Operation: Midnight Guardian. Linda Castillo
to give away their hiding place and get them both killed.
Dry grass crunched as one of the killers drew closer. For a terrible instant Mattie thought he’d heard her panicked breathing. She imagined him raising the rifle and shooting them the same way he’d gunned down the three marshals. The urge to jump to her feet and run was strong. She could feel her muscles twitching as the flight instinct kicked in.
“Easy,” the man lying on top of her whispered. “Slow, deep breaths.”
But Mattie was beyond hearing, beyond logic. She tried breathing through her nose, but she could no more slow her breathing than a marathon runner who’d just run ten miles.
Grass and leaves rustled nearby and she knew one of the men was approaching. This is it, she thought. I’ve given away our hiding place and now they’re going to kill us.
The man on top of her shifted, and suddenly she was aware of the way his body fit against hers. Surprising her, he set his hands on either side of her face. His palms were warm and amazingly gentle as he brushed back the hair from her face. Mattie looked into the startling blue of his eyes. And even though the threat of death was so close she could feel the cold scrape of it against her spine, her only thought was that no man had ever looked at her the way this man did.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Saving our lives,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.
CUTTER CONSIDERED HIMSELF a master of improvisation. He possessed an uncanny talent for making the best of a bad situation and the ability to adapt to current conditions. They were traits that made him the best of the best. At the moment, kissing this woman seemed like the most expedient way to keep her from getting both of them killed.
He hadn’t expected to get caught up in the softness of her mouth. Sean Cutter didn’t get caught up in anything, especially when it came to his job. But that was exactly what happened when his mouth made contact with hers.
She tried to turn her head, but he caught her cheek with his palm and deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth—to protest no doubt—and he seized the opportunity to take the kiss deeper. Another mistake, he thought dazedly, but by then he’d stopped counting.
Her mouth was warm and wet against his. Her body was curvy and soft and fit perfectly beneath him. He could feel the warmth of her quickened breaths against his cheek. And despite the fact that they were seconds away from being discovered by four men who would not hesitate to execute them, he found his body responding to hers.
He struggled to control the hot rush of blood to his groin, reminding himself of all the terrible things that could happen next. But her mouth was incredibly soft, her body a promise of all the things he’d denied himself for what felt like a lifetime. And while Cutter was a whiz at improvisation, he hadn’t a clue how to stanch good-old-fashioned sexual arousal—no matter how dangerous.
But the kiss was working. Slowly her body relaxed against his, and her breathing slowed. Cutter broke the kiss and for several agonizing minutes neither of them moved while the four killers smoked cigarettes and spoke in a language he was all too familiar with. If the woman could feel his erection against her, she gave no indication. She was probably too terrified to notice. He should be, too, considering they were inches away from getting shot. But Cutter had already faced the worst thing a man could face. He didn’t have a death wish, but not much truly scared him anymore.
After what seemed like an eternity, the men moved on. Cutter lay on top of his prisoner for several more minutes, listening to the men’s retreat. Once he deemed it safe, he tossed the bush aside and rose.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Glaring at him, the woman sat up and with cuffed hands brushed at the leaves and dust on her clothes.
“Saving your life.”
A twig was sticking out of her hair. She was still wearing the slacks and jacket she’d worn to court. Both knees of her slacks were torn. The top button of her blouse had popped off at some point and he could see the lacy outline of her bra. Damn.
“You had no right to…to—”
“You were hyperventilating. If I hadn’t done something, you would have gotten both of us killed.”
Even in the semidarkness, he saw her pale. “Who are you?”
“I’m the man who’s going to take you back. For now, that’s all you need to know.”
“I don’t want to go back.”
He jabbed a thumb in the direction of where the four men had disappeared. “Maybe you’d rather take your chances with those cutthroats.”
“I’m innocent.”
Cutter couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Yeah, so am I.” Bending, he grasped her bicep to help her up.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said as she got to her feet.
“Here’s a newsflash for you, blondie. You don’t have a say in the matter.”
Of their own accord, his eyes did a quick sweep down the front of her. Even though her suit was rumpled and torn, he could see that she was slender and willowy and built just the way he liked. Her hands were cuffed, accentuating curves he had no right noticing at a time like this.
He removed the master key from his belt. “Give me your wrists.”
She blinked. “You’re uncuffing me?”
“We need to move quickly before those bozos realize they fell for the oldest trick in the book.” He glanced up at the sky. Storm clouds were billowing to the northwest. The weather had been an issue during his briefing in the Lear jet that had taken him from Chicago to a small airport in Kalispell, Montana. A cold front chock-full of nasty precipitation was barreling down from the Canadian border. Cutter figured they had another hour before the skies opened up. Hopefully, enough time to make it to the rendezvous point where the agency had a chopper waiting.
She offered her wrists. “Who were those men?”
“Old friends of yours, no doubt.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But a tremor went through her as he removed the cuffs. A shiver that didn’t have anything to do with the cold and told him she knew exactly what he was talking about. “Save it for your appeal,” he snapped, and shoved the cuffs into a compartment in his belt.
She turned to him, her eyes wide and beseeching. “I don’t know those men. And I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Another laugh squeezed from his throat, only this time it was bitter. “You sold out your country. As far as I’m concerned that puts you on the same level as those animals searching for you.”
As a man who had dedicated most of his adult life to protecting the country he loved, the thought of someone selling out for the likes of money disgusted him beyond words.
The problem was Mattie Logan didn’t look like a traitor. Blue eyed and blond haired, she looked wholesome and kind. But Cutter knew all too well that looks could be deceiving. Mattie Logan might look like the girl next door, but a traitor lay beneath the innocent facade. Remembering the way his body had reacted to her just a few short minutes earlier, he silently reprimanded himself for his weakness and vowed not to let himself be taken in again.
“I didn’t do any of what they accused me of,” she said.
“I don’t care.” And he didn’t. Not one iota. All he cared about at the moment was getting her to the chopper-pick-up location an hour to the south. “Let’s go.”
“Please,” she said. “You have to believe me.”
“I don’t have to do squat.”
“I would never compromise EDNA. That project was the greatest achievement of my career. I safeguarded it with my life.”
Cutter