Polar Bared (7 page)

“I need to get you back to camp before any of his buddies find us.” Gene moved back a pace and held out a hand to help her stand.

As she reached for it, she noted the blood staining the sleeve of his torn coat. “You’re hurt,” she exclaimed.

“It’s nothing.”

Nothing to him perhaps, but Vicky didn’t do so well with blood. She swayed on her feet.

“Don’t you dare face plant on me now,” he growled. “Stick with me, Pima.”

“I really don’t like that name.”

“Then prove me wrong and stay upright.”

Swallowing against the dizziness, she averted her gaze. “Lead the way.”

He did, with a gun in hand. Just the fact that he had one was almost enough to send her into sweet oblivion, but somehow she managed to keep to her feet. One step in front of the other.

She stared at the back of his legs, focused on them to the point of hypnosis. When he stopped, she almost ran into his back. As it was, when he whirled, she’d stopped close enough for an up-close view of his jacketed chest.

“Is that your camp?”

She had to lean around him to peek. The mini tent village rose from the whiteness with a familiarity that signaled safety.

“That’s it,” she confirmed.

“Then this is where we part ways.”

He was leaving? Why did the thought make her sad? Surely, she didn’t want to remain with a man who nonchalantly announced people were out to kill him as if it were an everyday occurrence. Apparently she did because she asked, “Will I see you again?”

“No.”

How firmly he announced it. Not a maybe. Not even a possibility, which meant she wouldn’t have to face him again. But she could already predict he’d revisit her in her dreams. Her usually boring dreams.

If only I had a memory I could look back upon. Something positively daring and exciting. Arousing…

Somehow knowing she’d never have another chance gave her the courage to act. She took him unaware when her hands tugged at his head. He lowered it, and she rose on tiptoes to press her lips against Gene’s.

It might have been minus a zillion degrees outside, but that didn’t stop the fire that erupted with the kiss. His mouth parted, an exhalation of surprise brushing her lips. She almost drew back, but to her shock, his arms wrapped around her and lifted her. She might have started the embrace, but he took it over. More than that, he moved the kiss to a whole new level. A hot level.

Oh my god.
Forget the paltry embraces of her past.
This
was a kiss. This time when she almost swooned it wasn’t out of fear, but her first, genuine experience at what true desire felt like.

His mouth slanted over hers, tugging and sucking at her lower lip. She couldn’t help a small moan of pleasure. A sound that broke the spell.

Abruptly, she found herself apart from him, standing on wobbly legs, watching as he strode away. No goodbye. No final parting look.

Just a set of tingling lips and a memory she would never forget.

Unlike her camp, which seemed to have forgotten she existed. Heck, they’d never even noted she was gone. She strode into the mini tent city, still somewhat dazed, expecting to have to answer a barrage of questions. On the contrary, the few folks milling around didn’t spare her a second look.

No one had noted her absence. No one realized her tent remained empty overnight. No one cared.

She almost cried. The knowledge she had no one who gave a damn was enough to make her wish Gene had kept her after all. At least he seemed to notice her.

But Gene was gone. Forever. Bummer.

And stupid me, I never even got a picture.
No matter. His image would probably remain forever imprinted in her mind.

Walking away took more effort than it should have. It didn’t help that his bear roared at him to go back. It didn’t want him to abandon his Pima. It thought Gene should go back for another kiss. And more…

Complete and utter fucking madness.

Gene couldn’t offer Vicky anything, other than a fast screw because that was what it would be. Fast. The damned woman ignited all his senses with her bloody innocence.

He couldn’t believe she’d mustered up the nerve to kiss him. A clumsy, chaste embrace but still, one freely given. One truly enjoyed. A kiss that burned right through all his protective defenses and made him long for something he couldn’t even define.

It was best they split, she back to her camp with its wanna-be adventurers, him to his deadly existence hunted by both friend and foe.

She’s better off without me.

So why did it bother him so much? Why did he want to say fuck it and turn around to chase after her? Drag her back to his lair and take what she offered?

He didn’t. He kept walking, back to the scene of the shooting, back to the body he’d left behind, looking for answers, but only coming up with more questions.

He found the body where he left it. Frozen and still very dead. A deeper examination of the shooter didn’t provide any further clues as to his mission or if he was part of a larger group. The human bore no identification, just off-the-rack mishmashed cold weather gear and the rifle.

In order to keep whomever the dead man might work for guessing, Gene carried the body to the sea edge and tossed it, watching dispassionately as it sank.

Let those who hired him wonder what happened to the man. Let them worry.
Let ’em try again.

It still nagged at Gene that they’d sent a human. For some reason it just didn’t seem right.
He
knew it would take more than an amateur to take the Ghost down. So why waste the money? Or had his previous employer sent out an open bounty call? Would every idiot with a gun set out to hunt him? It would at least break the tedium of his day but seriously cut into his plotting-vengeance time. A vengeance he was less and less inclined to follow through with.

Somewhere along the way, Gene had discovered his anger diminishing. It had started with his encounter with Reid and really snowballed with his confrontation with Boris. A part of him had begun to step back from the dark emotions within to perceive events from another view.

For so long he’d blamed his former brother soldiers for not trying harder to find him when they escaped. For not rescuing him. When they said they didn’t know he lived, that they would have moved heaven and earth to save him if they’d known, he heard the truth in their words. Saw it in their faces.

Can I honestly say I would have done any differently than them?

He didn’t like the answer. But no longer blaming his old friends didn’t mean he was ready to beg for forgiveness and acceptance into their fucking Kumbaya—let’s all love each other—clan. Gene still preferred solitude to the inane chattering of people.

Pima doesn’t chatter.

Fuck him, how had his thoughts returned to her? Yes, Vicky might not irritate him with nonstop blabbing, but he did dislike her timid nature. The woman needed to stand up for herself. Predators preyed on the weak, thrived on inaction and demure acceptance. If she wouldn’t protect herself, then she should look into getting someone who would.

Like me.

No, not him. He had no use for a human girl afraid of her own shadow. Besides, with him gone, there was no one to make demands of her or frighten her into submission. By her account, her husband was dead, and hopefully she’d prove smart enough to stay away from that kind of abusive dick in the future. She was here alone, safe from harm if she stayed away from hunted polar bears—and coffee. The reminder that someone had tried to harm her returned to nag at him.

Gene believed her when she said she’d not drugged her own beverage. But if not her, then who, and why? Why would someone want to harm a hair on her cute little head?

Cute? Ack. Where did that thought come from? He almost gave himself a slap, but he didn’t want to lose his train of thought.

What if he had it wrong? What if the sleeping agent wasn’t supposed to put her asleep when she went for a walk and let her slip into a cold, painless death? What if someone meant to place her in a deep repose while she was in camp? Alone. Defenseless in her tent.

Vicky was attractive. What man in their right mind wouldn’t want to touch her soft, caramelized skin? Kiss those luscious, full lips? Hold on to those plentiful curves as he…

A growl rumbled from him, and not just him, his bear.

No touch. She’s mine.

Such a possessive declaration, which held no grounds. Yes, she’d kissed him. Probably a thank you, which he’d exploited—
because I’m such a greedy a-hole.

But that’s all it was. A kiss. A kiss that still burned his lips. A kiss that tasted of innocence, which was foolish. Vicky had admitted she was married. So she was definitely not a virgin. Yet, something in the way she embraced, the hesitation and uncertainty screamed of inexperience.

I’d love to teach her.

But he wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t let anyone steal that sweet innocence from her either.

Given someone had already made on attempt to incapacitate her, chances were they’d make a second. He should get her away from the camp. His bear agreed and took it one step further and suggested they bring her back to their den.

Bad plan, on so many levels. For one thing, with him attacked, Gene could only assume his hut was compromised. The other reason his bear’s plan wouldn’t work was he didn’t trust himself alone with Vicky. Especially if there was a bed nearby. A man had only so much restraint when it came to an attractive woman, and with her having shown such willingness in her kiss, his resistance to her charms was debatable.

What to do then? He couldn’t trust himself alone with her, yet he couldn’t leave her unattended and defenseless.

Big sigh. Again. It seemed he had a never-ending supply of those where she was concerned and to think he’d known her only twenty-four hours.

With no clear plan other than the one that insisted he offer her protection, Gene gave in to his bear’s idea.

Stashing his gear in a hollow he dug in the snow, he swapped shapes and lumbered to a promontory that gave him a nice view of the camp. If he couldn’t be around her as a man, then he’d watch over her as his beast.

He’d blend in better that way.

And probably scare the piss out of anyone who might try and broach her tent if he went charging in full polar mode at them.

A bear’s got to have some fun.

It still miffed Vicky that no one seemed to have noted her absence. Not even the tour guide. Was he so lax in his responsibilities that he didn’t bother to keep even a general eye on his charges?

The only person who really seemed interested in her reappearance was one of the creepy guys, the one she’d labeled Mullet—yes, the hair style was still alive and well, at least on this dude. It wasn’t the most attractive style, but it wasn’t as awful as how he made her skin crawl.

When she exited her tent to swap her empty water jug for a full one, his gaze followed her. She kept her eyes averted, got what she needed and scurried back. The fresh water wasn’t to make coffee though. Gene’s assertion that hers was drugged still bothered her, and she still wasn’t entirely sure she believed him.

Who would want to drug her? And how had they done it? She’d made the coffee herself from her jar of coffee crystals. No one had a chance to tamper with it, or so she thought. Yet, given her loopiness and fatigue, which, while possibly attributable to her almost freezing to death situation, did seem odd given she didn’t recall being particularly cold when the drowsiness first set in.

Whatever the reason for her glacier nap, she was steering clear of the instant crystals in favor of sealed juice-flavored sugar. In a cup she rinsed out beforehand, just in case.
If it’s good enough for astronauts, it’s good enough for me.
It didn’t make it taste any better, though, she thought, making a face at the sweet concoction.

With nothing better to do, she sat down on her cot and proceeded to dump out her knapsack, which contained her phone—which mocked her with its two service bars—and camera among other things. Some kind of intrepid explorer she was turning out to be. While she’d snapped a few pictures of her bear encounter, she’d not managed to get any of the man who rescued her.

A man who used his body to protect her from gunfire. A dangerous guy she dared to kiss—and who kissed her back.

Sigh.

For a guy she’d spent only a few hours with, she certainly missed his gruff nature. How she wished she’d gotten to spend more time with him, which was totally crazy.

The man was a stranger, one involved in some kind of violent thing, given people were shooting at him, and if Gene could be believed, he’d taken care of their attacker, permanently.

She shivered.
He admits to being a killer, and yet that doesn’t frighten me.
On the contrary, his dark side attracted her, which was taking her new adventure motto too far.

Coming on this expedition had been meant to expand her horizons, not end them as a dead bystander caught in the crossfire of some kind of arctic war.

But she was worrying about nothing. Gene was gone. As in not coming back, out of her life, never to be seen again. The only thing she would ever have of him was a memory.

Bummer.

A touch hungry, she went to fire up her propane stove, only to realize her tank was empty. She’d have to swap it out for a fresh one.

Exiting her tent, she practically ran into Mullet. She halted with a mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” With the tent at her back, she couldn’t quite give herself space, and he didn’t seem inclined to step away.

“How did you get here?”

What an odd thing to ask. She wrinkled her nose. “Excuse me. I don’t quite understand what you mean. I came here with everyone else. Remember, I was the one who got to piggyback with our guide and fell off.” The lurch of the snowmobile when they’d first set off took her by surprise to everyone’s vast entertainment. But the true embarrassment was when she was relegated to riding in one of the sleds with raised sides along with the supplies. Sure it was probably safer, and admittedly easier for her, but her cheeks burned at the public admission that she was a klutz.