No Regrets

Owen smiled as he slid his fingers over a pair of panties left to dry on the laundry fine strung up in the cabin.



If Noelle was a good girl, he might even keep her alive long enough to play with her for a while. Just like he'd played with David's wife, Mary.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN



A couple of hours later, Noelle had finally reached a stopping point. She wasn't done yet, but she could see the solution glowing on the horizon, no longer completely out of reach. A few more hours of computations and she'd be able to start writing the program to execute code-breaking algorithms she'd created. Once the program was written and debugged, she would be able to put the ciphertext in and see what happened.



That was the true test of her new thought process.



She stretched, arching her back to relieve the tension in her muscles. She'd spent so many hours sitting on this hard, wooden stool, that she thought she might have a permanent round indentation in her backside. Her shoulders ached, and her fingers were nearly numb with cold, but she felt better than she had in days.



She knew she could do this, and the relief that she would succeed was like a drug racing through her system, making her feel alive.



And hungry.



Something savory was cooking on the potbellied stove, and the aroma of onions and spices filled the tiny cabin, making her mouth water. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so ravenous.



A quick survey of the cabin showed no sign of David. She thought she'd heard the door latch shut as he left, but that could have been a distant memory of two or three hours ago. Time didn't really flow normally when she was working, so she couldn't be sure.



Noelle washed her hands in a trickle of frigid water and splashed a bit on her face to clear away the grit from her tired eyes. She was weary but also elated by her success, giving her an edgy sort of energy that didn't quite translate smoothly into the motion of her limbs. Her head was completely awake, but her body was about to fall over. She'd really been abusing it over the past few days. It was time to make up for bad behavior.



Noelle peered longingly into the pot simmering on the stove. Bits of carrots and celery and what she hoped was chicken and not Thumper, floated lazily through steaming broth.



She had no idea where David was, but with food on the stove, she doubted he'd be far. The idea of sharing a meal with him was appealing enough that she was willing to brave the cold outside and see if she could find him.



Noelle slipped on the Kevlar vest and pulled her coat over it to keep out the cold. She'd learned her lesson about calling his name, so instead, she scanned the trees, looking for signs of which way he'd gone. There was no snow on the ground today, but she could still see the shallow impressions of his tracks in the dirt and places where what remained of the plant life had been crushed. She had no clue how to tell which tracks were fresh, so she headed off in the direction she'd found him last time.



The forest was lovely, if no longer green. Dry leaves crunched under her feet and twigs snapped. She'd heard stories about people who could move silently in the woods, but being here, she was beginning to doubt there was much truth in them. It would take a ghost to movel quietly through all this dry, crunchy debris.



Owen made no sound as he moved toward Noelle. He was beginning to see why David was drawn to her. There was something alluring and fresh about her—a basic honesty in her appearance unmasked by the deceit of cosmetics. An honest woman was such a rare find that Owen had to fight the urge to take her now.



It wasn't time yet. Her work had to be finished before he could play with her.



Unless she got too close. Then he'd have no choice but to take her now.



Owen stilled, deciding to let fate choose. If she came to him, then he'd know she was meant to be his now.



The game of chance thrilled him and his body trembled in anticipation. She was so close—only a few yards away.



His camouflage and the vast number of trees and brush concealed him from her sight, but he could see her clearly.



Each fiery curl, a spattering of freckles. She'd lost weight since she'd been here, and the dark circles under her eyes were new, too.



David wasn't taking very good care of his new woman. Clearly the man didn't deserve her.



Noelle came closer, a pensive frown flattening her pink mourn. She stopped and looked around, then studied the ground. A couple of steps closer and she'd be within reach. Just two steps. Silently, Owen urged her closer, his mouth moving in the shape of her name.



The color drained from her face and her eyes widened with fear. He had no idea what had scared her, and he knew she hadn't seen him, but his wonder over what had frightened her fled in the face of her beauty. She was perfect—



terrified and quivering with the force of it. There was nothing more beautiful to Owen than a terrified woman.



She made a little whimpering sound that made Owen's dick harden in answer. It was all he could do to keep himself from reaching out to her and curling his fingers through her hair until she screamed. He was sure she'd have a lovely screaming voice.



He felt his fists clench and closed his eyes to regain control over himself. He had to think of the job first. If he failed Mr, Lark, he would be executed as an example to the others. Owen understood that was how it had to be, but that understanding didn't comfort him. He had to quit drooling over the woman, put his need for revenge against David on hold, and do his damn job.



Owen's body cooperated, relaxing once again. When he opened his eyes, he saw Noelle stumbling off back toward the cabin. Fate had betrayed him. Noelle had betrayed him, and she'd have to be punished for it. Owen could hardly wait.



He stayed in place until it was safe to move from the cover of brush and half-fallen limbs. He went to the spot where Noelle had been and tried to figure out what had scared her. He studied the ground where she'd been looking.



No wonder the poor thing had been afraid. Pressed into the dirt were several footprints. Two from David's heavy tread, one of Noelle's dainty prints and a third set. Not Owen's. He was far too careful to leave behind such obvious proof of his presence here.



Which meant they had a visitor.



Owen smiled. Maybe fate hadn't betrayed him after all.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN



Are you sure it was here?" asked David, crouching to look at the ground where Noelle said she'd seen the footprints.



He saw his own boot prints and several of Noelle's, but that was all.



"I'm sure," said Noelle, though her voice wavered with uncertainty.



Ever since she'd run back into the clearing with that panic-stricken look on her face, David's blood had been running hot. He didn't dare leave her alone in the cabin while he checked out her claims of new footprints. He was keeping her right by his side until he knew it was safe.



"I don't see anything," he told her.



Noelle bent down and pointed. "Right here," she said, pointing to a section of ground covered with dry leaves.



David carefully swept the leaves away—leaves that had been on this patch of ground a long time, protected from the wind by the thick roots of a tree—but there was nothing underneath, just unmarred ground. He studied the area, looking for any other signs of intruders, but found nothing. If someone had erased the footprints she thought she'd seen, they'd done a damn good job and hadn't left a single trace. David had worked with some of the best Spec Ops forces out there and he'd never known anyone who was that good. Not even Grant.



Maybe she'd just seen the way his footprints stacked on top of one another, which formed a new pattern. A lot of people made that same mistake when they first started learning about tracking.



Noelle's voice was faint, hard to hear over the sound of the wind in the trees. "I'm not lying to you."



"I know you're not. I also know that you've been working hke crazy, not sleeping enough or eating enough and stress can do odd things to people. It can make them see things that aren't there or misinterpret things that are."



She wrapped her arms around herself, looking vulnerable and afraid. "You think those footprints were some sort of hallucination?"



David saw nothing out of place, felt no sign of anything wrong other than his nagging worry for Noelle. He'd been meticulous in his patrol of the area and none of his security measures had been triggered. He knew she wouldn't lie to him, but no one could stand the kind of pressure she was under and not crack just a little.



David pulled her into his arms, needing to soothe her, needing to take away her fear. "I think that you saw something, but I don't think it was anything to worry about."



"I can't stand the thought that I might not be able to trust my own mind. My brain is all I have."



It was such a ludicrous statement that David had to fight the urge to spend the next hour listing all her attributes.



She was courageous, honest, caring, so beautiful it made his chest ache. He wished he knew how to show her just how much she had to offer, but all he knew to do was ease her fear. "Your brain is fine. Just overworked."



"If I can't trust my own mind ..." She clung to him with an almost palpable sense of desperation.



"You can trust me. I'll keep you safe." He had to. He couldn't even consider any other possibility. He had to do whatever it took to protect her, even if that meant admitting he couldn't do it alone.



David needed help. There was too much ground here to cover alone, and he knew of no better place to take her now that all of the safe houses were potentially compromised. And if she was right about those footprints, and there was someone out in the woods with enough skill to evade his detection, then they were in more trouble than he thought.



There were only two men on the face of the planet he trusted enough to help him protect Noelle. Caleb and Grant.



He hated calling them in away from their duties, but he hated the thought of letting Noelle come to harm more. When David had left Delta, Caleb had made him memorize a phone number that he could call anytime, day or night. Though they never said it, David knew Caleb and Grant were both worried he would kill himself after what happened with Mary. They promised that if he called, they would come. No questions asked.



He wasn't sure if the number was still good after two years, but it was his best shot at keeping Noelle safe.



By the time they'd gotten back to the cabin, Noelle was pretty sure she was losing her mind. She'd seen those footprints. Or thought she had, but there was no disputing that they weren't there now.



David was right. She was under too much stress. Too bad there was nothing that could change that anytime soon to relieve it.



"Food will help," he told her, offering her a steaming bowl of the soup he'd made.



"At this point, I'll try anything." She cleared her work off the little table so they could sit and eat.



"Sleeping would be a good idea, too." His voice was low and gentle. Just like doctors talked to crazy people.



"Yeah. I'll try." But she didn't make any promises.



She finished off most of her meal under David's watchful gaze. She wasn't sure what he was looking for, but his constant attention was making her body heat and her mind wander off into the forbidden realm of what his mouth felt like against hers. Dusty sunlight from the single window glinted off silver splinters of hair at his temples, and the deep shadows made his face seem more angular, his jaw wider.



His expression was so solemn and she wished she knew how to make him smile—how to make him laugh.