Page 41 of Hot Soldier's Rescue

He blinked innocently at her. “Why, whatever do you mean?”

She didn’t know whether to scowl or laugh at him. She settled for huffing in exasperation. “You’re such a…”

“Man?” he offered.

“Exactly.”

He chuckled. “Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” she snapped.

“Yeah, I got that memo. But thanks, anyway.”

“Ooh!”

“You’re so cute when you’re mad. You look like a kitten who’s being tewwibwy fewocious and is about to attack a ball of yarn.”

“Yeah, well, kittens can tear up a ball of yarn with the best of them. Don’t underestimate my claws, mister.”

He smiled indulgently. “It’s not your claws that are the problem. It’s that stubborn determination of yours that’ll get you in trouble.”

Actually, he was right. But there was no way on God’s green earth she would admit that to him.

The road quality improved dramatically through the Llanos—the tropical grasslands bordering the majestic Orinoco River. They drove at near highway speed until the foothills of the Andes Mountains began to rise around them. By her calculation, the road trip had taken them nearly halfway across the country. Now all she had to do was make her way to the coast and a major airport. There had to be a way for her to return to the States without her passport, and in the meantime, Mia and Emanuel would be safe once she got them on a plane.

They stopped and made a picnic supper of the food Drago’d had the foresight to purchase. After the meal, from somewhere in the back of the vehicle, a soccer ball mysteriously emerged. Emanuel shouted with delight, and she smiled gratefully at Drago. You had to love a man who went out of his way like that to make a little kid happy.

Whoa. Love? Huh. Maybe she did love him just a little.

He looked away guiltily. What? The big bad arms dealer didn’t want her to know he had a soft spot for kids? If only he knew how much sexier it made him—she broke off the thought in sharp frustration. If nothing else, this disastrous nun disguise had taught her once and for all that a celibate lifestyle was not for her.

Elise and Grandma watched the boys pass the ball back and forth. But then Drago did something surprising. He kicked the ball to Mia where she slouched beside the Jeep. The little girl reluctantly kicked the ball back. How he pulled it off, Elise wasn’t quite sure, but within a few minutes, he’d coaxed Mia into the action. The two children squealed with laughter at Drago’s ridiculous antics as they played keep-away from him. Her heart melted a little bit more.

Grandma murmured, “He will make a good father. And so handsome, he is. A girl would be crazy to let him go.”

Elise glanced over at the elderly woman in surprise. Surely Grandma wasn’t advocating that a nun cast off the cloth and her vows for the hunky arms dealer! Unless…crud…Grandma’d figured out she wasn’t really a nun. But how? Elise thought back frantically over the past day. How had she given herself away?

Drago interrupted her silent panic by flopping down on the grass beside her.

“They wear you out?” Elise asked him.

He snorted. “It takes more than jumping around like a monkey for a few minutes to tire me out.”

“Where did you learn to handle children so well?”

“Me?” He looked startled. “I don’t know the first thing about kids.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You don’t have any of your own?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he answered sharply.

“No nieces and nephews you spoil rotten when you go home?”

“No.”

“Where is home, anyway?”

“I told you. France.”

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