AWOL with the Operative (11 page)

All the comforts of home. If your home resembled nothing more than a pioneer cabin, that is.

What are you complaining about, McDonough? Primitive or otherwise, this place is the haven you prayed for.

No way of knowing who the absent owners of the place were. He’d spotted a framed photograph on one of the walls in the living room. Two middle-aged guys with their fishing gear, proudly displaying their catches. They looked enough alike to be brothers, and possibly were. Could be the owners. Whoever did own the cabin, he blessed them for its existence.

Snow-filled bucket in hand, he went back inside and placed it near the hearth. It would take a while for the snow to melt. But the snow Eve had collected on her clothes during their trek had already melted. She must be wet clean through. Hell, even with the warmth of the fire, asleep or not, she would soon be shivering.

His own clothes were wet, as well. The obvious solution was for him to get both of them undressed and under a pair of warm blankets. Returning to the room with the twin beds, he hauled the other mattress out to the living room and placed it next to the first mattress.

A second visit to the bedroom produced a couple of blankets, which he tossed down on the empty mattress. The living room was warm enough now that he could afford to peel off his coat. After shedding the rest, his boots, gloves and earmuffs, he knelt down on the rug beside Eve and began to remove her damp garments.

His action was a necessity. There should have been nothing erotic about it. Yeah, and randy bastard that he was, he shouldn’t be getting all hot and bothered with each article of clothing he stripped away from her sensational body.

He couldn’t help it. She was so tempting lying there, such an irresistible woman, that he couldn’t keep himself from wanting her. The worst of it was, she never opened her eyes, never seemed in any way aware of his efforts. Damn, he was taking advantage of her.

Another thought struck him then. Maybe she wasn’t just sleeping. Maybe he should be worried about her state of unconsciousness. Which meant he ought to feel nothing but relief when, seconds later, his act of rolling her slacks down her long, shapely legs finally roused her. Well, he was relieved. But he also suffered a quick pang of guilt. She had caught him.

In the long moment that followed, her wide, green eyes searching his, the only sound in the room was the crackle of the wood burning on the grate. There was nothing accusing in her gaze, or in her voice when she got around to speaking to him softly.

“Are you seducing me, Sam?”

His own voice was raspy when he answered her with a slow “I’m trying hard not to, angel.”

“That’s too bad, but only sensible, I suppose. I do want you to make love to me, Sam, but right now I’m so tired I’m afraid I’d be asleep again before you could get in the first kiss.”

It was definitely arousing that she was letting him know without shyness that she desired him as much as he desired her. But, as she’d pointed out, not sensible.

“We’ll wait,” he reluctantly assured her.

“I promise to do better next time.” Her eyes closed. With a little sigh, she drifted off to sleep again.

He didn’t try to take off her panties and bra, which were all that remained on her body when he covered her with one of the blankets. He could endure only so much temptation.

He was exhausted himself. Too exhausted to even think about that food in the kitchen. That, also, would have to wait a bit.

Adding wood to the fire, he peeled off his own wet clothes down to the skin, stretched himself out on the other mattress and drew the second blanket over him.

Though there were only a few inches separating him from Eve, he managed to resist any contact with her. It was the only way he could will himself to sleep.

Chapter 5

E
ve came awake with a start to a multitude of eyes staring down at her. Eyes that gleamed like glass in the softly flickering firelight.

That, she realized, after a few seconds of staring back at them, was probably because they
were
glass. Or whatever material the taxidermist had used.

The trophies were mounted on the log walls all around the room. Fish mostly, possibly caught right here in the lake out front, but there were also the heads of two deer.

Eve found them a little intimidating, maybe because of the shadows in the room. The only illumination came from the dwindling fire, unless you counted the fast-fading twilight framed in the window across from her.

She must have slept away what had remained of the afternoon after their arrival at the cabin. Enough hours anyway that her body felt restored. And now it was almost night, and she was thirsty.
Very
thirsty, not to mention hollow with hunger.

Water was her priority, however, which was why she propped herself up on one elbow in an initial effort to determine just where she might find it. The liquid version, that is, because there was all that snow outside. It had satisfied them until now, and if it was necessary she could—

Eve got no further than that. Her sudden discovery of the sleeping figure on the mattress adjoining her own stopped her where she was. The sight of him had her catching her breath. Talk about intimidating!

Apparently, without his being aware of it, the blanket covering Sam had worked its way down to his waist. Or possibly, if the heat of the fire had made him too warm, it had been a conscious, deliberate action. Whatever the explanation, he was now naked from the waist up. And maybe just as entirely naked below that.

Not that she needed to imagine what was still under the blanket. What was above it was satisfying enough. Wide shoulders with the tattoo of a dragon wrapped around the biceps of one arm, a powerful chest lightly dusted with dark, curling hair and that hair arrowing down in a thin line to the promise of a flat abdomen. Whatever existence this man had lived before his memory loss, it must have included regular workouts to produce a raw, wholly masculine sexuality like this.

Eve interrupted her visual pleasure with the sudden realization that she was as nude as he was under her blanket. Or would be, if Sam hadn’t spared her her bra and panties. She had a vague recollection of his having stripped her of her wet clothes.

And this voyeurism, she told herself sharply, had gone far enough. She needed that water, and Sam would, too, when he awakened.

It wasn’t until she climbed to her feet, hugging the blanket around her tightly, that she saw the bucket of what was likely melted snow on the hearth. Sam again. It was time she made her own effort on their behalf.

She’d need a glass or a cup to dip water out of the bucket. The kitchen, or what passed for a kitchen in the cabin, would furnish that. And maybe, if she were very lucky, something that would keep them from starving.

Eve supposed that the room behind the living room was the kitchen. The light was so weak when she entered the area it was hard to tell. Only when she smacked into what turned out to be a cooking stove was she sure this was the kitchen. Groping her way around the stove, she reached a wall of cupboards. Her fingers felt dishes when she opened the first door. There was something else on the shelf. A box which might, or might not, contain food.

The kitchen was like a freezer, not at all conducive to any further investigation. Taking the box, along with a mug, she returned to the living room. It had chilled in her absence. The fire needed building up.

Placing the box and the mug on the mantel, she fueled the fire with wood from the basket before dipping the mug into the bucket. Then, with the box tucked under her arm, one hand gripping the mug and the other managing to hang on to her blanket, she settled cross-legged on her mattress.

Her first order of business was to check on Sam. A quick glance told her he was still peacefully asleep on his own mattress. Only then was she ready to satisfy her thirst.

Whatever the taste of the melted snow, she swallowed it gratefully while examining the box she’d transferred to her lap. The firelight informed her she had discovered a treasure. If the label was correct, the box contained sealed packages of saltine crackers!

The snapping of the burning wood on the grate had no effect on Sam. But the sound of her fingers eagerly ripping open one of those packages did. He sat up so suddenly his blanket slid even further down his body, threatening to reveal much more than his sleekly muscled, lip-licking chest.

Eve Warren, you are an absolute wanton as far as this man is concerned. You know that, don’t you?

Yeah, she did know it, which is why she lifted her gaze to his puzzled face, informing him quickly, “Crackers, Sam. I found crackers in the kitchen and a mug. Here, there’s still water in it, if you don’t mind drinking after me.”

He accepted the mug she held out to him with a slow, husky response that had her stomach doing flip-flops. “Angel, I’d love to put my mouth where your lips have been.”

He gulped from the mug. Eve was gulping herself. Only hers were dry gulps as she watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the water.

Was her interest that obvious? Was that why, when he lowered the mug, he asked her a simple “What?”

He’d caught her staring at him. She tried to correct what had plainly been a sexual fascination with a hopefully playful “Did you know you have a dragon on your arm? No, the other arm.”

He looked down at the dragon curling around his biceps. “So I do.”

Considering he hadn’t been out of his clothes since his memory loss—until now, that is—his surprise at the existence of a tattoo was understandable.

“I was just wondering if there was a story connected to it,” she said in a lame effort to maintain her innocence.

“Could be. I’ll have one of those crackers now, please.”

The next few moments were devoted to sitting there on their mattresses passing the box and the mug, which Sam refilled, back and forth to each other. At any other time the plain crackers they munched on would have held little interest for Eve. But in her present state of hunger they were as filling as a feast.

Between bites and sips, she found the courage to ask him, “I said some pretty crazy things out there on the ice, didn’t I?”

She had no clear recollection of exactly what those things were. She did, however, vividly remember just how warm and secure she had felt in his arms. But that was something she wasn’t ready to admit.

“I seem to recall,” he said with a teasing grin, “the promise of a fabulous meal once you got your hands on a stove and the right ingredients.”

“If all there is in that kitchen are crackers,
fabulous
it won’t be.”

“I noticed other stuff. But whatever you fix when you get around to it, I won’t complain. Anyway,” he went on, his voice deepening, “I found what you had to say while I was stripping away your wet clothes more interesting.
Much
more interesting.”

When his unmistakably intimate gaze focused on her with those suddenly slumberous eyes, Eve felt like a butterfly who has just been pinned. Clearing her throat, she managed a quick “About that…”

“So you do remember
that
promise?”

“I— Yes, I remember.”

She could feel his body heat as he shifted closer to her, making her woozy with an undeniable longing. “You are aware that I stripped away my own wet clothes,
all
of them, before I crawled under this blanket?”

“I can see that.”

“Uh-huh. Then, since we’re no longer either thirsty or hungry, and since you’re almost entirely naked yourself, I’d say this was the perfect time and place to make good on that promise.”

She put down the box of crackers currently in her possession. “Satisfy another need, you mean?”

He put down the mug in his own possession. “I can’t think of any reason not to. Can you?”

She could, had she permitted herself to address the consequences of their action when his memory returned. But, reckless or not, in this moment she wanted him too badly for that. “Not a single one,” she agreed, shedding any last remnants of restraint.

Whatever regrets might surface, she would count them later. Right now all she cared about was Sam’s mouth, which settled on her own. Lightly at first, his teeth and the tip of his tongue experimenting gently with her lips, carefully nipping and bathing them.

He was in no hurry. He must be thinking they had all night for this. Good for him, because she wanted to savor everything he had to offer her. And she did. The sensation of his firm lips tugging on her, the masculine scent that could only be his, his warm breath mingling with her own as they inhaled each other.

His patience was a virtue. Hers, she decided in the end, was nonexistent. He had to have sensed she was ready for more. That had to be why he began to kiss her. And, oh, how this man could kiss! With all the skill and concentration at his command, his lips branded hers before his tongue slid into her mouth, seeking and finding her flavor, inviting her to taste him in return. Eve did just that, her tongue searching for his, mating with it.