the near-freezing temperature. It got damn cold in the desert at night. His knees and elbows propelled him quickly to the stone house, and as he slowly came to his feet alongside the blacked-out window, he quietly released the breath he’d been holding. So far, so good.
Just as he’d expected, there were no guards posted on the perimeter. Apparently, these guys felt pretty secure. Bad for them, Travis thought, good for us.
He lifted the window sash and prayed that the intel they’d received before starting this mission had been completely accurate. If there were guards in the room with her, then all hell was about to break loose. Travis paused for a heartbeat or two, to listen. When he was convinced that it was still safe, he slipped into the darkened room, moving as quietly as combat boots allowed.
His vision already adjusted to the blackness, Travis had no problem locating the woman. She was lying on her back upon the only piece of furniture in the room—a narrow cot. Her deep, even breathing told him she was asleep. In a few steps he was beside her. Clamping one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, he waited for her to wake up.
Instantly she did just that.
And he almost wished she hadn’t.
She fought against his hold on her like a tiger coming out of her cage looking for dinner. Arms, legs, teeth joined the fight, and Travis was hard-pressed to contain her. Keeping his hand over her mouth, despite the teeth digging into his palm, he pinned her to the cot beneath his own body and muttered, “U.S. Marines. Knock it off, lady. I’m here to get you out.”
She stopped fighting just as quickly as she’d started.
He stared down at the whites of her eyes and watched them narrow dangerously. Then very deliberately she reached for his wrist and yanked his hand from her mouth.
Finally, he thought. A little gratitude.
“It’s about time,” she snapped, and shattered his little hero fantasy.
A flash of anger shot through him, followed by a blast of sheer fear. He threw a glance at the door across the room, then looked back at the woman who was about to blow this whole damn thing.
Keeping his voice no more than a whispered threat, he ordered, “Lady, shut up and get moving.”
“Fine,” she said softly, already swinging her legs off the cot and standing up. “But for heaven’s sake, you people took your own sweet time about getting here.”
“Oh, for the love of—” He didn’t even finish the oath. Didn’t have time. Had to get moving before her captors took it into their heads to check on their little pot of gold. “Follow me,” he said, and headed for the window and escape.
“I need my purse.”
“Forget it,” he muttered, peering out into the darkness before turning to help her across the sill. Stunned, he saw she hadn’t followed him at all. Instead she was flat on her belly, reaching under the damn cot for her damn purse.
He stalked back across the room and grabbed her elbow. “There’s no mall here. You don’t need daddy’s credit cards. And there’s no time for this, princess,” he muttered.
She yanked free of his grip, then, meeting hostility with pure venom, she said, “I’ve waited two weeks for you. You can wait another minute for me.”
Short of hitting her over the head and dragging her ass out of there, he didn’t have much choice. Through his headset, he heard a whispered question come through loud and clear. “Where the hell are you?”
Scowling, Travis touched the black band at the base of his neck, pressed the sensitive throat mike to his larynx and muttered, “Waitin’ on princess. Comin’ right out.” He kept one eye on the closed door and mentally ticked off the seconds as they passed. There were too many of them. They were asking for trouble, he told himself. This couldn’t be good. “Move it, lady.”
“Got it,” she said, and stood up, holding a white leather saddle bag dangling from what was probably a real gold chain. She slipped it over her head so that the chain lay across her chest and the purse settled at her hip. Then she nodded at him, and Travis grabbed her and propelled her toward the window—and freedom.
“Come on, now,” he prodded. “Climb out and let’s get gone.”
She sat on the window ledge, gathered up her skirt and started to swing her legs through. Then she stopped. “You know,” she said softly, “you could be a little nicer, here. I am the victim, remember?”
Travis sucked in a gulp of air. He was seriously beginning to doubt that. In fact, another few minutes of this and he was going to start feeling some real sympathy for her abductors.
He bent down, put his face just a breath away from hers and whispered, “Listen up, princess. We got about a minute and a half to get clear of this place and still have time to make the chopper pickup. Now, you want to move that pretty ass of yours before I kick it into gear?”
Her eyes widened and for a second, there, it looked as though she might argue. Then apparently she changed her mind. Swinging her legs over the window ledge, she dropped onto the desert floor and waited for him to follow.
There was just no time to throw her to the ground and try to slink out the way he’d come in, Travis told himself. Instead he took a tight grip on her upper arm and dragged her along behind him as he made a run for cover.
Stumbling and muttering under her breath, she managed to keep up. Barely. And as soon as he hit the low clump of bushes where the others were waiting, he dropped into a crouch, pulling her down beside him, then released her.
Deke glanced at her before fastening his gaze on Travis. “Jeff’s at the rendezvous point. Let’s move.”
“Move where?” the woman asked.
“Right behind ya,” Travis muttered, ignoring her and her question.
In seconds Deke and J.T. had melted into the low-lying bushes, and Travis pushed the woman after them. “Get going,” he said, then added, “and keep low.”
Thankfully, she kept quiet and did as she was told. Travis threw one last look at the stone hut behind them, then moved silently off after her, guarding their escape. His mind blanked out as it always did at times like this. He did what he had to, when he had to. He didn’t think. Didn’t question. Just moved on instinct.
His gaze swept the landscape, back and forth, but kept drifting back to the woman in front of him. Her stupid full skirt snagged on every bush she passed. He shook his head and clenched his teeth together to keep from shouting at her to hurry up. Already the others were too far ahead of them. She was slowing everything down.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “Can’t you move any faster?”
Lisa Chambers stopped dead and glared at him over her shoulder. She’d had just about enough. Two weeks of sitting in that cramped little hot box, surrounded by men who wore bandoliers of ammunition with the aplomb her father’s friends wore cummerbunds; and now this. She was hot, tired, hungry, cranky and she’d gone way too long without a bath. She for darn sure wasn’t going to stand for some Southern-fried Marine cursing her for walking too slowly.
Cold night air crawled over her skin, sending
