Chapter Twenty-Nine

“When a man loves a woman…” With every touch and every sigh, the lyrics sung by Percy Sledge spun round and round in Chance’s head, taunting him to tell her. To say the word that mattered. It was past time.

He’d caught the hint of a shadow flicker through her pretty blues when he hadn’t returned her sentiments. It wasn’t that he didn’t care deeply about her, because he did, but what would a woman like Suede want with a banged up guy like him? What would she get out of the deal? Lonely nights while he was off in some dark corner of the world fighting more bad guys? Never ending worry that he wouldn’t come home again? Heartache? A flag-draped coffin and a white marble headstone in Arlington? It didn’t seem fair and he wasn’t that selfish.

Suede deserved more. Man, she was adorable. She made it hard to stay focused on the dangerous job at hand, and damn it. He had to get his mind back to zero or this op would fail before it got off the ground.

He’d purposely set the beacons to safeguard the cabin while he was away, and to reinforce, at least to himself, how risky this trip topside would be. Suede was no trained operator. She’d never climbed before, and he was pretty certain that if all went as planned, rappelling down the south face of Old Man Mountain would be extremely difficult for the woman who’d been shoved off of it just days earlier.

Yet one look at her, one frosty hint of her minty breath, and he was lost in space. Hitching her into her climbing gear hadn’t helped. A certain protectiveness had filled him with every tug at her harness, especially the strap between her legs. It had to be the caveman in him, but there was something about tying a woman up that teased the erotic beast within. Not that he’d ever been into all that BDSM crap, but the instinct to dominate her was there, nonetheless. So was an intense need to control everything around her, so she didn’t get hurt today or ever again. Yeah. Had to be the caveman in him.

Chance bumped her chin with his thumb to make her look up at him. Wearing the same style of tinted goggles he wore, he couldn’t see her tropical blues, but her brows were arched, and he knew she was worried. This would be a difficult mission for a novice, but there weren’t a lot of choices. It was York or Suede, and Chance chose Suede every time.

“It’s not a tough climb,” he told her. “Keep your head up and your eyes on the ropes in front of you. I’ve set enough anchors along the way, and there are plenty of footholds, you’ll be okay. It’s south facing granite, so the sun’s melted what snow the wind didn’t blow away. If you get in trouble, stop and breathe, but do not look down.”

Suede had a habit of jerking her head to the left when she was stressed, like a nervous tick. She was plenty nervous now. She nodded, jerked her head, but pressed her lips into a tight line.

Chance intended to help her relax in his extra-large bathtub once they got home. A good deep massage ought to loosen her up. A little bubble bath filled with the fragrant delights that Sullivan had included in the drone delivery wouldn’t hurt, either. That man certainly knew a lot about women.

See what I mean? Lost. In. Space!

Averting his gaze before he succumbed to the urge to kiss her into submission, Chance cocked his head to squeeze the tension out of his neck, and they were off. She’d already swapped her mittens for the rugged, leather climbing gloves. When Suede took the first step up Old Man Mountain, he followed a bit to her right, coaching and encouraging. “Good girl. That’s right. You’re doing fine.”

With every step up, her timidity changed into confidence. The rappelling gear would be heavier coming down, mainly because he toted most of it in his backpack going up, but a person could fall on the way up just as easily as on the way down. Like firearms training, Suede was a quick study. Not once did she slip, always a plus when you’re teaching a greenhorn. Better yet, she wasn’t afraid to try, and that was most of the battle right there. Attitude.

He smiled as his first impression of her came to fruition. Her right foot slipped and for a split second, she dangled over thin air, her only hold on the rock ledge overhead. The crazy woman turned to him and grinned. “Look at me! This is fun. I’m doing it, huh?”

His face cracked with joy. Suede was no victim. She’d meant what she’d said about turning over a new leaf, and she was doing it. Look at her go. His heart swelled with pride and a little lust, too.

“Don’t be a smart ass,” he told her as he stifled the urge to reach out and pat said ass. Still grinning, she secured her footing, stuck that cute backside out, and up she went. Right behind her, Chance smiled. Near the top lip of the cliff, right where it hung over the edge offering nothing but airspace and a long drop down, he shifted to her side and put a hand on her wrist to slow her.

Suede turned to face him. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“No, babe, you’re fantastic at this, but we need to traverse to your left about twenty feet. See those anchors over there? I studded this entire face with plenty for just this purpose. Take it slow and easy, one step at a time. Make sure your footing’s solid before you lift your other boot. Hold onto the grips. They’re just above eye level. They’ll keep you on track.”

She maneuvered to her left like a pro, kicking the snow that had packed into her cleats when she couldn’t get a solid grip on the anchor still buried in ice. Mountain climbing in winter was tough, but this granite face absorbed heat like a mother. It’d be the first bare face come spring and all that solar energy proved beneficial now. Chance followed her lead until she stopped where he’d told her to stop.

She turned expectantly to him, and he wanted to kiss that cocky pout off her face. She knew she’d done good, the brat.

“If York survived this last week, he could be waiting for us,” he warned.

Her head ducked into her shoulders as she looked up. “Right here? Now?”

Chance nodded. “It’s truth or dare time. One of us has to look over the edge to get a bead on him. Are you game?”

Suede angled her shoulders to the side, giving Chance the go-ahead, as if he’d let her take the risk? Silly girl.

He nodded in agreement, then gripped the handhold directly over his head. This edge of the cliff put him closer to the empty cabin than to York’s rig, but the biggest vulnerability to this plan was the sun shining behind him. It was broad daylight and Chance hadn’t worn snow camouflage. He and Suede were dressed in identical light gray snowsuits, right down to their matching beanies. When in doubt, always go Navy gray.

Taking a deep breath, he paused, then bobbed up for a quick look-see. A look that fast wouldn’t give York, if he happened to be facing the exact direction, enough time to focus on what he thought he’d seen. He’d most likely dismiss it as a shadow from some bird overhead. Maybe a rabbit. And in this sun, even as weak as it was, he’d still be snow blind—if he were even outside.

Chance took a second look with more deliberation until he was a full head above the edge. “Looks quiet. I’ll go first, then I’ll give you a hand up.”

She nodded like a good troop should. “Be careful,” she murmured, and didn’t that warm him up on the inside like someone had just lit a fire inside his rib cage.

Focus!

Chance palmed the icy ledge and rolled topside. He kept his head on a swivel and both eyes on high alert, scanning for any sign of York and quartering the snowy landscape for animals or other trouble. Those two dead bodies outside York’s front door had to have attracted some wildlife, but Chance detected nothing from his prone position. Drifts now blocked the cabin on all four sides. The fancy rig that York had airlifted for his convenience was in the same shape. Snowed in.

Without shifting his focus from the rig, Chance swung his right hand over the edge for Suede to grab onto. She engaged, and he hung on tight. If anything went wrong now, he could easily swing her topside with him.

She came up breathless, hunkering low on her belly into the snow beside him. “Is he here? Did you see him yet?”

The tremble in her voice about did Chance in. He smoothed a hand over her back and left it between her shoulder blades to settle her nerves. “Not yet, but I’m not seeing any tracks either. He’s got to still be inside that rig, but look. The door’s snowed shut.”

Her head bobbed. “I see it and you’re right. He hates the cold. I doubt he’d be outside, but it’d be nice if he was. Frozen. Like a Popsicle.”

Chance smiled at her choice of deaths for the man who’d viciously tried to kill her. But a Popsicle fate was too good for a bastard like York. If Chance had his way, he’d strip York’s hairy ass and dangle him over the edge of this mountain to bait the bald eagles that lived in these parts. What better end to an ignoble man’s life than to be gutted and have his eyeballs ripped out of their sockets by the noblest of birds in the sky?

Chance tugged his sat phone up from his jacket pocket, tense as hell. He’d expected a confrontation from the dangerous man who planned to take down a city as large as Portland, not some simpering coward in a can.

“What now?” Sullivan bit out.

Chance grinned. You’ve got to love working with a guy who has zero tolerance for small talk. “I’m topside with Suede. Looks like York never left Montana. I’m going in unless you want to send a chopper, take control of his rig, and have him your way.”

Sullivan grunted. “End him, Chance. Then tell Pagan and Kruze to end the Rio boys. They’ve got no business stepping foot in my country. I want them gone, and yes, I’ve got everyone else’s concurrence, damn it.”

Chance ended the call with a clipped “Copy that.” He stashed his phone and flexed his fingers on Suede’s back. “Don’t engage York and don’t say a word to him, understood?”

She turned her goggle-covered eyes on him. “No, I don’t understand. He hurt me, Chance. I want him to know I’m still alive. I want him to know he’s the biggest asshole in the world, and that I’m fighting mad.”

“Not going to happen, Suede. Assholes hurt good people like you, and this one’s already tried to kill you once. Stay behind me.”

She bit her lip. “And let him hurt you? Why should I?”

Chance dropped his forehead to his wrist in the snow. He should’ve known this part wouldn’t be easy for Suede. Telling her to stay put was an option Chance had already rejected. Suede needed closure and she was about to get it. The hard way.

Canting his head, he stared her down. “Trust me. York’s not man enough to hurt me. I’m the black ops guy here, remember? He’s the prick. Now keep behind me, and let’s get this done, so we can go home where I can lick every inch of your naked body, okay?”

That did the trick. At least, she bobbed her head and said, “Copy that. I won’t get in your way, but I’m going with you.”

“Good girl,” Chance told her honestly.

“Just don’t get shot,” she bit out just as he pushed forward to finish the job.

Damned if that didn’t make him smile.