Wild Encounter (11 page)

She sighed.

“Come on. Let’s try to look pleased to see them,” she murmured, setting off.

But as she drew closer, her sixth sense began to thrum. She squinted and stood straighter as the two new arrivals hauled military kits out of the back of their vehicle. It wasn’t the fluid way they moved in perfect synch that got her attention—although that did bring with it an air of authority—it was something else. Something she couldn’t quite—

Her stomach dropped as a sudden realization swamped her.

Impossibl
e
!

Panic rushed in to fill the vacuum. She stood, transfixed, as the male half of the duo straightened and turned toward her. She gasped past the dryness that invaded her mouth.

Simon
.

Chapter Eight

“Clare?”

Mitch’s voice was only a whoosh in her head as her body fired into action. Self-preservation ignited her as she twisted on the spot and bolted away from Tim and Mitch.

And danger!

Was she running in mud or did it just feel that way? She caught the bemused stares of the local workers as she sprinted past the holding yards, then changed course to lead attention away from them. If Simon was here that meant
they
were here, and Clare didn’t want any innocent workers getting caught up in it.

The thick scrub beckoned and she dove through the first opening she could find, sickening familiarity turning her stomach. It wasn’t much of a pathway. Sharp branches tore at her unprotected skin, but she crashed on through, burying herself deeper in the protective embrace of the African bush.

She hadn’t gotten nearly as far as she would have liked when she heard a shout behind her. The innocent bush trees snapped and cracked as something large exploded into them.

Her mind screamed. Simon was closing in.

Why was he here? How had he found them? Had he come back for the dogs?
Or her?
And how the
hell
had he managed to fool the British embassy?

But in the midst of all those thoughts, only one thing chanted in time with her pumping heart.

He’s here… he’s here…he’s here
.

And above that…
He’s alive!

“Clare, stop!”

She cut left, away from his voice, and belted through an agony of tangled bracken. Her sunglasses were all that saved her eyes from being punctured blind. Behind her, she could hear the crunch of branches and the steady crash of heavy feet.
Getting closer
.

Her wits finally battled through the fear, and she veered again to weave her way back to the campsite and the safety of her team. Whatever was happening, she had a better chance of surviving it with her colleagues nearby than alone.

Tears prickled. She was
not
going to be singled out again. She couldn’t do it.

“For Christ’s sake, Clare.
Stop!
”

Sudden deceleration knocked the wind out of her as powerful arms snagged her to a halt. If her heart hadn’t already been exploding out of her chest with adrenaline, it would have at the first tight contact with arms she’d thought never to feel around her again.

She closed her eyes against the need blistering through her flesh.

Only Simon’s strength stopped them both from tumbling onto the hard ground.

Through the thunder in her ears, voices drew closer, calling to her. The approach of the cavalry was all that kept her from crying out as he pulled her close against his side, tucked under his arm, hard up close to his body. Urging her back through the bracken, he shielded her body with his own from the worst of the whips and jags until they finally emerged into a clearing.

Musai was the first to break through and find them, his dark eyes alert and anxious.

“Do not run,” Simon warned quietly, then released her in the small man’s direction. She stumbled straight into Musai’s protective hold.

Simon’s female partner burst into the clearing next. She took up a defensive position immediately, lasering in on Clare and Musai with a nasty looking weapon straight out of a Terminator movie.

“Stand down,” Simon barked at her.

She spun instead, directing her weapon at Mitch, who’d just broken through the bush armed with his shotgun. Tim was in close pursuit carrying a shovel. Mitch assessed the scene and immediately leveled his weapon at Simon.

“
Stand down
!” Simon repeated, this time to both of them.

Everyone in the clearing sucked in anxious breaths as Clare’s team and the two new arrivals took measure of each other. Her flight suspended, she finally focused on the man across from her.

He’s alive.

Alive and well, judging by his appearance. Really well. A trickle of relief seeped in below her shock.

His hair was shorter than she remembered, almost military in cut. He was every bit as powerful as she recalled, but looked somehow bigger in the expertly tailored suit. All the nagging doubts she’d had since leaving him to fend for himself in the farmhouse vanished.

He was okay.

She didn’t need to see behind his slick sunglasses to know the exact moment his eyes locked on her. Everything stopped—her breath, her heartbeat, her brain.

A nervous Mitch called out as more reinforcements from camp appeared in the clearing. “Clare? What the hell is going on?”

Musai shifted her carefully behind him, a small but determined human barrier. Simon’s lips thinned. He ignored the shotgun trained shakily on his chest.

“We are the escort the British embassy advised you about,” Simon said carefully, succinctly. “You were expecting us.”

Mitch looked at her, obviously baffled, then back to Simon. His shotgun made him their spokesman. “Not exactly like this but, yes, we were expecting guards.”

Clare’s mind raced. “He’s not with the embassy,” she told Mitch, hating the involuntary wobble in her voice. “He’s one of
them
. One of the men who hijacked the dogs last year.”

And me
.

Mitch didn’t take his eyes—or his aim—off Simon. Tim stiffened to his full height and stepped closer, wielding the shovel like a broadsword.

“You’re certain?” Tim asked.

Was he freaking kidding? “Yes.”

Simon slowly moved his hands out in front of him in a conciliatory gesture, speaking loudly to everyone in the clearing.

“My name is Simon deVries and this is my partner, Caitlin McKenzie. We are field operatives for MI6, Britain’s Secret Intelligence Service, and are here at the request of our embassy to ensure your activities don’t encounter any further difficulties.”

His words struck Claire like a bullet. “Liar!”

His jaw worked at her accusation, but he calmly continued, “Last year, I spent several months undercover in a criminal cell, the same one that intercepted WildLyfe’s convoy near Monze and hijacked the animals. We also captured Ms. Delaney, who is, understandably, looking more than a little nervous right now.”

Outrage flared live and burning in her gut.

All eyes turned her way. She was now flanked on three sides by Musai, Tim, and Mitch. Behind her was a clear path into the bush. She took a steadying breath, ready to flee.

“I was under strict orders by British Intelligence. My mission was to monitor the group, report back on their actions, gather evidence on the suspects and impede their progress.”

The words buzzed in Clare’s muddled brain, trying to penetrate.

“I tell you this because, right now, Ms. Delaney looks frightened enough to bolt off into the bush permanently and I want to set the record straight before anyone does anything stupid.”

He glanced pointedly at Clare as he plucked a cluster of leaves from a tear in his expensive suit.

“I want to be very clear. We are here as representatives of the British government and we mean nobody any harm. Quite the opposite.” He spoke slowly enough that the hired hands with their zero English could have understood his tone, at least. “McKenzie will stand down now as a show of faith.”

His partner made no move to disarm. Simon looked at her hard. “Mac.”

Reluctantly, and on a crude curse, she lowered her weapon. Mitch slowly lowered the shotgun.

Simon leveled a look at Tim, who still wielded his ridiculous shovel. He planted it in the earth.

“McKenzie and I will go back to our vehicle while you assess the situation. However, when we return, we expect to be able to discuss this calmly with the leaders of this project.”

He tossed Clare one last glance before he and his partner headed back toward camp. Mitch and Tim both turned to her. She stood there, silently shaking inside and out.

“Are you okay?” Tim scrutinized her face.

“Did he say British government?” Mitch asked at the same time.

Clare couldn’t think with voices coming at her at once. With her whole world bucking.

Musai was the only one not staring at her, demanding answers. His steely gaze was riveted to where Simon and his partner had disappeared into the trees. Strangely, that was more comforting than any of the hands now patting her back or rubbing her goose-pimpled arms.

Undercover? Government?

She struggled to focus her spinning thoughts.

Deep down, it made more sense that Simon was a good guy pretending to be bad, rather than a bad guy pretending to be good. The embassy must have done checks… And he did look so at home in his government suit and dark SUV.

Mind you, she’d thought the same about his dirty T-shirt and boots in the farmhouse.

“Clare, is it true? He was really one of them?”

“Yes, Mitch. He—” her voice still shook “—he was the only decent man among them.”

Now she knew why. No wonder he’d tried so hard to keep her safe. She’d stumbled right into the middle of his undercover operation—God, even
thinking
the term seemed bizarre—and most likely almost ran it off the rails. She suddenly recalled the many things he’d said and done that pointed to him being more than he seemed.

She hadn’t had a clue. Hadn’t even once suspected.

“And he didn’t tell you?” Tim wondered incredulously.

It was a good question. Why hadn’t he? It would have made such a difference to know she had an ally in the house. A highly trained Secret Intelligence officer. A tiny voice challenged that, on some level, she’d recognized the difference in him all along. Virtually from the start.

“Well, this is one hell of a way to let her know. Nothing like a bit of advance warning!” Mitch’s outburst on her behalf warmed her, finally coaxing a hint of a smile to her lips.

“Maybe he thought it would be better for me to find out surrounded by friends?” Clare offered.

“You’re not
defending
him?” Tim gaped. “The man kidnapped you and left you to fend for yourself, Clare. He’s an SIS spook but you had to get out of that viper’s nest all on your own.”

“I’m aware of that,” she said, realizing suddenly that Tim knew a lot more about her ordeal than she’d ever told anyone outside of the police. Apparently money really did talk.

Clare just wanted to be by herself, to process everything she’d heard. Even the small team crowding around her felt as claustrophobic as the cramped floor of the truck they’d forced her into all those months ago.

“I need to think,” she said, pulling away from the protective circle. “Can someone please make sure our escorts get settled? And Mitch, will you tell them whatever they need to know?”

She desperately needed to get away on her own and think through this unexpected bombshell before facing Simon. She smiled reassuringly at her worried colleagues, and then backed away, raising both her hands, unconsciously warding them off.

“Please, I just need time to think.”

And figure out what she’d rather do—kill the man with her bare hands…or take him in her arms and kiss him senseless.

…

At least she hadn’t screamed.

Clare emerged from the scrub ten paces ahead of her fellow WildLyfers. She looked dreadful—pale, fragile, and haunted. He’d been so foolish to harbor secret hopes of how she might react when she finally saw him again.

Thrilled. Excited. Pleased, at least?

He shook his head. It really couldn’t have been worse.

The way her heart had nearly beat through her chest when he’d grabbed her. The way she’d stood across the clearing shaking with confusion and disbelief. He didn’t need to be up close to recognize she was terrified.

Of him
.

In that moment, he fully regretted obeying the strict order prohibiting him from contacting her before now. He should have told her about himself as soon as the undercover part of the op was over. And yet, would that truly have made any difference?

He’d read the reports. So calm and matter-of-fact. He knew the score. She’d admitted on record that she’d befriended one of her captors to get him on her side.

Befriended
. Is that what they called it in Boston?

Yet somewhere deep in his heart he’d hoped the reports were wrong. That what they’d had for a few precious hours in hell had meant something to her. That, at the sight of him, her brave, brown eyes would have filled with relief instead of fear.

Guess not.

“Nice speech,” McKenzie said, by his side. “You ever thought about transferring to the diplomatic branch?”

He didn’t smile, returning the intense stare of the small African man arriving back at the campsite. It was textbook conciliation protocol but he couldn’t explain to Mac the entire performance had really been for Clare’s benefit. He’d fessed up immediately to put her out of her misery. Funny thing was, she didn’t look particularly relieved once she knew he was SIS.