Rogue Soldier. Dana Marton

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СКАЧАТЬ let the dog lick the wound for a few seconds before he pushed her head away and slid his scarf off his neck to use as a bandage. He barely got it tied when the dog bent to pull it off.

      “Sasha.” Tessa’s voice was firm.

      The dog stopped pulling at the scarf, but was now trying to squirm out of his hold and get off the sled.

      “Stay,” Tessa said.

      And Sasha finally lay her head on his lap with a pitiful whine of protest. Man, he felt bad for her. That bullet had been meant for him.

      “Take it easy, girl. You’ll be fine.” He scratched her behind the ear.

      The sled flew over the snow. They were out of firing range, but the men were still shooting, wasting bullets. He pressed his palm against Sasha’s wound, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding.

      “How bad?” Tessa asked.

      “She’ll live if we don’t run into any more trouble and can get help soon.”

      Tessa nodded and kept a good pace, calling to the dogs to spur them on, ignoring him for the next couple of miles.

      “Where is your base camp?” She switched to a lower pace once the huskies tired.

      “I don’t have one.”

      “Your supplies?”

      He shook his head, annoyed that he was embarrassed. He had tracked her down in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, rescued her from a group of terrorists. How in hell did she manage to make him feel as if that were insufficient?

      “So you came to get me because you didn’t want to starve and freeze alone?” She flashed him a look of contempt as only Tessa could.

      God, she was gorgeous.

      “They would have killed you.” He rubbed Sasha behind the ears.

      “Did it occur to you that I might have had a plan?”

      No it hadn’t. He’d heard that her research station had been attacked by some nutcases who were planning to blow up a chunk of the Alaskan pipeline, and he’d rushed after her against explicit orders that the SDDU was to stay out of this one since the CIA was handling the case.

      He’d been lucky to dig up as much information as he had. He’d never seen a case more hushed up. The Colonel about had a stroke when Mike had asked to be allowed to get involved whether the CIA wanted him or not. Apparently, the agency’s director had been making a bid to bring the SDDU under his supervision. One wrong move from anyone in the Special Designation Defense Unit, and the whole group could cease to exist as they knew it.

      A fat snowflake floated onto his nose, then more and more came, chasing each other down from the endless gray sky. For once he didn’t mind. Snow would cover their tracks.

      “So what was your plan?” He pulled his hood closer to his stinging cheeks, as the wind picked up and the clouds began dumping their loads in earnest, reducing visibility to a few yards. He shifted to shield Sasha from the elements as much as he could.

      “Have them drive around in circles until fuel ran out, then take the dog teams and leave them stranded,” she said.

      “Could have worked.”

      “Whoa!” She pulled on the reins and brought the team to a slow halt. “Let’s give them a little rest.” She stepped off the back runners and came straight to Sasha, knelt in the snow and buried her face in the dog’s fur, murmuring words of reassurance he couldn’t understand.

      “Come on, let me see you,” she said as she lifted the dog off his lap and took her into her arms. “You’re such a good dog.”

      She checked the bandage, and he was happy to see no fresh blood gush forth when she pulled up the edge.

      “Why don’t you set that up?” She nodded toward the jumble of furs he’d been sitting on.

      “They’ll catch up with us.”

      “Not yet. You cut the harness on the other sled. None of them can mush dogs worth anything, anyway. The weather is turning for the worse. We’re better off letting the huskies rest now so they’ll be ready to cover serious ground when the snow clears out.”

      She made sense. He yanked at the furs. They were all connected, a patchwork that made a good-size cover, at least ten by ten or so, the large polar bear fur in the middle surrounded by wolf pelts. He spread it and crawled under it, held up one end to let her in when she came back with the dogs. The shelter was pretty low, supported by their heads as they sat on the sled, uncomfortable.

      He took one of the rifles and jammed it upright into the front of the sled, using it as makeshift tent pole. One of the dogs growled at him when he stepped too close.

      “They’ll get used to you,” she said.

      He couldn’t resist needling her. “Scared to be alone with me? I thought these puppies could handle the cold.”

      “They can. They’re here to keep us warm.” She didn’t rise to the bait.

      Well, what do you know? She had matured.

      Man, things had changed. For one, three years ago they sure hadn’t needed a dog team for heat. Their wild and crazy escapades had been plenty hot.

      Obviously, she didn’t feel that way about him anymore. Walking out on him with the parting words “Drop dead” should have given him a clue.

      He’d been hoping for a warmer reunion, had entertained some fantasies while sleeping in the snow on the way to her—about Tessa Nielsen jumping into his arms in gratitude. Of course, the woman never could appreciate a good rescue. He should have remembered that.

      Sasha slid from between them, abandoning the humans for her canine family. Thank God her injury wasn’t worse.

      “Reminds me of one of Grandpa Fergus’s stories about a whole winter he spent in a cave in the highlands,” he said.

      She didn’t respond.

      She was mad all right. She used to love his Grandpa Fergus stories.

      They huddled in the dark silence of the tent. He assessed their situation and tried to come up with a workable plan, but it wasn’t easy with Tessa right next to him.

      He could have recognized her by scent alone. She’d never been one for perfumes, but she had her own unique feminine essence that made him think of soft warm places and the way she would taste if he pressed his lips against her neck just below her ear. The way her eyes would glaze over if he dragged his day-old stubble over that sensitive patch of skin.

      “So you and this Dr. Lippman, living out on the snowfields for months at a time, were…” He voiced the question that had been bugging him for days.

      Two dogs snapped at each other, and she recognized them from sound, called them by name and calmed them down before returning her attention to him.

      “Lovers? Is that what you want to know?”

      The СКАЧАТЬ