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  With her wet weapon—which should generally be able to fire after that plunge, but he wouldn’t hold his breath for it—in one hand and the flashlight in the other, Ken took a step into the cave where light from the lowering sun shot beams of light broken by shadows from the towering trees.

  “I’ll go,” Sam offered.

  He shook his head. Already he hated leaving her to watch for a threat without a weapon. Any threat attempting to surprise them from outside wouldn’t succeed. They’d have ample warning for him to return to her. But, finding something deadly in the cave without carrying a weapon would be suicide.

  The animal-free cave measured to nearly a good-sized living room. Plenty of space for their needs.

  After clearing the area, he called Sam in to wait until the team arrived.

  She stepped inside and toward the side wall where sunlight hadn’t penetrated the area. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, he wished they could start a fire. He reached into the pack and pulled out the small blanket that had been vacuum-sealed to save space. Although chilled himself from the temperature drop in their enclosure, he handed her the olive-green blanket.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine until the men come. Then I’ll swipe theirs.” He could also grab a mylar emergency blanket, but he’d survive without it.

  With a nod, she reached for the one in his hand and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl.

  “How long do you think they’ll be?”

  Looking at the—thank God—waterproof watch on his wrist like it held the answer, nothing but honesty could exist on an op. Touching his earpiece to activate the mic, he requested, “Status report.” After nothing but an unreadable reply, he shook his head. “Don’t know, but I hope soon. We need to get out of these wet clothes.” He kept his eyes forward and nonchalance in his voice.

  Even being cold, they removed their wet shirts and T-shirts, although she left her sports bra in place. Sam wrapped the blanket back around herself.

  In only a few moments, his body temperature warmed. Not completely because his pants still clung to him, but better.

  After that and without thought, she reached back and released her messy hair from its holder. Turning to watch her, he stepped closer as she ran her fingers through the wet strands now flowing over her shoulders and framing her exquisite face.

  He needed to taste her mouth, to feel the softness of her breasts up against his chest both with and without a clothing barrier between them.

  Seeing her shiver, he closed the space between them. “Sam.” He had no idea what he’d planned to say.

  She turned to look at him and he was floored by the passion, flaming desire, and maybe love that flared in her eyes.

  He knew his focus should be on the cave entrance, but this woman enthralled him. They’d only just begun what could be—would be if he could convince her—between them.

  “Do you remember our first kiss?” They’d never spoken of the moment since it occurred.

  She nodded and her eyes gleamed. “You were drunk.”

  That he’d been, but he’d not forgotten the feel of her soft lips on his or her unique taste along with a hint of the strawberry margarita she’d been sipping. He hadn’t forgotten the heat when he’d slid his hands over her lovely ass, pulling her tight against him and how their bodies had molded together. If he hadn’t had morals, he’d have taken her to his bed that night.

  It’d been a warm Thursday evening with the rain doing that annoying misting thing and the clouds covering the normally bright evening sky.

  “You wore an incredible red dress because you and Beverly had been at some event before you two stopped in at the sports bar.”

  Surprise lit her features. While he couldn’t remember what the women he dated before had worn, he couldn’t forget the image of her. A small fire flamed in her eyes. A fire he planned to have blazing before the night ended. “What else do you remember?” Her tone moved to suggestive.

  He took a step closer, then stopped when the tips of her breasts and hard nipples—from probably cold and desire—touched his chest. “Actually,” he smiled slyly, “I remember when you entered, what you drank, and how long it took Adam to get you and Beverly to our table.” He reached and lovingly touched her cheek, his thumb rubbing across her lips. “And, with your shiny hair reaching the middle of your back, and your lips begging to be kissed with a clear gloss, you made a pretty picture.”

  Yep, he remembered every single detail and hadn’t let it go after he’d turned her away. Sadly, but ironically, he’d worried about making Sam a widow when in fact, he’d survived and the man she’d married had died while he’d survived.

  Ken closed his eyes to fight back the pain of losing his best friend while he coveted the man’s wife. Then to kiss her again a year after Lance’s death. She’d been right to push him away since she hadn’t been ready.

  “Ken?”

  He opened his eyelids and saw tenderness behind the heat in hers. “I’m going to kiss you now.” If she wanted him to stop whether by words, expression, or movement, he would, although he’d prefer she didn’t.

  Sam tilted her head back so she could reach his mouth with her own. Even with only about a half of foot difference in their height, kissing involved his leaning over and her rising on her tiptoes.

  He gently nibbled on her lower lip until he sensed the combined passion in them mounting. Claiming her as his own, he kissed her with a possessiveness through which his love flowed.

  As their lips moved over each other and their tongues fought for dominance, his anticipation ramped up to an almost intolerable level. He needed her body next to his, skin on skin.

  Lifting his head, the memory of her face as the evening shadows flitted across it would dominate his recollections of her. She exuded a strength that had kept them from trouble, a tenderness that’d had her worried about his injury, and the desire and love she offered him.

  “Now ain’t that nice,” a man drawled.

  26

  Spinning around with a frantic heartbeat, Ken pointed the Glock at the cave entrance. He tried to push Sam behind him for protection like he would for a client. Instead, she’d tried the same thing with him. She also had her waterlogged weapon pointed directly at the man who’d entered their little sanctuary unannounced.

  If they hadn’t been facing a possible threat, he’d shake his head at their loss. Together—in future assignments—he foresaw them in for a wild ride.

  With a huge sigh of relief and a major ass kicking in his mind for allowing his defenses to be lowered, he ground out, “About damn time you arrived.” Trying to remember it hadn’t been Franks’s fault he’d been surprised, it’d been his. Had it been anyone other than an agent, there’d be no telling what would’ve happened to the two of them. Then again, he doubted any of the men Alejandro had on his payroll could move as stealthily as his agents.

  Franks leaned on the edge of the cave wall, which meant that he’d not only approached silently, but he’d also had time to watch the two of them.

  Ken narrowed his eyes with a challenge to his second-in-command that he keep his mouth shut about anything he’d witnessed. The team would learn soon enough that he and Sam were together.

  “Reagan wouldn’t appreciate your profanity,” Franks jested. “Soon, her swear jar will be full enough to pay for college through a doctoral degree.”

  Grimacing, he asked, “Do you really think she’ll count damn as a curse word?” He shook his head knowing they’d eliminated her fine while on operations. “Never mind. I’m glad you’re here. What’s our status?.”

  Franks quirked an eyebrow. “Go for a swim?”

  “We decided to do a couple of high dives,” he snarled back.

  “Damn, Boss,” said the man who’d just told him not curse. “You took a lickin’.”

  “And kept on
tickin’.” Ken chuckled at their joke from some old commercial and regretted it. A sharp pain wrapped its tentacles around his chest. A chest already enflamed with the exertion of their travels. If he didn’t breathe too deeply or laugh, only an ache resided with his bruised ribs.

  Franks turned his eyes to Sam, and the softening in them made Ken want to reach out and choke the man, even though he knew it’d been out of the bond they’d formed and not anything sexual. He’d been jealous of how she’d quickly become friends with the other agents but had no reason to since the two of them had agreed to remain professional at work.

  “How you doing, Sugar?”

  “Just wet,” she told Franks. “I can help with guard duty tonight.”

  Oh hell no. She’d be in his arms tonight because he wouldn’t allow her out of his sight until Beverly had been captured or was dead.

  Franks shook his head. “Nah, you’re a target. I’d rather protect the two of you for a change. Take the night to rest, eat, and recoup. With what Doc says about the boss’s leg, we need to start early to meet the bird on time.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Ken narrowed his eyes. “It’s fine.” He’d surprised himself how far he’d traveled. While he’d been grateful for Sam’s assistance, he’d still borne the brunt of his weight on his leg.

  “Is Doc coming down to look at his injuries?” she asked, her voice lit with hope. He’d like that too, but he also knew Doc wouldn’t be pleased at the depth of them going untreated to this point along with his running through the jungle.

  “Yeah. I wanted to check in first.” Turning back to Ken, he asked, “What do you need?”

  “We need at least one—preferably two—weapons of any sort. We’ve got one blanket, but I’d like all of yours. We need to get out of these wet clothes and dry off. I’m sure Sam would like her own cover.” While jealous because an agent saw Sam only in her sports bra, he had to remember she wore something similar when working out with the team.

  Franks nodded and a sly, knowing smile crept across his face before he pulled one of the handguns he had in a holster and handed it over. Ken wanted his holster and weapons back. He felt naked without them. “Doc’ll bring the rest down with him. He’s also got an extra bladder and some chow.” He grinned.

  With a quirk of his lips, Ken nodded in relief that his team had come together without him. He couldn’t be prouder of them. “My comms are iffy.”

  “We figured that. We don’t have an extra, but we’re here with you now, so you’ll be fine. Just be alert if you hear gunfire.”

  Like he needed to say that. “Where’re you situated?”

  “The top of the ridge is the only place someone can begin their descent or slip up the river by boat so we’ve set up one top and one bottom while the third rests. We’ll rotate every three hours once Doc is finished with you, and that’ll put all of us awake before dawn.”

  With nothing to add since Franks had made the same decision he would’ve, he thanked him and watched the agent retreat.

  While they waited for Doc to arrive, he and Sam kept a reasonable distance between them even though he wanted her back in his arms. Tonight would test him both physically and emotionally. They’d been right about him needing the rest, but wouldn’t Sam didn’t tire him in the least.

  With his agents protecting them, he relaxed somewhat but not enough he hadn’t heard Doc approach.

  The big man—easily the largest on the team in height, muscles, and broadness of chest—smiled when he entered, the roof of the cave only a few inches above his head.

  “How’s it going, Sugar? Boss?”

  Of course he’d ask the woman first. He loved women. All women. Too many women.

  Sam smiled at him, and for a moment, Ken thought she would hug him. A spark of jealousy gripped him and it took all his reasoning to release it and remember how she’d responded to him.

  “I’ve got your stuff.” Doc handed Ken a handgun—probably from Cowboy since he also wore two weapons on his body. The blankets he handed to Sam. “Would you lay these out so I can get a good look at his injuries? Make sure it’s in the bit of light left. You can move them later when it’s time to sleep.” He also held a full water bladder for her to take. “Electrolytes.”

  Ken grimaced, knowing the taste of them. He wanted to say he could manage on his own, but bending over didn’t agree with him. In fact, getting up and down might be a challenge.

  It appeared that while his team had bonded and gotten to know each other as he had them, they’d absorbed everything about him. It tugged at his heart since he considered them family. “I can get back up.” Maybe.

  “Doesn’t matter. I want you off the leg until tomorrow. When we’re back home, you’ll really need to stay off it. Pain level? Honest.”

  Ken scoffed. “Does it matter? I’ll make it out of here. Now, are you planning to look at my wound?”

  “Don’t need to.” He knelt by the pallet Sam had created. “You got shot. No matter if big or small, it still needs tending. Now, Sam, turn your back. Don’t care whether you go to the side or back of the cave. Just don’t block these last few rays.”

  “Why does she need to move?” Ken asked. He’d love to have her hold his hand through this, not because of fear but because it’d be soothing.

  “Because you’re going to strip for me.”

  “Where’re my singles?” Sam piped in with a laugh.

  “I’m worth more than one-dollar bills,” he countered with his best seductive smile aimed at her.

  “All right, you two lovebirds.”

  Ken stiffened. How had he known? If Franks had blabbed, he’d have him running drills sunup to sundown for weeks.

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “But—” Sam sputtered.

  With him? Not with the men or Franks? “How—” He stopped, realizing he’d given them away with only the one word.

  “Anyone with eyes could tell. Especially with how hard the two of you try to stay out of each other’s way at HQ.”

  “No.” Indignation radiated from her.

  “We’ll discuss it later. Let’s get Ken patched up so he can hold his Barbie. Or Sugar in this case.”

  For men who’d never played with any dolls other than soldiers or GI Joe, every time Ken took a woman out, they joked about him finding his Barbie. They’d even began to use the labels the dollmaker had like Cherry Pie Picnic Barbie Doll.

  He’d heard that most of his life, so it slid down his back, but thought it funny so he’d played along, assuring them that his Barbie had gotten away. Which had been true.

  Doc turned his gaze to Sam and raised an eyebrow. “Sam?”

  She scurried to the edge of the cave on the side opposite them, holding her wet rifle as if it comforted her. It probably did.

  “Let me see the leg.”

  Sam turned to observe Doc take a look, only lightly touching once on the front and once on the back.

  “Okay, your pants aren’t stuck to the wound. Your fall into the water would have helped. It probably washed away some of the dried blood, but you’ve got some fresh slowly oozing I’m worried about. Go ahead and undress. Let me know if you need help with the pants.”

  After some uncomfortable shifting and a groan or two bitten back, with Doc’s help, he lay unclothed on top of a blanket with another covering only his privates. Resting his head on their pack, he could observe Doc examine him.

  Like a licensed doctor, Doc poked and prodded enough to make it hurt worse. Ken wanted to order the man away but thought better of it. He had to set an example for his team. If one of them needed care, he’d expect them to endure it.

  “Well, as you know, the bullet went through. While unable to see inside your leg, I’m going on the fact it’s not bleeding profusely and you can bear some weight on it that you’ll survive. Stitched, but, your ches
t?” Doc heaved a frustrated—or maybe pissed off—breath. “Those motherfuckers.”

  “They actually put pressure on the gunshot wound to increase the pain so I’d speak out.”

  “Speak out for what?”

  As Doc pulled something else from his pack, he realized they didn’t know. “They wanted me to give up our Old Man.”

  “Why would they want the Old Man?”

  Ken caught his breath between his teeth. Doc was a bit late in telling him, “This might sting a little.”

  “They actually wanted Old Man and me.” It felt odd calling Jesse such, but that’s how the team—especially on an op—referred to their fearless leader.

  “I can’t stitch this without it being checked out so I’m going to use some big-ass Steri-Strips for now.”

  Ignoring that assessment, he continued, “It’s not only Alejandro, it’s Beverly.”

  “We couldn’t identify the driver of the car that entered the compound.” Doc’s hands touched a few of the burns on his chest and he held back a hiss of pain. “They’re on the verge of being infected. Tomorrow won’t make it any better since you’ll be sweating right over them. But tonight I’ll put something on them that will help in the short-term.”

  When the man pulled yet another thing from his pack, Ken wondered how heavy that bag actually was. Doc carried a regular pack, and with the larger size, he added medical supplies and not the measly first-aid kit one could buy at the store. It took a big man to carry a big pack like the others did their normal size pack.

  As Doc applied goo to each of the ten cigarette burns, he moved on to all Ken’s issues. “Let’s look at that mug.” He prodded Ken’s face.

  Ken winced at the touch and how he must look to Sam.

  “The eye didn’t swell much or it went down. I’ve got something here for the lip, but it looks like you’ve been breaking the small scab.”

  Ken worried he actually blushed at the fact he’d not cared about the discomfort when he kissed Sam. It’d been worth it.