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“What is it, boy?”
Atlas kept staring at the water, then he started barking. Deep, resonant barks that echoed through the trees.
Boone’s gaze narrowed, and he scanned the far riverbank. He didn’t see any movement, and couldn’t spot anything out of place.
But Atlas didn’t bark for no good reason. He was too well trained. The dog barked again, and Boone started reeling in his line.
“Atlas, what can you sense?” He often wished his dog could talk. The line snagged on something. His head jerked up, then his muscles went tight.
There was someone in the water.
Correction. There was awomanin the water.
Moving on autopilot, Boone kicked his boots off and waded in. Once it was deep enough, he dived into the river.
Fuck. The water was cold.
But he’d been part of Delta Force. A Delta operator never let the heat or cold bother him. He hadn’t been a Navy SEAL, but later, as a part of Ghost Ops, he’d worked beside some of the best SEALs in the world. They’d taught him a few things.
Boone sliced through the water, ignoring the temperature. His brain clicked into mission mode. He blocked out the physical discomfort and focused on his mission objective.
The current was swift, but manageable. The woman was being tossed around by the water. Shit, was she still alive?
He reached her and hauled her to him, pulling her onto her back. He yanked the fishing hook free of her hair, then started back toward the bank. Atlas stood at attention, his body alert and tense.
Boone’s feet touched the rocky bottom, and he stood, then he hauled the woman into his arms. She was a sodden dead weight.
Damn. Please be alive.
He strode out of the water and dropped to his knees on the grass. He laid her out, and got the impression of tangled dark hair, and a scatter of freckles on pale, pale skin.
He pressed a palm to her chest, then he let out a sharp breath. She was breathing.
“Hey, can you hear me?” He pressed two fingers to the side of her neck and felt a fluttering pulse against his fingers.
Thank fuck.
“Time to open those eyes.” Gently, he patted down her body, searching for any serious injuries. She was small and curvy. There were no obvious injuries, except that her feet were bare and scratched up.
He frowned. What the hell had happened to her? Where had she come from?
That’s when he noted the faint abrasions on her wrists.Hell. Had she been tied up?
Atlas sat close and whined.
“She’ll be all right, buddy. We’ll make sure of it.”
He pushed her hair off her face. She had a nasty bump at the base of her skull. She’d hit her head on something.
“Okay, sleeping beauty. Wake up.” Her skin was cold. The water was icy, and he had no idea how long she’d been in it. Hypothermia was a risk.
Suddenly, the woman moaned and reared up. Her eyes opened.
Boone stilled. Her eyes were hazel. Green with gold flecks.
Oh, fuck.He knew her.
He’d seen her face on the television, and in news articles, when she’d been pictured with her father.
