Power: Special Tactical Units Division (In Wilde Country Book 3) by Sandra Marton Page A
Authors: Sandra Marton
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after me?”
“Yes.”
“Because?”
“Because,” he said, with a shrug of those broad shoulders, “this is something I do. Something I’ve been trained to do.”
“You’re part of a search-and-rescue team?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“What are you then? I mean, I know I was wrong, saying you were the general’s lapdog.”
“Is there a reason you refer to General Wilde as the general instead of as your father?”
“Is there a reason you won’t tell me what you do in the army?”
He smiled. “Nice return.”
“I play a mean game of Ping-Pong. When we get home, I’ll take you on. Winner buys the loser dinner.”
“And the loser gets…?”
“A week’s vacation in glorious San Escobal.”
His smile became a grin. That had to be a good sign. Maybe she could get some answers out of him.
For some crazy reason, it seemed important to know more about this tough, gorgeous, moody-as-a-thunderstorm guy.
“Why won’t you tell me what you do in the army?”
“Why do you assume I’m in the army?”
Alessandra rolled her eyes. “Do you always answer a question with a question? I’m assuming you’re in the army because you know my—you know the general.”
A small black ant caught his eye as it ran across the pot cover. Tanner brushed it away.
“I don’t know him at all. Turns out he knows my CO.”
“Your commanding officer.” She flashed him an aha smile of triumph. “I was right. You are in the army.”
“Nope.” He dumped the ant, ran his finger around the inside of the pot just to be sure it didn’t hold any other visitors, then clamped on the cover. “I’m in the navy.”
“You’re a sailor?”
“Why do you say it that way? As if it doesn’t seem possible?”
“It doesn’t. I mean, why would my…why would the general reach out to the navy for help?”
“Because my CO and he are old pals.”
She shook her head. “I can’t quite picture you doing whatever it is sailors do.”
“Sailors do lots of things. But you’re right. I’m not a sailor in the way you probably think of sailors. I belong to a division that deals in specialized field operations.”
Alessandra cocked her head, folded her arms and looked him up and down.
“Meaning, you’re not going to tell me anything else.”
“Meaning, I’m going to go look for that water so I can get back here and put together a shelter before sunset.”
She sighed. “Okay. Keep your secrets. But one last, really quick question…”
“Try to make it one I can answer.”
Her smile was all female. He felt it clear down to his toes.
“Do you, by some minor miracle, have a comb in that bottomless backpack?”
“Dig deep enough and you’ll find a small plastic brush.”
“Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome. Just be careful with it.”
“Trust me, Lieutenant. I know how to use a hairbrush.”
His lips twitched. “You’re liable to pull out handfuls of hair. You’ve got some burrs caught in it.”
Her hand flew to her head. “Where?”
He walked to where she stood.
“Here,” he said, taking her hand, guiding it to a thick tangle of gold. “And here…”
He leaned in.
Close.
Too close.
Their eyes met.
The air stilled.
Then he let go of her hand and drew back.
“Ten minutes,” he said, and he turned and got the hell out of there before he did something they would both regret.
CHAPTER FIVE
They’d lucked out.
There was a small stream just downhill from where they were camped. He heard the soft rush of the water before he saw it, all but hidden by a stand of leafy young trees.
It was good news all around.
He’d have to boil whatever water he collected, of course. It looked clear and clean, but water that looked clear and clean had a bad way of harboring nasty stuff too small to be seen by the naked eye. Boiling the water for fifteen minutes would make it potable.
As for the trees…
Tanner shrugged off the sling, let the pot and canteens fall to the ground. He selected several
“Yes.”
“Because?”
“Because,” he said, with a shrug of those broad shoulders, “this is something I do. Something I’ve been trained to do.”
“You’re part of a search-and-rescue team?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“What are you then? I mean, I know I was wrong, saying you were the general’s lapdog.”
“Is there a reason you refer to General Wilde as the general instead of as your father?”
“Is there a reason you won’t tell me what you do in the army?”
He smiled. “Nice return.”
“I play a mean game of Ping-Pong. When we get home, I’ll take you on. Winner buys the loser dinner.”
“And the loser gets…?”
“A week’s vacation in glorious San Escobal.”
His smile became a grin. That had to be a good sign. Maybe she could get some answers out of him.
For some crazy reason, it seemed important to know more about this tough, gorgeous, moody-as-a-thunderstorm guy.
“Why won’t you tell me what you do in the army?”
“Why do you assume I’m in the army?”
Alessandra rolled her eyes. “Do you always answer a question with a question? I’m assuming you’re in the army because you know my—you know the general.”
A small black ant caught his eye as it ran across the pot cover. Tanner brushed it away.
“I don’t know him at all. Turns out he knows my CO.”
“Your commanding officer.” She flashed him an aha smile of triumph. “I was right. You are in the army.”
“Nope.” He dumped the ant, ran his finger around the inside of the pot just to be sure it didn’t hold any other visitors, then clamped on the cover. “I’m in the navy.”
“You’re a sailor?”
“Why do you say it that way? As if it doesn’t seem possible?”
“It doesn’t. I mean, why would my…why would the general reach out to the navy for help?”
“Because my CO and he are old pals.”
She shook her head. “I can’t quite picture you doing whatever it is sailors do.”
“Sailors do lots of things. But you’re right. I’m not a sailor in the way you probably think of sailors. I belong to a division that deals in specialized field operations.”
Alessandra cocked her head, folded her arms and looked him up and down.
“Meaning, you’re not going to tell me anything else.”
“Meaning, I’m going to go look for that water so I can get back here and put together a shelter before sunset.”
She sighed. “Okay. Keep your secrets. But one last, really quick question…”
“Try to make it one I can answer.”
Her smile was all female. He felt it clear down to his toes.
“Do you, by some minor miracle, have a comb in that bottomless backpack?”
“Dig deep enough and you’ll find a small plastic brush.”
“Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome. Just be careful with it.”
“Trust me, Lieutenant. I know how to use a hairbrush.”
His lips twitched. “You’re liable to pull out handfuls of hair. You’ve got some burrs caught in it.”
Her hand flew to her head. “Where?”
He walked to where she stood.
“Here,” he said, taking her hand, guiding it to a thick tangle of gold. “And here…”
He leaned in.
Close.
Too close.
Their eyes met.
The air stilled.
Then he let go of her hand and drew back.
“Ten minutes,” he said, and he turned and got the hell out of there before he did something they would both regret.
CHAPTER FIVE
They’d lucked out.
There was a small stream just downhill from where they were camped. He heard the soft rush of the water before he saw it, all but hidden by a stand of leafy young trees.
It was good news all around.
He’d have to boil whatever water he collected, of course. It looked clear and clean, but water that looked clear and clean had a bad way of harboring nasty stuff too small to be seen by the naked eye. Boiling the water for fifteen minutes would make it potable.
As for the trees…
Tanner shrugged off the sling, let the pot and canteens fall to the ground. He selected several
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