Jade

Matthias Hawking proved to be as slippery as the Taliban. By midday three days later, as I sat in my bungalow, I was sick and tired of waiting around for him. How was I supposed to establish a working relationship with a freaking ghost?

I was pretty sure he was avoiding me on purpose. I may have avoided him too, on account of the simmering attraction that flared in me when I thought of him, something that happened way too often. My temp shot up when I remembered his kiss. The way his mouth had called to mine had my tongue anticipating the range of his flavors. Even now, I craved the feel of his mouth brushing against mine.

Heads up, marine. You are way out of line. This was what happened when a sexually intense being like me gave up sex. I was hornier than a troop of bonobo chimps, which was a lot to say since bonobos were considered the horniest animals in the world. My erotic intensity was coalescing into something raw and real. Anger was my fallback position, so that’s where I went. Matthias was really pissing me off. Where the hell was he?

I felt trapped in the station, simmering inside and suffocating in my own body. I needed to burn some steam. I strapped my bangs away from my face with an elastic headband and slid into my spandex shorts, threw a tank over my sports bra and laced on my tennis shoes. Because I never went anywhere without my camera, I fitted my smallest camera into my runner’s pack and strapped it around my waist. Time to run.

The station’s elevated walkways offered no reward for the athlete in me. I was bored after two rounds. I trotted over to the ranger’s camp and had the good fortune of arriving as a group of rangers clad in their PT uniforms formed up, jogged in formation around the rudimentary track and took off through the back gates at a decent pace.

I wondered if jogging along with the rangers would constitute breach of my agreement with the director. I quickly concluded that, as long as I stuck to the group, the director would find no fault with my actions. I wasn’t being reckless and I needed the exercise. Plus, Matthias was conveniently absent.

I took off after the rangers. The guard posted at the back entrance stopped me. He didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Swahili, so I pointed at myself and then at the group jogging down the road. He went into what was surely an eloquent explanation of all the reasons why I shouldn’t go with the rangers, but I didn’t get a word he said.

“I’m going.” I ducked under the gate. “No need to worry about me.”

“No, no, hakuna!” he called after me, a suggestion I didn’t take.

I took off at a good clip. I caught up with the rangers and followed in their heels as they jogged down a dirt road singing a melody—in English no less—a melody I immediately recognized from my training days.

Birdie, birdie in the sky

Dropped a present in my eye

Here he comes again, oh my,

I’m so glad that cows can’t fly.

The smile tugged my mouth. Matthias had trained his men with the same tools with which he’d been trained. There was something endearing about the knowledge, something wholesome and meaningful to the marine in me. My body fell into the comfortable, familiar rhythm. My feet pounded the ground at regulation pace. We jogged onto a red dirt road, trotting by the Maasai warriors herding their cows and the sporadic huts that dotted the landscape. This was great, exactly what I needed. My mind cleared. The anger lifted and I began to enjoy the sights.

Fifteen minutes into the run, a vehicle rattled on the road behind me, engine revved, gears cranking. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the tan Land Rover speeding on the track like a bat out of hell. Well, looky here. At last. I’d caught the game warden’s attention.

The Land Rover’s brakes screeched as it caught up with me.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”

I would’ve recognized that bossy, pebbly voice anywhere in the world. I glanced over to the car and confirmed that, sure enough, the great Matthias had arrived, suddenly materializing from his exile. He drove the truck, elbow bent over the open window, face set in his best scowl. Zeke was with him, sitting on the passenger side.

“Hey, Zeke.” I waved at a jog. “How are you doing?”

He lifted a tentative hand that wilted under Matthias’s ferocious glower.

“Stop,” Matthias barked. “You are not allowed out of the station.”

“Technically speaking,” I said between breaths, “I’m not allowed alone out of the station while working.” I pointed to the men ahead of me. “Not alone. Not working.”

“I’m not gonna ask you again,” Matthias said, driving at my speed. “Stop. Right now.”

Nothing like a direct order from someone who was not my commanding officer to provoke my defiance. I fixed my gaze forward and kept up the pace.

Matthias cursed. The Land Rover accelerated ahead of me, swerved violently, and came to an abrupt stop between me and the rest of the group, raising a cloud of dust and completely blocking the road. The door flew open and Matthias stepped out, ears red as a pair of ripe apples.

The fury on his face persuaded me against detouring around the truck to keep up with the rangers. The way he planted his feet apart and perched his fists on his hips dared me to bypass him. My anger flared. I was this close from taking off. I so wanted to give him a run for his money.

I reminded myself of the promise I’d made Hannah. I’d come to Africa to do a job. To do that, I had to get along with the game warden. I slowed down and came to a stop before him, determined to get a lid on my temper.

He more or less growled. “What part of ‘you are not allowed out of the station without my express authorization’ did you not understand?”

“The part where you are nowhere to be found and I need to get my stuff done.”

“I’m busy,” he said.

“Good for you.” I whipped up my chin. “I’d like to be busy too.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath. “What’s your damn problem, marine? Did you forget how to follow orders?”

“You’ve got the marine part right,” I said, “but I no longer follow orders, especially not yours, not after you reneged on your word and disappeared on me.”

“I did not renege on my word,” he bit out. “I’m simply doing my job to make sure that the conditions are right for you to be in the field.”

“Ha!” I said. “That’s a lame excuse and you know it. And what am I supposed to do while you take your sweet time? Sit on my ass and eat bonbons? Grow old, weak, and frail?”

“You are not supposed to be training with the rangers, that’s for sure.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a distraction, that’s why.”

“Me? A distraction?” I scoffed. “How?”

His frown deepened. “You know how.”

“Please.” I crossed my arms. “Enlighten me.”

His mouth tightened. His gaze slid up and down, reminding me of the way his hands had felt on my body. I had to repress the frisson that pebbled my skin. He could stir my horny like no other man on the planet. I lashed back at him for the provocation.

“Are you implying that I’m a distraction because I’m female?”

“I’m not gonna go there with you,” he said. “But I won’t lose a ranger to injury because some fool is trying to get a bearing on your ass or your boobs. So get in the truck.”

“I don’t want to get in the truck,” I snapped. “Even prisoners of war are given an opportunity to exercise.”

“Jesus.” He clenched until his jaw flinched. “You’re like an IED stuffed with explosive attitude. You know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it before. Still, I need to move. I need my run.”

“You need your run?” He glared. “Fine.”

He turned to the truck, opened the door, and threw his Tilley hat in the backseat. He perched his Oakleys on his forehead, unbuttoned his khaki shirt, and stripped down to his olive T-shirt. His movements were efficient and precise. His tugs were curt and angry. Still, it was hard not to notice that the moisture-wicking T-shirt hugged his body nicely.

I found myself admiring his upper body’s competent build, the way his long, lean torso flattened at the belly and narrowed at the waist, only to flare back into the solid bulk of his ass and the strength of a powerful pair of thighs. He was fine-looking, if I said so myself, and if he kept the strip tease going, I’d volunteer for an exploration beyond his pants, with a special assignment to discover what lurked beyond his zipper.

Earth to Jade. Under my rules of limited engagement, looking was fine. Ogling was stupid. Salivating was downright forbidden.

Matthias grabbed his rifle from the rack, slid his arm under the strap, and secured it on his back. “Go on, Zeke.” He slammed the door shut. “I’ll meet you there.”

Zeke slid over to the driver’s side seat and buckled in. He gave me a look that said “good luck,” lifted a hand in farewell, and drove the Land Rover down the track.

Matthias flicked his sunglasses onto his nose. “You, with me.”

I eyed him dubiously. I wasn’t exactly in a compliant mood. On the other hand, I was supposed to make this work somehow. One other concern had me hesitating. Hannah usually changed into a specially designed prosthesis for running, but I didn’t really know the extent of Matthias’s injury.

“Are you sure?” I said.

“You mean because of my leg?”

The indignation that flickered in his eyes kept me from admitting to any concerns.

“You wanna run?” He glowered. “We run.” He broke into a jog and called out over his shoulder. “Do try to keep up.”

Keep up? I repressed another surge of irritation, bounced after him and caught up in ten seconds. He set a good, demanding pace and although his strides were longer than mine, I was able to jog alongside comfortably. He kept excellent form as he ran, tall body alignment, light midfoot strike, forward lean and a steady, ideal, almost precise cadence. Watching him run beside me, no one could ever guess his secret.

Okay, so he could run. So what?

My muscles warmed up to the radiant sun. My chest opened up and I fell into his rhythm. I really loved running. It made me feel free. It was even better as we jogged through a road junction, where a ten hut town stood, complete with dogs barking, kids playing with a troop of olive baboons, and a tiny one-counter store where a freshly slaughtered goat hung from a rope, bleeding out into the road.

I leaped over the blood puddle and glanced at Matthias. He hadn’t even broken out into a sweat yet. His breathing flowed easily and the lines around his mouth relaxed. I guessed he liked running as much as I did.

I raised my voice over the quiet thump of our feet. “I heard you’ve been out on patrol for the last couple days. Did you catch up to Kumbuyo?”

Matthias’s quirked an eyebrow. “Fishing for information?”

“Sure,” I said. “It’s my job after all.”

“Not a trace of the bastard,” he said. “By now he’s running way outside the park boundaries. I need you to understand: Kumbuyo is dangerous and you must obey my instruction and remain inside the station as agreed.”

No way was he going to let me enjoy the run without forcing his authority on me. Nope. He just had to piss all over my best intentions to make his point.

“I don’t know what the big deal is,” I muttered. “By your own admission, Kumbuyo is far away. It’s perfectly safe out here.”

“Perfectly safe?” He grabbed my arm and yanked me into an abrupt stop right beneath the shade of a humongous baobab that, judging by its size, was probably at least five hundred years old. “Look down.”

I jerked my arm from his hold. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Look down,” he repeated. “What do you see?”

“Oh.” All traces of annoyance dissipated as I saw the markings on the ground. “Animal tracks?”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Back pad, three lobes, no claws.” I groped for my camera while recalling the details of my research. “Cats?”

“Lions to be precise.”

“How do you know it’s not a leopard?” I said, angling around the prints to get the best possible shots.

“Size mostly, but also numbers. Leopards are solitary animals. Lions usually travel in groups.” He crouched on the ground and traced a finger around a particularly large print. “This one here is the front paw of a big male. You can tell because it’s larger, broader, deeper.”

I crouched next to him and kept taking pictures as he spoke.

“These over here look like lionesses,” he explained. “More of them. Lighter, smaller, but still larger than a leopard’s. They were moving fast as they passed through. Hunting probably.”

It was fascinating to watch Matthias read the land with such competent precision. He laid his large, sun weathered hand next to the big male’s paw. I took pictures of the striking contrast. His hand looked small and almost delicate by comparison.

My head snapped up. His gaze preyed on me.

“The week before last a villager was taken right on this spot,” he said. “We found only certain parts of him. The head, gnawed but not eaten. The thighbone, thoroughly chewed through.” He nodded his chin in the direction of the crossroads, where the little town was still visible in the distance. “He lived down there all his life. He knew the risks. Research indicates that prides have hunting systems. Every member of the pride has a specialized function. The villager who got killed would’ve known that he was looking at a decoy the moment he spotted the lioness’s head popping out from the grass, say…” his eyes roamed the brush, sparkling with feline-like intensity. “Over there, across the road. He knew she’d be a distraction and yet they still got him. Because out here, humans and beasts, we are equal. We are all nutrition for someone else.”

My gut iced. My fingers tightened around my camera. I scoured the area looking for lions, leopards, Kumbuyo, whatever. I drew some small comfort from Matthias’s closeness, from his strength and experience, and especially from the fact he was carrying a weapon and he knew how use it. His point had been completely made. Matthias had just taught me a brutal lesson, one that I was never going to forget.

* * *

Matthias

In my experience, when it came to teaching hard lessons, showing always worked better than telling. Judging by the widening of Jade’s eyes, she’d gotten the point. Without saying another word, I straightened on my feet and resumed my run. Jade stuffed her camera in her runner’s pack and took after me, catching up in ten strides.

“I’m not stupid,” she spat, coming up at my three o’clock.

I shot her a sideway glance. “I know that.”

“The thing is…” She grappled with her words. “I can’t stand being trapped.”

“Yeah, I get that loud and clear.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

Her combustible temper flared. “None of your business.”

“Right.” I smirked. “Not the stellar conversationalist, I see.”

“Shut up and jog.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I quickened my pace and gained about three strides on her.

Oh, no. She wasn’t the type to be left behind. She caught up with me right away. There was no scenario in the world were Jade trailed, let alone followed. The only reason she hadn’t stuck me in the wake of her dust was because she was taking it easy. She was holding back for obvious reasons, trying to cut me some slack.

Fuck this. No way I wanted any slack from her. I might be lame, but I was no slow poke. My hands fisted. My leg muscles gathered as I pushed the pace. She needed a workout? I was gonna give it to her.

“Hey there,” I teased when she caught up again, bouncing next to me. “I was wondering why you were going so slow, marine. A runner as fit as you should enjoy a faster pace. Or perhaps you were slacking off for a reason?”

She gave me her “eat-shit-and-die” glare.

“It’s my leg, isn’t it?”

“No.” She didn’t sound very convincing.

“Right.” I smirked some more. “I suppose I should thank you for not outing me to the director.”

“You made me real mad,” she puffed between breaths. “So it was a close thing.”

“Believe me, mad, I get,” I said. “Still, I wonder why you didn’t.”

“Outing you offered me no tactical advantage.”

“Tactical advantage.” I sniggered. She was full of it. “I like that one.”

She reacted to the sarcasm in my voice like a match to the flame. “Are you always a jerk or do you have a problem with me?”

“Oh, I have a problem with you all right,” I said. “Several problems in fact. You don’t follow commands. You’re surly as hell. You’re always looking for trouble and you think you’re immortal. So yes. You’re my nightmare scenario. No doubt about it.”

“You know what?” she said, accelerating as she spoke. “I don’t have to put up with your bullshit.”

“That’s more like it.” I met her pace stride for stride. “Is this the best you can do or are you still holding back?”

“Fuck you.”

She was an excellent runner. Best in her unit, I’d heard as I worked the military grapevine. She wasn’t nicknamed Turbo Jade for nothing and she was getting ready to teach me a lesson. Well, I was goddamn ready.

Fury lengthened her strides. Excellent form and technique fueled her burst of speed. Drawing disciplined breaths, she pulled ahead of me, giving me a hell of a view of her straight back, her long legs, and her magnificent ass. Talk about a carrot for this mule. I’d run back-to-back marathons with a ninety pound ruck on my back every day if I got to chase her ass the whole way.

I was so distracted by the view that she managed to put some distance between us. I knew better than to give her an advantage. I sped up. It felt good to run at the top of my range. My heart rate climbed up. A sheen of sweat broke out on my forehead and drenched my back. My body relished the endorphins released at the peak of my runner’s high. Another village lay ahead, this one bigger and busier. Jade made for it, increasing her pace, determined to get there well ahead of me.

But I had my pride and I was gonna keep up. Ignoring the pinch on my calf, I increased my tempo to the next level, recalling a time when I’d ran on my own two legs and beat the best runners in my SEAL teams. Then I pushed myself beyond that and gave myself entirely to the ultimate thrill of chasing Jade.

* * *

Jade

A glance over my shoulder showed me that although I’d succeeded at putting some space between us, Matthias wasn’t giving up. He was maybe fifteen strides behind, chasing after me, his running form unbroken, feet pounding the ground a little heavier than before but pumping a lot faster.

By the time we hit the town’s main street he was seven strides behind me. He didn’t slow down as we dodged a pickup truck loaded with passengers. Dogs barked at us. The villagers exchanged puzzled looks as we dashed through town. We must have looked completely out of our minds, two crazy westerners bolting through their streets for no good reason.

I sped up and so did he, even as we turned the corner onto a road that dead-ended on a chain link gate. I glanced back and he was close, a lot closer. Faster. My heart boomed in my ears. My breath came in short, shallow gasps. A stitch chiseled my side. I was now over my sustainable speed, way over. I couldn’t shake him. But, no, he wasn’t going to beat me. I was determined to win.

I looked over my shoulder and found him right there, four strides behind me. Sweat darkened his T-shirt. Effort strained his body and yet he kept at it, back straight, chest out, hands pumping at his sides. This was no mad dash on his part. This was a SEAL on a mission and failure was not an acceptable option. Our eyes met and we accelerated in unison, responding to our mutual challenge.

My vision tapered into a narrow tunnel. I registered a cluster of buildings behind the chain link fence, but I focused on the gate ahead of me. I sucked in the air, inhaling mouthfuls of grit, dust, and gas fumes. My thighs burned. So did my lungs. My feet ached as they pummeled the ground. The stitch beneath my ribs grew into a painful stab.

I gritted my teeth, tucked in my chin and forced myself forward in a last ditch effort to add momentum to my sprint. Another glance. Matthias was three strides behind me, lips tight over his teeth. Damnit. He shouldn’t be able to run like this.

A figure moved into my range of vision ahead. A man opened the gates, maybe Zeke. Twenty meters. Matthias, two strides behind me. Ten meters. Matthias, right on my tail. Five meters. Matthias, right there with me as we leaned forward and bolted together through the gates.

End of the road. No place to go. Courtyard. I came to a stop before the steps. Pain. Air, I needed air. I bent over my knees and gasped, heart pounding wildly in my ears and threatening to go into arrhythmia. Breathe, I commanded myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matthias, also bent over his knees, T-shirt and hair soaked with sweat, wide chest rising and falling like the swells of a stormy sea. I had to give it to him. He could run. Hell, he’d almost beat me. Almost, but not quite. He’d kept up with me and that was rare, exceptional, and precious.

Zeke stepped up to us and handed us bottles of water. I clutched my bottle, but couldn’t drink yet. I was too focused on breathing. My stomach heaved and my legs wobbled.

Hands on his hips, Matthias straightened on his feet. In that instant, I spotted a wince on his face. My gaze slid down his leg. A reddish brown stain blotched his khakis below the knee. I was hot as hell and yet my stomach froze. Was that blood on his pants?

“You okay?” I gasped between heaves.

His gaze followed the line of my eyes to his calf, but if he saw the blood, he never acknowledged it. Instead, he flashed me a cocky smirk. “Never better. You?”

“Fabulous.”

I straightened and tested my legs. Okay. At least I could stand. Matthias poured half the bottle over his head and neck. Water ran down his face, shimmering under the African sun, liquid light pouring over his profile and washing off sweat, grime, and exhaustion. He gave his head a good shake, refreshing me with a mini-shower of droplets that flew everywhere. With his face flushed and his hair standing up every which way and gleaming with reddish glints, he looked like a fiery god. Crap. He looked sexy.

I put my bottle to my lips and moistened my mouth, struggling to get a hold of my physical reactions. I was still dazed, flushed and panting from the run. I’d meant to be considerate at first but then… Son of a bitch. He’d provoked me into a race. On purpose. Why?

Because he refused to make allowances or accommodations for his disability. Because he would not accept pity from me, from anyone. And because he was as competitive and challenge-driven as I was.

The world around me went still. My gaze met Matthias’s. For an instant, it was only he and I, existing in a vacuum where we shared the precious oxygen that kept us alive as we struggled to replenish our lungs. His shadow lengthened under the sun and merged with mine on a bed of red dirt. I recognized the emotions in his eyes—pain, pride, victory, and defiance. I felt them too. And then the world barged in.