Page 4 of Hot Soldier's Rescue

Her companion huffed. “What do you want with the Army?”

Sensing no immediate threat from him, her pulse began to slow. She answered honestly, “I want to find them.”

“Why?”

She frowned. “Gustavo no doubt told you it’s church business, so why are you pressing me?”

“Because it’s not safe for a woman—a person—like you to have any dealings with them.”

Amusement quirked her mouth. Apparently, she didn’t qualify as an actual woman anymore. “How do you know it’s not safe?” she challenged.

“Are you really here alone?”

All questions and no answers, this guy was. “Why do you sound so surprised? It’s not like I have anything to fear. I’m a woman of the cloth.”

He snorted. “Cloth doesn’t provide a hell of a lot of protection from certain threats in this neck of the woods.”

No kidding. “Are you trying to warn me of something specific?”

“I’m telling you to go back where you came from and leave the Army of Freedom alone.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that. I have business with them.”

He scowled but eventually shrugged. “It’s your neck.” And with that pronouncement, he stood up. As he strode away from her, she took a moment to enjoy his long legs, tight buns, and mile-wide shoulders. A fine specimen of a man, indeed.

Belatedly, it hit her. He had some connection to the Army of Freedom. Why else would he have gone out of his way to ask her what she wanted with that bunch? She waited until he was a block or so away and rose to follow him. He was a full foot taller than her and she had to hurry not to lose him as he strode with those long legs toward the edge of town. Dismayed, she watched him climb into a Jeep and start the engine. She mustn’t lose him. As sure as she was standing here, he was heading out into the jungle to warn the local Army of Freedom guys that some crazy nun was poking around asking questions about them. The last thing she needed was to spook the contact among that bunch whose family was currently hiding Garza’s children.

The Jeep pulled out of its parking spot. She was losing him! Looking around quickly, she spied a moped parked on the sidewalk. She shouldn’t. But her lead to the Army of Freedom was leaving. She would go to hell for sure if she stole something while wearing a nun’s habit. But the alternative was to fail two small children and a priest. It would be acceptable if she just borrowed it, right?

She raced over to the scooter, checking frantically for a key. Nada. She popped open the under-seat storage area and spied a flash of metal. Snatching the spare key, she jammed it in the ignition. It wasn’t theft if God’s work was being done, was it? And besides, theft wasn’t one of the seven deadly sins. She would return the moped as soon as she found out where Mr. Tall, Dark and Hunky was going.

The Jeep took a dirt road, which cut into the heavy jungle crowding the margins of the village. The ruts were incredible, some deep enough to nearly swallow her and the moped whole. But the horrible road slowed the vehicle ahead enough that she was able to keep the sound of the engine in range. It took concentration to guide her scooter around the worst of the craters.

The road, such as it was, deteriorated into little more than twin dirt paths. She had to duck hanging vines and was soaking wet from midthigh down with muddy water by the time the Jeep’s engine suddenly cut off. Alarmed, she cut her moped’s motor and listened hard. Nothing but the screeches and clicks of the jungle echoed around her.

She leaned the motor bike against a tree and proceeded forward cautiously on foot. Those shoes were becoming more sensible by the second as they held up to the rough hike. Her sexy little Louboutins would have been destroyed in a dozen steps.

She spied a lightening in the gloom ahead and slowed down. Were those voices she heard? And what was that growling noise? A portable power generator, maybe? Her heart leaped into her throat. Every cell in her body shouted at her to turn and flee. If she had half a brain, she’d listen to those urges. But no. She’d made a promise. She was going to kill Father Ambrose when she got home. If she got home.

Something cold and hard touched the back of her neck, and an audible click made her freeze. She knew that sound. It was a pistol hammer cocking. Oh, God. Her panic turned into head-to-foot trembling.

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you, Sister?” A familiar, deep voice rumbled in her ear. Hunky Guy from the park.

“I’m not known for giving up, no,” she managed to answer without squeaking too badly.

“Next time you follow someone, steal a moped with a muffler,” he muttered. The gun nudged her neck. “Move.”

When did his voice start sounding so threatening, anyway? Gulping, she walked forward. Here went nothing.

Chapter Two

Ted swore under his breath. How on God’s green earth had this tiny little nun found her way out here into the middle of nowhere? Obviously, she’d followed him. But why? Didn’t she have any sense of self-preservation whatsoever? He was a hard man, used to seeing and doing hard things, but killing a nun was not on his top ten list of favorite recreational activities.

“Were you planning to just stroll into camp and say hello?” he demanded incredulously.

Her slender shoulders shrugged under a nasty, gray-green sweater. “Something like that.”

At least with his gun at her back she would make it into the camp alive. Had she just shown up, he had no doubt his comrades would’ve gunned her down long before they registered the wimple on her head. Unless someone got a good look at her exotic eyes and creamy latte skin and decided to have a little fun first. A wisp of silky mocha hair peeked out by her right ear and he tore his gaze away from the delicate flesh below her earlobe.

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