Page 35 of Freedom Fighters
Now she obsessed over a man who would laugh if he knew.
Sleep had been fractured last night. Garrett’s eyes followed her into her dreams. The dreams were shot with images she barely remembered when she woke, finally, to daylight, yet they left her pulse uneven and her body throbbing.
Carmen hoped that tonight she would sleep through. Sleep deprivation was a bad conditionto have when moving through Insurrecto territory. It impaired judgment.
Yet here it was, two in the morning and she was wide awake and thinking about Garrett again.
She didn’t want him in a romantic way. The idea of him professing love was laughable and who had time for it right now, anyway? Nemesis had hinted the Loyalists would make a big move any time now. TheirD-Day was coming. Fallingin love was something people with spare time could afford to indulge in, not her.
Besides, if she was going to fall in love it wasn’t going to be with Garrett, God forbid! She wanted him, yes—her body seemed to have a mind of its own in that regard. She burned with the need to have him. It was purely physical.
I bet he’s good in bed—all that drive and passion.
Carmen rolled over again and brusheda small pebble out from under her bag, then hugged her arms around her.Sleep, she commanded herself, trying to ignore the flash image/sense of Garrett’s mouth on her throat, his hands on her—
“Sleep,” she whispered and dredged up the nursery rhyme that had broken her thoughts and let her sleep in the small hours of the night, last night.
Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow.
Snow. She had only seen snow for the first time in her life when she had gone to Harvard.
And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go….
* * * * *
A hand on her shoulder woke her. Carmen jerked in surprise. Instantly, the heavy ache in her mind and limbs that said she hadn’t slept enough registered.
Remembering her training, Carmen rolled onto her back to see who woke her, insteadof speaking aloud.
It was Garrett. The late night made him a shadow in the darkness, yet there was no mistaking his outline.
He reached under the net and picked up her wrist, curling his hand around it, then pulled her toward him. He lifted the net out of her way and she rolled onto her knees, then onto her feet and ducked under the net. She found the flat shoes she had worn toValleLeñosaand pushed them on. She already wore a teeshirt and her jeans. Lying on top of her bag in her underwear would have sent entirely the wrong message to the men who slept around her.
Angelo had been another shield against possible overtures. While he shared her bag, no one else would try to horn in. She had sent him away for the last three nights, her lack of sleep killing any friendliness she felttoward him.
Garrett drew her to her feet, then he threaded his way through the sleeping camp, moving silently and bringing her with him.
What did he want? Was something happening? Had the Loyalists in Acapulco sent them a message? The radio sat on Garrett’s desk. He might have heard something that wasn’t urgent enough to rouse the whole camp.
Only, he led her away from the door into the monastery,out through the crumbling walls and around the building. This was the same route she had taken a week ago when she had gone looking for him.
Carmen held her tongue until they were far enough away from the sleeping camp that her voice would not stir them. “Where are we going?”
He kept on walking.
“Garrett?”
They rounded the northwest corner. The last of the waning moon shone upon the white,smooth walls of the monastery itself. Over to the left was the out-building where Garrett had hidden and drunk himself into a daze. This time, he stayed close to the wall of the main building, where the path was smooth and flat.
“Tell me what’s happening,” Carmen demanded. She tugged at the grip he had on her wrist. “Garrett!”
He turned and pressed her up against the wall, his body against hers.Carmen gasped and grew still. Her heart, though, thudded frantically. This was too much like her dreams.
The moon was behind him. All she could see of Garrett’s face was the black pits of his eyes and the edge of his jaw, rough with stubble once again.
His hand came up close to her face and even in the moonlight she could see it trembled. He brushed her hair from her face, making her catch herbreath, for it was a gentle movement.
Then he cupped her face. His hand was hot. His thumb brushed her cheek and the touch sent sparks flitting through her nerves. Carmen drew in a breath, starved for air. The breath shuddered.
