Her plait kept swaying and swishing. He couldn’t look away from that glistening blue stripe.
“I like time by myself. If I lived in Australia they would call my trips a simple walkabout. Nobody’s going to miss me for a few days, and on the off chance anyone does, they will know I can make it out here on my own.”
He filed that piece of information away. She wasn’t part of the group they’d rescued—that much of her story rang true. Why hadn’t she said so at the start? And it didn’t escape his notice she still hadn’t given her last name.
None of which should matter to him. He’d accomplished what he set out to do. He’d ensured she found shelter through the storm. Another successful day on the job. Another step closer to a Middle East deployment in two weeks. They’d been training hard with mountain exercises in preparation for the rugged and high-altitude terrain of Afghanistan.
Still, Sunny set off alarms in him beyond the sexual draw—which was fierce enough on its own. Could she be a part of something illegal? That would explain her evasiveness. All the more reason to stick to his guns. This mission wasn’t complete until he saw her safely deposited into official hands.
“This isn’t a walkabout kind of place. You know I can’t just leave you here alone. There are rules of safety, and if I leave you here, chances are another rescue group will have to be launched before you make it home.”
“You underestimate me.”
“I’ll be sure not to do that again.”
Her braid swished just shy of a stray ember from the fire. His hand shot out to clasp the plait before it reached the glowing coal.
“Careful,” he warned himself as much as her.
The rope of hair was softer than he’d expected for someone who spent so much time outdoors. He’d thought it would by dry and weather worn. Instead it felt as silky as the parachute he’d lost over the mountainside.
He rubbed his thumb along the woven bumps. Touching her this way, such simple contact, shouldn’t be so powerful, but it was. His body heated with an internal fire blazing higher than the one in front of them.
“Mine.” She grabbed her plait just above his grip and tugged lightly.
“Yes, yours.” Still, he held on. He burned to wrap the braid around his hand and draw her closer. To taste those lying lips of hers.
But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. “You should get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch, then you can tend the fire while I rest.”
Wordlessly, she stared back at him as he continued to hold her hair. The fire crackled with settling logs, hissing at the damp tinder. He’d spent hundreds of nights with complete strangers in barracks around the world. This shouldn’t be any different. But he couldn’t lie to himself.
She tugged her head lightly. “Thanks. I could use some rest before it’s time to leave. Now if I can have my hair back?”
He opened his fist and the plait slipped against his palm as she pulled away, silk against his chilled skin. He tucked his hands back under the blanket, now wary and turned on. Great.
But damned if he would let anything distract him from his job. The mission was everything to him. He used to be a hardheaded fuckup, right up until the day when he was seventeen, standing on the flight line, pissed off at his mom for making him watch another air show. His dad had been flying in a formation of army helicopters, the same as he’d seen more times than he could count growing up.
Except that time, it had gone all wrong in a blink. One of the choppers crashed in front of all the spectators. In front of him. His mother and sister had started screaming along with everyone else. He hadn’t even known he was running toward the flames until hands tore at him, holding him back.
Someone else’s father had died that day, not his. His father had landed safely minutes later, but Wade changed. He grew up. No longer could he plow through life doing whatever the hell he wanted. Never again would he be forced to stand helplessly at the sidelines.
He was a rescueman now. And like it or not, this woman was his mission tonight.
Even if he closed his eyes after she woke to take her turn at keeping watch, no way in hell was he going to sleep.
***
Sunny had stared at Wade’s closed eyes for what had to be at least an hour. His breathing was even as he rested his head against his arms crossed on his bent knees, sleeping sitting up. This guy was obviously a pro at catching a nap anywhere, anytime. She’d struggled to get any rest at all, leaning against Chewie.
Wade had apparently learned the skill from his military training. She couldn’t sit that still even when she was awake. Her brother had told her once that a fifteen-minute nap in flight could be a matter of life or death.
One more check of Wade’s breathing, and she decided to make her move. The sun was just starting to splinter the inky sky. He would wake soon.
It was now or never.
She rested her hand softly on Chewie and signaled for him to stay quiet and still. One careful step at a time, she eased out from under the blanket and into the frigid cave. She shivered at the slap of cold air after the warm cocoon they’d created.
The fire had burned down to a few glowing coals that radiated little heat or light. Rays fingering through the opening gave her just enough illumination to gather her clothes, ease each piece on one leg, one arm at a time. She tiptoed back over to Wade and inched the blanket off Chewie.