Another small modern convenience that she had taken for granted. A simple shower. She took her time, still working at the emotion that was tying her up in knots. As long as she lived, she would never forget the sight of him running towards such danger. She didn’t want to cry in front of him again. With trembling fingers, her body still on fire, she rubbed vigorously at her hair, no blow dryer in sight, so she combed and braided it to keep the wet strands out of her way.

Tucking the end of the towel right between her breasts, she opened the bathroom door and stopped dead. She was met with the most arousing sight she’d ever seen in her life.

Bowie was on the bed, naked, except for his dog tags, his thick erection hadn’t abated, because his hand was wrapped around it. His eyes were closed and his face taut with pleasure.

Her stomach did a free-fall tumble that had nothing to do with the emotions she had been wrestling with and everything to do with her intense attraction to Bowie. God, the man was so sinfully gorgeous he ought to be deemed illegal. Especially the way he was working his shaft, exuding an earthy, sexual magnetism, one she was finding dangerous on so many levels—physically, emotionally, mentally just as she’d told him. The fact that this man had the ability to affect her so completely was a scary prospect she wasn’t prepared to face or deal with.

She wanted to remember him like this when they did part ways.

“Are you starting without me?”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that stimulated her from head to toe. He stirred, his eyes opening slowly and only to half-mast over that heartbreaking, velvety blue, a dark brow lifted lazily, as did one corner of his mouth.

“Nope, just keeping things at attention.”

He reached up, but she slapped his hand away. “Just give me a minute, Lieutenant Pushy. I’m still taking a tour of what you have to offer.” It was a lot of gorgeousness to take in with his broad shoulders, wide, heavily muscled chest, rounded biceps. His erection lying on a set of very impressive abs, a tantalizing line of hair leading to a woman’s bliss.

“Are you? Seems to me that I should be accorded the same courtesy.” She stood there, his hot blue eyes caressing every inch of her, exuding a sexual kind of tension that seemed to increase with each passing second. “C’mon, cupcake, get rid of the towel. I’m dying to see you.” Even when he was pleading, he was all arrogant, presumptuous male.

Unable to refuse him anything or herself for that matter, she set her hand at the tuck of the towel and released the tension. As the terry fell away, his eyes flashed, taking in the whole length of her, his face softening. “Damn, babe.”

She put a knee on the bed unable to take her eyes off all his naked flesh and rippling muscles. She wanted to put her mouth so many places on his body, she was momentarily nonplussed. His dark hair was tousled and spiky, thick and glossy, adding to his badass appeal.

“I really like the way you’re looking at me, but I’d like more action.” When she didn’t move, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her on top of him. Her heart stuttered and then resumed its frantic pace. She dipped her head down, covering his tantalizing mouth, the stubble on his face scratchy and arousing. She kissed her way to his chin, breathing deep of his scent, a mixture of soap and man. “Ride me, cupcake. I need that sugar rush.”

It was an order she wasn’t going to refuse. Aching to taste him, all of him, continuing the sensual journey, she moved down the column of that strong throat, licking the taut cords. Then to the hard points of his rigid nipples. She laved them, grazed the tips with the edge of her teeth, her nails scraping over his rib cage down to his waist. A groan rumbled from his chest as she traveled her way lower, spreading hot, wet kisses on his hard, rippled abs and flat belly. Then she used the tip of her tongue and her nails on the tantalizing flesh just above his erection while he sucked in a surprised breath in response to her ministrations. She bit his hip and he jerked, his breath ragged.

She wrapped her fingers around the hard, velvet-textured length of him and felt him pulse in her tight grip. A drop of fluid appeared, and she rubbed the silky moisture over the big, plum-shaped head of his cock.

She took him into her mouth, his skin hot and salty against the stroke of her tongue. He shuddered and wrapped her braid in his hand, and she sucked him, taking him as deep as she could, finally giving into that fantasy she had out in the jungle. She pleasured him with her mouth, teased him with her tongue, and aroused him to a fever pitch of need that made his entire body shake with the restraint of trying to hold back.

“Oh, damn,” he breathed and frantically tried to tug her back up, “if you don’t stop doing that, I’m going to come.”

Since she still had more interesting things she wanted to explore before he came, she complied. With one last irresistible lick along his shaft and a gentle, then harder suck to the tip that made him shift his hips and groan deep, she kissed her way back up his body until she was straddling him again, hard against his groin.

She guided his erection into her, so wet from kissing his hard, smooth skin, sucking and licking his shaft. Her sex stretched tight around his width as his nostrils flared, and stark male desire burned in his eyes. He clutched her waist and rocked her tighter against his straining body, setting a rhythm she knew would take him quickly to orgasm.

She rolled her hips and his head arched back, his face contorting with pleasure, his breathing fast. He groaned again, the lost and mindless look of him only fueled her movements until she was rocking hard and fast on him.

“Dana,” he whispered, jackknifing against her, hard and strong and his groan of surrender in her ear was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard.

For several heartbeats, he held her hard against him, his hand smoothing rhythmically up and down her back, both of them spent from running for four days. His body was hard beneath hers, so solid and warm.

When she lifted her head, she met his soft blue eyes, the desire banked. She pressed her mouth against his in a fierce, wild, hot kiss, then he shifted, and rolled to his side, cradling her in his arms.

She was still working on coming down from the storm of emotion, but she could at last collect her senses. She hugged him and stroked his hair, profoundly moved by the care he had taken with her, knowing the pleasure she had given him. Closing her eyes against the sting of tears and unbearable constriction in her throat, she continued to stroke his head, needing to give him comfort, so full of feeling for him that she could barely stand it. He had gone from this controlling jerk of a stranger to this guy who she knew better. But damned if she didn’t want to know what fueled that anger she’d glimpsed more than once.

She ached for him to confide in her, but she couldn’t expect him to go that far if he wasn’t feeling it. Bowie tightened his hold on her, his chest expanding as he took a deep, unsteady breath. Fingering the soft silk of his hair, she kissed his temple, a nearly unbearable tenderness filling her chest.

“Damn, woman, I think you unraveled me.”

“Then we’re even,” she whispered against his cheek.

Bracing his weight on one arm, he lifted his head, his touch leaving her breathless as he kissed her mouth, brushing his lips over and over hers, the caress gentle and searching. Inhaling unevenly, Bowie slid his arms around her in a warm, hard embrace, deepening the kiss as she smoothed her hand up the center of his back.

It was as though he couldn’t get enough of that soft, caressing intimacy, and it was a long time later when he reluctantly eased away. Brushing strands of hair back with his knuckles, he lifted her chin and gave her another light kiss, then released his breath. “Come to bed with me, beautiful,” he whispered gruffly.

She melted more than she had since she’d met this man. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him some more. She didn’t know why, but the huskiness in his request made her want to cry. Fighting against the surge of emotion, and praying she wasn’t making a mistake here, they crawled under the covers, both of them exhausted. She snuggled right up against all that muscle.

Sliding his hand up the back of her head, he deepened the kiss, molding her against him with the weight of his body. “I want to hold you, cupcake.”

Overwhelmed by emotion, Dana turned into his embrace, her naked breasts grazing his chest. He captured one and kneaded it. Then he slipped his hand to her hip and across her back, separating her legs and settling her between his thighs. Dana’s breath caught at the feel of his naked body molded fully against hers. Cupping her jaw, he kissed her, then nestled her head into the curve of his shoulder. “Go to sleep, babe,” he whispered gruffly.

The room was still dark, but early-morning sounds were filtering in when Dana awoke. Hovering between awake, but not awake, she heard the water running and her eyes popped open. The small room, the small town…Ruckus…Bowie. Making love with him had, of course, changed things from their confrontational relationship to this new one. She was sure nothing about him had changed except for the way he looked at her now. He’d still be a hard ass, pushy, it’s the mission, ma’am, SEAL. No doubts. Expecting or thinking about a future with him would be counterproductive. After this trip, she was off to South Africa for a story on child soldiers, then traveling to a small city in Russia that was rumored was a stop off point for white slavery.

Her happiness wasn’t important; there were so many people suffering in the world. If she could do one small thing to shine a light where there was darkness, she would.

With a hard shot to her gut, she remembered she did have to make a quick trip to San Diego and Jeff. There was no way she could continue a relationship with him now. She already knew it before she’d left for the Gap. She’d been a coward, trying to put off the inevitable because Jeff had been a port in the storm when her mom had died. He’d been so wonderful she felt terrible, but nothing could overcome how she felt right now about the man who was only now in the bathroom.

She rose, closing her eyes, drawing up her knees and pulling the sheet around her, memories swarming in and making her go weak inside. She locked her arms around her legs and rested her forehead on her upraised knees, the flurry in her chest leaving her light-headed. Damn, but it had been unbelievable. But what made her pulse labor was recalling how she had wakened in the middle of the night and found Bowie curled around her back, his arms securing her against him, holding her in the shelter of his body.

The door opened and Bowie materialized in the door frame. Damn, it was hard to take this man clothed, but naked—she felt as if the bed had just opened up beneath her and she was falling.

“Hey, cupcake. You look good enough to eat in the morning.” He was obviously as unselfconscious of his body as he was everything else. Truly a man who led a SEAL team, confident in his orders and the split-second decisions he made on a daily basis.

He said “cupcake” with an inflection of affection now instead of that annoyed, impatient way he’d said it when they first met. Gaining this man’s admiration was no small feat, and she felt totally jazzed that he had come to respect her.

“You’re not bad yourself. I’m not sure if you realize this, but you’re quite a hunk. Any woman would be happy to wake up to you.”

Something dark and dangerous flashed behind his eyes before it disappeared. “I’m not interested in making any other woman happy right now,” he said, walking to the bed. “You are it.”

“Think you can expand on what went on here last night?”

“Ah, babe, I got that covered, tied down, locked up, tagged and bagged.”

He tumbled her onto her back, and before her peal of laughter could subside, he had the sheet off her. He pushed her legs apart, moved in between them, slowly stroked his warm, callused palms up her thighs, until his thumbs caressed her intimately.

“You are amazing.”

He grinned and she was trembling in anticipation, and the rogue knew it, too. “I’m always about lifting the bar, sweetheart,” he quipped huskily, and she caught the hot blue of his eyes as he settled his provocative hips more comfortably between her legs. He nuzzled her thigh and applied a wet suction to a patch of flesh that made her gasp and would no doubt leave a mark.

The only problem: she already felt thoroughly branded by this man’s heat, his touch, everything about him.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to lose my focus,” he murmured.

“Too bad. I’ll look at you any way I please.”

He chuckled, his tongue swirling a path to where she ached for his attention the most and lost herself in him.

* * *

By mid-morning the next day, she was feeling rested after two good nights of sleep in Bowie’s arms. She had dumped out all the contents of both of their packs, assessed what they had—geez, the navy made sure their SEALs were well stocked in the field—and knew what they needed. Food was an issue, but if they got the boat Bowie was currently negotiating, it would be a quick ten-mile trip to Yaviza.

His throat mic was on the side table, and she was fascinated with it. She put in the earpiece and set the transponders against her own throat. It was more comfortable than she thought it would be.

“LT, airport is clear as a bell. Operation Cupcake is a go. We’re ready to rendezvous with you at your orders.”

Experiencing a sharp, hard twist to her heart, she quickly removed the apparatus without a response. She closed her eyes trying to absorb the information that he had lied to her. He’d promised he’d take her with him, but it was clear he sent his men to the airport to make sure they could get her out without incident.

He’d “handled” her so that he could complete the mission. Dana closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, a chill of comprehension making her insides shrink. She felt like a bomb ready to explode. Every sound sent her heart into overdrive. She finished packing the stuff back in the packs, then picked up the clothes she’d borrowed from Sienna.

Making her way to the cantina, she saw that Sienna wasn’t there. She knocked at the doorway in the back, but there was no answer. Deciding to leave the clothes she set them on a small table and turned away. Before she took the steps out of their apartment, a weakened muffled voice called out, urgency in her tone.

She turned to the closed bedroom door and looked toward the door leading out of the bar. The woman’s frantic pleading got worse. Making a snap decision, she opened the door to find a lean, frail woman with iron gray hair lying loose on her pillow. Her moist eyes turned toward Dana and she said plaintively, “So thirsty.”

Dana hurried to the side table and poured water from a pitcher there, then sat down on the edge of the bed and supported the older woman so she could take a sip, then more. Her grateful, warm eyes thanked Dana as she drank her fill.

“That better?” Dana asked, the memory of her mom lying in her hospital bed, looking just as fragile, but the power of her gaze still as strong as ever. Pain and a deep sense of loss threatened to engulf her, that hollowness had been with her since the moment her father had called and delivered the devastating news. Her mom had died, alone and unexpectedly from a heart attack, the chemo, cancer and stress to her body had been just too much.

There was no way Dana could have known, no way she could have gotten there in time. But other than the Darién Gap story, her mom had asked Dana to come home and spend the last moments with her.

“Thank you, poppet,” the woman said. “Bless you.” Then she drifted back to sleep. It was hard to take the woman’s gratitude, the guilt at failing her mom pressing hard against her heart.

A noise broke her concentration, and she looked up to see Bowie in the doorway. His face showed his compassion, aware of what she was struggling with. But her anger at his betrayal made her push everything away. She rose abruptly and brushed past him. Out in the cantina, she spied Sienna.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude, but I was replacing your clothes and your mother called out. I gave her some water. How ill is she?”

“Terribly. She was a missionary who came here to help, then she got cancer and refused to go back home. I came out here and opened this place and have been nursing her, but with each day she fails. It won’t be long until her suffering is over.” Sienna’s breath caught, and she covered her mouth. “It’s been very hard.”

Dana reached out and hugged her in a tight embrace, her eyes closing. “I know. My mom died from cancer. I wasn’t there when it happened. I’m glad you’re able to be here for your mom.”

Her stricken eyes captured Dana’s, the sympathy clutching at Dana’s heart.

“I’m so sorry about your mom.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. She let go of Sienna and gave her one final bolstering look, then headed for her room. Bowie who had been a large presence came in a few moments later. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“So that’s a no.”

She whirled on him. “You never had any intention of honoring my wishes, so you don’t get to have a say in how I’m feeling now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’re not taking me to Salazar.”

He glanced at the bedside table and the throat mic. His features went taut. “Son of a bitch, Dana. It’s too goddamned dangerous. You don’t belong in a special op.”

“Maybe not, but it’s my choice to do this and you’re not taking that away from me. I’m an American citizen and you can’t force me to do anything.”

He ran his hand through his hair. She dug in her pack, adamant about what she had to do. She grabbed five hundred dollars and headed for the door.

He snagged her arm as she passed. “I have my orders. You’re getting on that plane.”

“I’m sure you do, but I have my own orders. You can go to hell.”

She jerked her arm out of his grasp and slammed the door on her way out. Back in the bar, she approached Sienna and slipped the money into her hands. “Here, take this. Maybe it can help to get you something to ease your mom’s pain.”

Sienna looked down at the money and then up at her. “I couldn’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Dana said. “For her.” Her eyes stung, her voice uneven. Tears filled Sienna’s eyes and Dana’s spilled over. She hugged Dana this time.

“God bless you.” She tightened her hold. “God bless you.”

She was hoping that was true, because the moment she could, she was giving Ruckus the slip and going after Salazar herself. She would get those memory cards back. She had to now more than ever.