Read Online Boneyard Ridge by Paula Graves - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Paula Graves
Ads: Link
bit more. Learn a little about the lay of the land, take time to formulate an actual plan, rather than act on impulse.
But she was going to make a break for it, sooner or later.
She wasn’t the pampered princess he’d thought she was. That much was certain.
But what, exactly, was she? Why was she hiding those gorgeous hazel-tipped gray eyes behind contacts? Why had he spotted in her dusky hair hints of blond roots gleaming like gold in the firelight?
And those scars he’d spotted, barely visible on her smooth, shapely legs, weren’t razor nicks. They were evidence of a hard-knock childhood spent doing things like climbing trees and skinning her knees and shins on rocks and roots.
So, a tomboy. And a mountain girl, too. Her accent was almost neutral, her vocabulary sophisticated, but he’d caught a hint here and there of her Appalachian roots.
And if he retained any capacity for reading people, the woman was hiding something. Something big. Important.
Life-threatening?
He wished he could get in touch with Quinn, but until he received some sort of all-clear signal, he had to assume that his available lines of communication were compromised. Ever since Quinn had involved himself in the currently dormant investigation of the Blue Ridge Infantry, the former spook had become downright paranoid about infiltration.
A few weeks on the ground with the BRI had convinced Hunter that his boss was probably giving the ragtag band of soldier wannabes and washed-out former grunts a lot more credit for cohesion and strategic planning than they deserved.
But maybe Quinn knew something Hunter didn’t. Hunter had been in the Army long enough to realize that sometimes in a war, the soldiers on the ground could see only part of a larger strategy playing out across a wide and varied battlefield.
Maybe Billy Dawson and his crew weren’t the tip of the BRI spear.
Maybe they were the distraction.
The hiss of the space heater near the bed wasn’t loud enough to mask the sounds of movement coming from the front room. For a second, his gut tightened as he feared he’d miscalculated the strength of her desire to get away from him, and he was halfway out of the room before he recognized what he was hearing.
She was turning on the lamps in the front room. He could hear the soft clicks of the power knobs turning. Even from here, he could see the glow of the lamp bulbs as they flicked on, one after another.
He supposed she’d had about all the darkness this evening she could stand.
He had, too, he thought, reaching for the bedroom light switch and flicking on the light.
He looked the room over with a critical eye. He hadn’t had time to do more than neaten the place up before he’d had to head back to the hotel in hopes of getting her out of harm’s way before Billy’s men struck.
He heard footsteps approaching down the hallway, and he steeled himself for her appearance as he turned toward the doorway.
She stopped in the portal, looking past him briefly to take in the particulars of the room before turning her sharp eyes to him. She’d removed the other brown contact lens, he saw, receiving the full impact of those cool gray-hazel eyes.
He blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Fresh sheets.”
Her lips curved slightly. “Good to know.”
Well, now he felt like an idiot.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“The door you passed to get here.”
“Thanks.”
“I guess I’ll go, then.”
She gave a little nod and watched him all the way in as he closed the distance between them, edging around her in the tight space between the bed and the door. Her body radiated heat and the lingering green-apple scent that had haunted him all afternoon, ever since he’d shared the elevator with her earlier.
Everything about this whole damn mission had gone belly-up, he thought as he rode a wave of frustration and testosterone into the cabin’s small front room. And he had no idea how to fix it.
But he’d better figure it out,
But she was going to make a break for it, sooner or later.
She wasn’t the pampered princess he’d thought she was. That much was certain.
But what, exactly, was she? Why was she hiding those gorgeous hazel-tipped gray eyes behind contacts? Why had he spotted in her dusky hair hints of blond roots gleaming like gold in the firelight?
And those scars he’d spotted, barely visible on her smooth, shapely legs, weren’t razor nicks. They were evidence of a hard-knock childhood spent doing things like climbing trees and skinning her knees and shins on rocks and roots.
So, a tomboy. And a mountain girl, too. Her accent was almost neutral, her vocabulary sophisticated, but he’d caught a hint here and there of her Appalachian roots.
And if he retained any capacity for reading people, the woman was hiding something. Something big. Important.
Life-threatening?
He wished he could get in touch with Quinn, but until he received some sort of all-clear signal, he had to assume that his available lines of communication were compromised. Ever since Quinn had involved himself in the currently dormant investigation of the Blue Ridge Infantry, the former spook had become downright paranoid about infiltration.
A few weeks on the ground with the BRI had convinced Hunter that his boss was probably giving the ragtag band of soldier wannabes and washed-out former grunts a lot more credit for cohesion and strategic planning than they deserved.
But maybe Quinn knew something Hunter didn’t. Hunter had been in the Army long enough to realize that sometimes in a war, the soldiers on the ground could see only part of a larger strategy playing out across a wide and varied battlefield.
Maybe Billy Dawson and his crew weren’t the tip of the BRI spear.
Maybe they were the distraction.
The hiss of the space heater near the bed wasn’t loud enough to mask the sounds of movement coming from the front room. For a second, his gut tightened as he feared he’d miscalculated the strength of her desire to get away from him, and he was halfway out of the room before he recognized what he was hearing.
She was turning on the lamps in the front room. He could hear the soft clicks of the power knobs turning. Even from here, he could see the glow of the lamp bulbs as they flicked on, one after another.
He supposed she’d had about all the darkness this evening she could stand.
He had, too, he thought, reaching for the bedroom light switch and flicking on the light.
He looked the room over with a critical eye. He hadn’t had time to do more than neaten the place up before he’d had to head back to the hotel in hopes of getting her out of harm’s way before Billy’s men struck.
He heard footsteps approaching down the hallway, and he steeled himself for her appearance as he turned toward the doorway.
She stopped in the portal, looking past him briefly to take in the particulars of the room before turning her sharp eyes to him. She’d removed the other brown contact lens, he saw, receiving the full impact of those cool gray-hazel eyes.
He blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Fresh sheets.”
Her lips curved slightly. “Good to know.”
Well, now he felt like an idiot.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“The door you passed to get here.”
“Thanks.”
“I guess I’ll go, then.”
She gave a little nod and watched him all the way in as he closed the distance between them, edging around her in the tight space between the bed and the door. Her body radiated heat and the lingering green-apple scent that had haunted him all afternoon, ever since he’d shared the elevator with her earlier.
Everything about this whole damn mission had gone belly-up, he thought as he rode a wave of frustration and testosterone into the cabin’s small front room. And he had no idea how to fix it.
But he’d better figure it out,
Similar Books
