Page 7 of ELITE Protection
“It’s a possibility.” Isaac had planned for several scenarios. One of his backup plans was to take Hannah to his Uncle Samuel’s remote cabin. Plan A, though, was to hang out in this house and test her skiing skills in case they had to move to Plan B, while they waited for Homeland Security to do their job. The house was as secure as any Atlanta antebellum mansion. Guardian Security had eyes and ears inside and out, constantly monitored by men he knew well.
“Can we go tomorrow morning?” Excitement exuded from her. “I love skiing on virgin snow. The resort has a helicopter that can drop us off on top of the mountain and they have a car service to pick us up when we’re finished.”
Isaac’s experience with helicopter drops onto snow was quite different. His SEAL team had trained in Alaska for nearly six weeks. They had fast-roped out of choppers and were forced to make their way back to base camp carrying nearly one hundred pounds of gear on their backs. Several times the trip took days, always in below-freezing weather. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, even for a man raised in the Montana mountains.
“They also have a guide service.” Hannah smiled broadly. “We should ask for Samuel. He’s this big ole bear of a man—salt and pepper beard halfway down his chest, his face looks like tanned leather, and he has the best stories about the Indians that once roamed this area. Screw up, and he won’t hesitate to yell at you, but underneath he’s a teddy bear.”
So that’s how his uncle had afforded the high-end amenities he’d put in the cabin. Sly old goat. Uncle Samuel had been a hunting guide for years, but that gig only lasted a few months. He’d often complained about clueless city fishermen who flew in for one week to wade in the area’s Blue Ribbon Rivers or pristine lakes, fully expecting to leave with a trophy trout, salmon, or bass so they could brag to their friends back home. Isaac would bet good money the old fart was raking in thousands showing tourists a good time tromping around the backcountry, too.
“We won’t be needing a guide, but I’ll keep that in mind,” Isaac reassured Hannah. “So, do you have your own backcountry gear?”
She bounced to her feet. “We store it down in the basement. Follow me.”
Oh, yes. He’d follow that pretty little ass almost anywhere.
He gave himself a mental slap. He was there to protect that pretty little ass, not tap it.
While securing the house, he had seen a room filled with everything from downhill skis to four-season sleeping bags. She led him past the small downstairs kitchen, the pool table, and two more bedrooms before reaching the storage area at the far end.
“You might want to reconsider hiring Samuel.” Hannah pulled a large plastic bin with her name on it from the shelf. “He took my brother and me on a three-day, two-night backcountry excursion. It was outstanding. We saw elk and sheep, and I caught my first fish in a pool at the bottom of a waterfall. Best trout I’ve ever eaten.”
Fresh trout was one of Isaac’s absolute favorite meals. He wondered if Hannah would be interested in going out for a bite to eat. He hadn’t seen his kind of food in her refrigerator. He had to be careful, but he seriously doubted anyone from ISIS knew her location. She’d already be kidnapped or dead if they did.
Hannah popped the top off the bin. She withdrew a pair of ski skins and pointed toward the wall. “These fit my telemark skis and you can see my bindings were built for backcountry touring.”
Isaac was impressed. Her equipment wasn’t just high-end, it was high-tech, even though it was a few years old. The skis and poles also looked as though they had been used, but not abused. He hated when people spent good money on great equipment and then didn’t take care of it.
She lifted out a red, waterproof bag labeledAvalancheand opened it. “Transceiver, reflector, probe, extra insulation layer.” She named each object as she pulled it out.
“Have you had avalanche training?” Isaac asked.
With a knowing grin, she lifted that pointy chin of hers. “I’ve been through Level III Certification courses at the American Avalanche Institute.” She leaned her forearms on the box. “I love this shit. I’d rather be all alone, trudging up a hill, my thighs and calves burning, than dodging novice skiers on packed snow. Don’t get me wrong, I love the speed and adrenaline rush of downhill skiing, but walking through fresh powder, listening to nature all around me…it’s like a religious experience.”
Isaac completely understood. When things had gotten rough at home, he’d taken off for a walk in the woods, no matter what time of year. Sometimes that meant cross-country skis, other times snowshoes, and summertime meant boots. Nature had a distinct calming effect on him. As a teenager, he and Uncle Samuel would walk for miles in silence, simply absorbing the very essence of nature.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he admitted. Changing the subject, which he seemed to have to do a lot with Hannah, he looked into the bin and asked, “Do you have a backpack?”
She stood. When she stretched to reach the top shelf, her forearm was exposed. Was that a tattoo of a feather? He wondered what other tattoos she had…and where. His gaze passed over her body. So many interesting places she could have ink. He could picture himself sliding off that loose-fitting shirt and peeling down the yoga pants that fit her like a second skin, checking every inch of her body for tattoos.
His cock became very interested in the idea of a naked Hannah.
Don’t go there, sailor. She’s a client.He stood and reached over her head grabbing the dark blue backpack. The coconut scent of her shampoo hit him just before the heat of her body radiated into his chest.
“This one?” His voice sounded gruff in the small room. He stepped back and the entire front of his body cooled, missing her next to him. Ignoring his erection, he suggested, “Let’s get this packed so it’s ready when we decide to go backcountry.”
“Is that what we’re going to do tomorrow?” Hannah put the subzero sleeping bag in the very bottom, just as he would’ve done.
“No, I think we’ll warm up our legs with some downhill first.” Isaac really needed to determine her skill level. He knew far too many men and women who could talk a good game but when faced with the challenges of the mountain, they just couldn’t handle it.
Hannah started to secure the top of the backpack when Isaac noticed the avalanche sack. “You forgot this.”
“No, I put it in this outside pocket.” She took it from him and started to place it in the zippered area behind her right hip.
“You should put it up here.” Isaac grabbed for the bag, but she clutched it to her chest.
“This is where I learned to carry it and it’s where I’m going to put it.” Hannah glared at him. “It’s my damn pack, and I’ll put everything where I know exactly where it is, and I can reach it.”
He relented.Choose your battles, Uncle Samuel used to always say.
