He wanted to laugh. Or take her down to the ground and make love to her until this little bit of the world spun off into space and shot past the sun.

For now, the best he could do was cradle his automatic rifle and start moving stealthily out of the trees.

* * *

A soft breeze ruffled the knee-high grass.

Dec took his time making his way through it, every sense on high alert. As a SEAL and then as a STUD, he’d learned to listen as much as look, to be aware of all the sounds around him.

The sounds here were positive. Bird calls. Insect songs. A good indication that nobody was waiting in ambush. Still, he wasn’t about to take anything for granted.

By the time he reached the rocky escarpment, he knew they’d found exactly the right place to spend the night. The rocks formed a natural stone wall, solid and impenetrable, that rose at least twenty feet above the ground.

Quick exploration showed him a bonus. A cave, cut deep into the rock. He checked for signs of life, human or animal. Except for bones that looked as if

they’d been there for years, the area was clear. Outside the cave, there was a stand of young trees with enough downed branches to provide an easy source of kindling and firewood. The pond looked clean, but he had water purification tablets and he intended to use them just to play safe.

Dec waved Annie in.

He watched her as she made her way across the meadow.

Her gait was steady, but as she drew nearer, he could see that her face was flushed with exertion. Her forehead and chin were streaked with dirt. Her camo pants were torn and there was a rip in the sleeve of her sweater.

She’d been through more bad stuff in a handful of days than most people would face in their lifetimes and no matter how many questions he had, he’d been a goddamn badass in the way he’d dealt with her.

The least she deserved now was as much of a meal as he could manage and a night’s rest. His interrogation could wait until morning.

He walked through the meadow to meet her.

“You okay?” he said.

She nodded. “I’m fine.”

Dec took the horse’s reins from her and as they headed towards the rocks he thought about the women he knew, especially the ones who hung out at the Landing Zone in hopes of hooking up with guys from the Units. The blonde, for instance, the one he’d brought home with him only—what was it? One day ago? Two days ago?

He’d lost touch with real-world time.

The blonde and the others like her were all the same.

Crop tops and tiny skirts. Nosebleed stilettos. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup.

Perfect availability.

A few beers. A little light banter. Some time on the dance floor. Next stop, bed.

He’d never been much on overnights. Bring a woman home, fine. Do your thing, smile, put her into a taxi or drive her home if she hadn’t brought her own car. Take her to her place, that was fine too. Simpler, actually. You could always check your watch, say it was getting late and then you were gone.

The key was not to let things drag on or you could find yourself facing the I’m-gonna-make-you-breakfast routine, that pseudo-domestic intimacy he wanted no part of.

Not that he was a complete boor.

He liked women. He had no wish to hurt their feelings. He was always polite. Sometimes, he sent flowers the next day, but the big thing was getting on with his life.

Still, he’d ended up trapped in morning rituals enough times to know it could take a woman an hour to get herself ready for the world.

The glop they put on their faces. The stuff they used on their eyes. He’d once had the misfortune of seeing a woman contour her face.

Contour her face.


Tags: Sandra Marton Special Tactical Units Division Romance