Page 12 of A SEAL's Protection
My senses remain alert as we walk. Surrounded by fresh air, with a gun in my pocket and a hint of danger, I can almost imagine I’m back with the Teams, doing what I love. Almost.
A few hours later, and we reconnect with the stream. It’s wider here, and the water flows along in an angry current.
Allegra stops by the bank and slides her pack off.
I observed her from a distance yesterday, going through her precise routine, and today I keep a little closer, crouching at the edge of the tree line out of sight as she gets her sample pack out.
She pulls out her camcorder and records a piece to the camera. She doesn’t bother to redo her hair, which has come out of its plait and is waving about in loose strands. I smile to myself, thinking she looks like a stereotype of a mad scientist with her hair waving everywhere. A very pretty mad scientist.
She’s meticulous in her work, checking her GPS coordinates and recording everything in her logbook. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing that for the first time today she seems truly relaxed, as if she’s forgotten I’m here. I crouch in the shadows, not wanting to break the spell.
She puts on her gloves and selects a beaker, and without stopping to change her footwear, wades into the stream.
I stand up and watch her. The rocks are slick with water, and the current tugs around her legs. She bends down to take a sample, her jaw set in determination. I’m not sure what she’s collecting or why; her father didn’t brief me on those details, but she takes it seriously. It makes me wonder if there’s more to Allegra Simpson than a rich girl playing at scientist. She seems to know exactly what she’s looking for.
She lifts up her vial of water and frowns. Her gaze goes to another part of the river, and she steps onto a rock to reach it. But the rock is slick with water, and her boot slips. Her arm jerks out for balance, and her other foot splashes into the water.
I move on instinct, crashing through the water to reach her. I catch her elbow and steady her before she goes down. Her weight leans against me for a moment, and I catch her scent ofchamomile and fresh air. I’m back in the forest two nights ago with her body under mine. Awareness flares in my veins, and heat jolts through me. My hand lingers on hers, not wanting to let her go.
She glares at me and jerks her elbow out of my hand.
“I’m fine,” she grits out.
Her body shakes, and her leggings are soaked from the near fall. But she’s too damn proud to show me any weakness.
I hold my hands up, aware that I’ve broken one of her rules, and retreat the required distance. Back to my position, watching her from the shadows. Aware of the silent barrier she’s set between us.
6
MARCUS
The scratch of a zipper startles me awake. Early morning light, pale and cold, filters into camp. There’s no need to hide from Allegra anymore, and last night I set up camp a respectful distance away behind a thicket of bushes, but not deep in the forest like I have been.
Allegra’s awake before me for once, and she emerges from her tent and stretches gracefully. Her hair is messy from sleep and hangs loose down her back. It’s the first time I’ve seen it free from a braid, and it’s longer than I imagined. The dawn sunlight makes it shimmer golden like a lion’s mane.
“Get a fucking grip,” I mutter to myself.
I’m here to protect her, not notice every detail of her fucking hair. I roll out of my bivy and scan the camp perimeter.
All is still this morning, and there’s a chill in the air.
When I glance back at Allegra, she’s crouched over an object on the ground. It’s her solar panel charger, which she left set up to charge with the early morning light. Her movements are sharpwith frustration as she mutters to herself. I take a few steps forward to get a better look at what’s put the frown on her face.
One panel is face down in the dirt. That can’t be good. I’m not sure exactly what she’s doing out here, but there’s equipment that needs power. The slim laptop she logs her work on, the battery packs for her GPS, and the charging kit for the no-frills filming I’ve watched her record.
Those solar panels aren’t for comfort; they’re powering her scientific work. If she can’t power the work, it chokes the research.
I check the sensors and all systems are green; nothing was tripped last night. I walk a wider perimeter, looking for anything unusual in the surroundings. Something silver catches my eye, and I crouch next to a large pine. It’s a protein bar wrapper, discarded on the forest floor, and next to it, in the soft dirt, boot prints. More than one. They’re together, as if someone crouched here.
It could be another hiker, or it could be someone watching.
A cold chill travels down my spine, and I jog back to camp, needing to keep Allegra in my line of sight.
She hasn’t acknowledged my presence, and I guess she’s still cross from yesterday—cross that I’m here at all.
I’m reluctant to break her rules and lose trust, but the downed panel needs a closer inspection, especially given what I found in the forest.
While she retrieves something from her tent, I use the opportunity to inspect the panel.
