camp with a tent, some camp chairs, a fire pit, a massive cooler, a Camp Chef flat grill, a stack of dry food, water bottles, and other gear, he squinted at the tent. Miniscule. One of those small four-by-six dome tents that was supposed to fit two people. At six-three, he’d have to curl around her or sleep outside.
This might be a long week, but he’d experienced much worse.
To secure the five million dollars and make sure his gyms for vets and at-risk youth were funded after his death … it would be worth uncomfortable sleeping conditions and the insane challenge of trying to find Brylee’s money somewhere on this too-tropical island.
All he had to do was execute a plan and hack his way through an island to help Brylee find her money. Oh, and under no conditions could he fall for the very desirable woman at his side. His own real-life Natasha.
Easy.
She smiled up at him, more attractive than even Natasha.
Maybe not so easy.
Chapter
Three
Brylee’s stomach twisted.She swiped on some cinna-mint lip balm as they sorted through the gear stacked near the food piles. She caught Cash sneaking a glance at her lips, and her stomach turned to something warm as she momentarily forgot the unease of climbing up that waterfall—or, more likely, attempting to climb and falling to her death.
Cash was so crazily attractive she wasn’t sure how to keep from broadcasting her interest in him and making this week more awkward than it had to be. Their close proximity and that small tent would make things awkward enough.
If she thought there was a chance they existed in the same dating caste system, she’d say to heck with the awkwardness and go for it. But Brylee had been to college. She’d glimpsed men like Cash from an admiring distance as they dated the female student body president, the head cheerleader, or the school’s first female ambassador to solve world hunger. There was no solar system where a man as accomplished, tough, charitable, and good-looking as Cash would be interested in a redhead from a small town. Yes, she had a double doctorate degree, but this man had fought, protected, and proven himself a superhuman.
Yet he’d been the one to instigate them against the world and wrap his hand around hers. That gave her hope she shouldn’t feel.
As soon as Mercedes and crew disappeared, he’d released her hand and stepped away. Had the initial hand holding been an act on his part, or had there been some interest but he felt he was moving too fast?
In the real world, meeting the most impressive, tough, and handsome man on the planet at the local singles’ hangout, she’d think they were moving too fast, but they were in an alternate reality here. They’d be alone for up to a week, sleeping in that small tent—she swallowed and pushed that thought away—and would have to rely on each other. Or rather, she would be relying on him, which would probably result in him being irritated by her lack of survival skills, or feeling pity for her, but definitely not falling for her.
Brylee pushed the useless questions away in the face of what was important … winning the money to help the refugees.
