Bridal Op. Dana Marton

their own well-worn trails. That’s why we are staying off them.”

      They walked on for a minute or two before she spoke again. “All right. Your turn. I’ll take the machete while you eat.”

      “That’s not necessary.” He turned around with a come on now smile that quickly wilted off his face at the look in her eyes.

      “So your plan is to keep up the whole do this, don’t do that, stay ten steps behind while macho man makes sure everything is okay thing for the entire duration of this mission?” She cocked her head with a mild expression on her face.

      Was she serious? “It’s— I’ve been to the jungle before and you haven’t.” Her words ticked him off. “Damn right I’m going to try to protect you.”

      “Protect does not mean ‘boss around,’” she said sweetly, but her eyes weren’t smiling.

      “You think we have enough time to hold a meeting over every little thing and discuss our differences until we come to a consensus?”

      “That’s not what I meant.”

      “Then what do you mean, exactly?”

      “I meant what I said.” She marched up to him. “Give me the damn machete.”

      She didn’t look like she was kidding—her feet set apart, her gaze locked on to his face. He hated to think what this was going to do to the tender skin of her palms, which had been already damaged by the ropes. But he handed over the slightly curved blade and took a quick step back as she lifted it in an arch and went at the vegetation.

      The woman used the machete like she meant it.

      Maybe she was right and she needed less protection than he’d thought. He gave her plenty of room before he followed, pulling some dried meat and a bottle of water from a pocket of his backpack. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the food hit his stomach.

      They were going slower than if he was in the lead but only marginally. And being second in line wasn’t a bad position after all. There were advantages—watching Isabelle twist and bend, her hair swaying around her shoulders as she went about her work with unabashed enthusiasm.

      Normally, he would have regarded with caution anyone who wielded a knife that big. Oddly enough, he found the sight of her with that machete a serious turn-on. Not a surprise, come to think of it. He’d found most everything about Isabelle enticing from the moment they’d first met.

      For the past few days, he had barely thought about the fact that right now he should be out on the water, testing his brand new boat, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze instead of being sweaty and tired to the bone, trekking through the jungle. Isabelle’s company more than made up for his lost vacation.

      She kept up the backbreaking work for a solid hour before she slowed.

      “Okay.” She wiped her forehead. “You can take over for a while. Then we’ll switch back.”

      A fine sheen of sweat dampened the strawberry-blond locks at her forehead and neck, and she was breathing hard but had a look of utter satisfaction on her face that made her irresistibly beautiful.

      “Have to say, I never pictured you doing this kind of stuff—considering those high heel, strappy sandals and flirty skirts and all that you wear at the office,” he teased.

      “I don’t wear flirty skirts,” she snapped mildly, but her eyes were smiling.

      “Mmm.”

      “Anyway, I have four brothers. I had to grow up tough,” she said.

      He had to admit he found this tougher, physical side of her that was coming out in the jungle just as enticing as the soft, more cerebral role she filled at the office.

      He grinned as he took the machete from her and cracked his neck before settling into the task at hand. The rest had been nice. Now that he was head of security at Weddings Your Way, his job involved a lot of desk duty, and although he made sure he kept in shape clearing brush in the jungle was a lot more strenuous than anything the trainers could throw at him at the gym.

      All the more impressive that she’d done it for as long as she had.

      He put some muscle into it and made progress, speaking little for the next hour or so. Then he could set the machete aside as the vegetation grew sparser again.

      The sound of airplanes as they took off and landed came from fairly close by, as did other sounds of civilization—motors, metal banging against metal somewhere in the distance.

      “Watch every step,” he said. “I don’t think the army would have perimeter sensors this far out but no sense in taking a chance.”

      She nodded, scanning the ground and trees around her.

      They crept forward another few hundred feet before they reached the end of the woods and had to drop to their stomachs. Crawling silently, they soon reached a rocky ledge and were rewarded with an excellent overview of the small military base below.

      “You think she’s in there?” she whispered next to him as they lay on the rock shoulder to shoulder. “Fuentes said at the military base.”

      “I doubt she’s inside. Even if the kidnappers have connections at the base, the risk of discovery would be too great there. Can’t bribe everybody.” He scanned the open land and the surrounding woods. “I do think that she is someplace very close, though.”

      Other than the military base there were dozens of huts, a small store and other public buildings for those who made a living by selling things to the base or by working there. He could smell the pig farm before he spotted it, sprawling to the edge of the forest on the other side of the base.

      “Let’s circle around,” he said.

      “It’ll go faster if we split up.”

      “Okay,” he agreed with some reluctance. She’d proven over and over that she could handle herself. Besides, she wouldn’t be part of Miami Confidential if she couldn’t. “If you find anything call me on the two-way.”

      THAT WAS IT? He wasn’t going to tell her they should stick together so he could protect her? Isabelle stared at him for a long moment, swallowing the list of objections she’d already prepared.

      “All right. Good luck.” She moved back toward the woods where she could circle the base without being spotted.

      “Be careful,” he said, and took off in the opposite direction.

      She walked a good three hundred yards before she broke cover and crawled to the edge of the woods again, taking a good view at the six-foot-high cement fence and the barbed wire on top, the evenly spaced guard towers that were manned. A row of shacks had been built just outside the wall, with small kitchen gardens between them. A woman came out of one and tossed a bowl of dirty water, yelling something to the group of children who played nearby.

      “Sí, Mama,” one of them responded.

      The woman went back inside.

      Isabelle counted the shacks, eleven in all. She waited and watched as more people came and went and identified the huts that nobody seemed to be using. Still, it was hard to say whether they were truly abandoned or the occupants were merely at work somewhere on the base.

      A few hours remained until sunset. She couldn’t go any closer than this until then, so for the time being she moved on, hoping to survey her half of the circle and meet up with Rafe somewhere ahead with a few suggestions on what they should investigate further.

      The next cluster of buildings ahead was the pig farm, another two hundred yards from the huts. She pulled back into the woods where she could walk instead of having to crawl on her stomach to avoid being detected. She kept track of the distance, moving toward the base again once she thought she’d gone far enough.

      She crouched for a second to listen before she went out into the open, and the precaution paid off. Now that