One Intrepid Seal. Elle James

to throb. They needed to stop and rest soon.

      He came across a clearing in the jungle, where the trees on the edges were large enough to provide shelter for them.

      When he stopped beside one of the trees, he turned to Reese.

      “Please tell me you’re just stopping to catch your breath,” she said, bending over to rest her hands on her knees, her breathing labored. “You know how I am about heights. It’s not something I’ll ever outgrow.”

      “It’s the safest place to sleep. If you want to stay on the ground, you’re welcome to it. You might be sharing it with snakes, big cats, warthogs and gorillas. The mosquitoes alone might kill you. I’m going up. And I have a mosquito net.”

      Reese straightened and slapped at her cheek. “Mosquito net? What armed aggressor carries a mosquito net into an operation?”

      “One who’s going into the jungle. I brought the very basics for survival, in case I was separated from my team.”

      “How fortuitous. I don’t suppose you have a cell phone in one of your pockets?”

      Diesel could see the pale outline of her face in the murky darkness, but not the expression in her eyes. “We were equipped with two-way radio headsets, but we’re too far away from my team to communicate, and the chances of finding a cell phone transmission tower in the jungle are slim to none. The cell phone I have probably won’t work until we make it all the way to Kinshasa.”

      Reese tipped up her head. “I really hate climbing trees,” she muttered and grabbed a hold of a low-hanging branch. “And what will keep a big cat from climbing the tree with us?”

      “I think we can fend off a big cat in a tree easier than we can on the ground. I do have a weapon.”

      “With that weapon, couldn’t we fight off everything on the ground, then?” Reese pulled herself up onto the first branch.

      “We need to get some rest. You might not like heights, but I’m not fond of snakes. I’d rather take my chances in a tree than on the ground.”

      “Fine. I’m climbing. But don’t expect me to like it,” she grumbled.

      He chuckled and climbed up behind her. “I didn’t expect you to.” He handed her a tube. “Drink.”

      “Where did you get water?”

      “I have a water container on my back. Standard issue. Beats the hell out of canteens.”

      She sipped and then sat back. “I didn’t realize how thirsty I was. As humid as it is, you’d think we wouldn’t need to drink.”

      “All the more reason to keep hydrated.” He tucked the tube away and tipped his head up. “Wait here.”

      She raised her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

      Diesel climbed higher, found a fork in a sturdy branch, broke off some boughs full of leaves and twigs and laid them in the fork. He figured if the gorillas could make nests, he could too. Soon he had a relatively secure place for them to sleep through the remainder of the night. He hooked the mosquito netting from a branch above and camouflaged it with leaves.

      When he was satisfied, he turned to climb back down, only to find Reese scooting out on the limb.

      “I got tired of waiting,” she said.

      The meager light that found its way through the canopy gave just enough illumination for her to see what he’d been working on. “Looks like a cocoon.”

      “It is, in a way. Crawl on in.”

      “You sure it’ll hold me?” she asked, still hesitating.

      “I’ve been all over it. It’s pretty sturdy.”

      Reese eased beneath the netting and stopped. “Can we be seen from below?”

      “Won’t know until daylight. Go ahead. Get some rest. I’ll take first watch.”

      “No way. You’re the injured party. I should have been up here doing all this while you rested.”

      “I’m fine. It’s just a—”

      “Flesh wound,” she finished. “You men. You could have a sucking chest wound and you’d still call it a flesh wound. At least let me do a better job on the bandage, now that we’re far enough away from our pursuers.”

      “If it’ll get you inside, okay.” He slipped into the nest beside her and turned his arm toward her.

      “Got a flashlight? I’d like to see what I’m working with.”

      He handed her a small flashlight with a red lens. “Better than nothing and not as visible from a distance.”

      She nodded, wedged the flashlight into the netting and pointed it at Diesel’s arm. Then she tried to untie the knotted bloody fabric.

      Every time her knuckles grazed the wound, Diesel flinched.

      “It’s getting red and puffy around the wound. You need medical attention.”

      “Why? I have you.” He winked.

      She frowned.

      “Why the frown?” He touched her cheek.

      Was she frowning? Reese schooled her face, ripped off another strip of fabric from her shirt, made a pad with part of it and pressed it to his wound, maybe a little harder than she should have.

      He flinched. “Mad about something?”

      “This whole situation. I’m supposed to be on a diplomatic mission with Ferrence Klein, protecting him from threats, not alone in the jungle with a stranger, far from my client.”

      “Sometimes plans change. Missions change. You have to learn to roll with the punches.”

      She glanced at the nest of branches. “I’m rolling.” She nodded toward the makeshift bed. “You sleep. I’m taking first watch.”

      “I don’t need much sleep. You can go first.”

      Her lips curled on the corners. “Do you always argue this much? You’ve lost blood. You need to rest.” She switched off the flashlight and remained in an upright position, refusing to lie down beside him.

      Diesel could tell by the stubborn tilt of her chin that he couldn’t change her mind. Used to catching Z’s wherever and whenever he had the opportunity, he’d make use of this time to refill his internal store of energy. “Have it your way. But wake me in a couple hours. You need to sleep, too. We might have a long trek ahead of us tomorrow.” When he woke, he’d figure a way out of the jungle and back to his normal routine.

      He lay staring up into the darkness, wide awake, wondering about this woman he’d rescued from the rebels. She wasn’t like most women he knew. “How did you end up hiring on to protect Klein?”

      “I had some connections,” she replied.

      “What’s your background? What makes you qualified to protect Klein?”

      She hesitated only for a moment before firing back, “What makes you qualified to recover him?” She was feisty and gave as good as she got.

      Diesel chuckled. “I’m in the navy. My team was tasked with the mission to rescue you and Klein.”

      Silence stretched between them.

      “Four years active duty in the army and two years on the MMA circuit.”

      “MMA?” he asked.

      “Mixed Martial Arts.”

      “Why the army?” he asked.

      “Why the navy?”

      “Family legacy. My father was a marine, my grandfather was in the navy. I guess you could say it was in my blood. I like a challenge,” Diesel said. “Your