gruffly. Isabeau had him so hard walking might break something.
“Dillon?” Mason’s shaggy blond head popped in the tent. “What are you two doing here?”
Isabeau slipped to her feet and stood behind Dillon with her face buried against his back.
“I was making my rounds. I saw the tent had been tampered with, so I investigated.”
After clearing his throat, Mason said, “Same here. Russ reported unusual activity, so I came to check it out.” His face glowed red. “I heard…well, I could tell someone was in here.” He tipped his chin toward Isabeau. “I’m sorry for the disturbance, ma’am. I was just doing my job.”
“Wait—wasn’t Russ patrolling the perimeter of the mines? When did he report in?”
“About ten minutes ago, I guess.” Mason frowned. “How long have you been here?”
“Less than five,” Dillon said. “We must have just missed them.” Glancing over his shoulder to ensure Isabeau was covered, he stroked her arm in silent order to remain still. “We might have spooked them, but there’s a cut the width of my thumb opposite the flap. Big enough the seams bulged where the canvas pulled, but not big enough for a body to squeeze through to the inside.”
Now that his head was clearing, his blood pressure rose. Trust had never been an issue. As far as he knew all the colonists were on the level. So who would try and enter the tent, and why?
“That’s good news at least.” Mason glanced past Isabeau to the sled. “Nothing was taken?”
“Nothing I noticed.” Ignoring how he kept shifting to keep himself between her and Mason, he forced himself to focus. “I still had to work the laces to get in. I doubt someone we interrupted would have stopped and tied it up on their way out. So they must have bailed when we arrived.”
“Okay, next question.” Mason tapped the sled. “You want me to take care of this for you?”
“I’ve got it.” He faced Isabeau, pretending this wasn’t an escape. “I’ve got to handle this.”
“Of course.” Her swollen lips curved in a temping smile. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
He grabbed her shirtfront as she passed and dragged her close. He didn’t have to, but he kissed her, hard, refreshing the memories of all the males present that she was his. “Be careful.”
She nodded. “Does your invitation stand, or would my waiting in your tent be a mistake ?”
“It’s a mistake.” Resisting the urge to kiss away her frown, he played his part. “But if I get there and you’re not there, then you better hope like hell you can outrun me twice in one night.”
Her eyes glittered. “Don’t tempt me.” Her hips swayed in sweet invitation as she passed.
“And, Isabeau?”
She hesitated before turning. “Yes?”
“Lose the shirt.” His voice turned hoarse without even trying. “Leave the rest.”
Laughter trailed her from the tent. Dillon followed two steps before Mason chuckled.
“Emma will skin you alive if you hurt her.” He sounded amused. “You know that, right?”
“Nothing is going to happen.” That he wanted it to was dangerous enough.
“Famous last words.” Mason watched her go. “If you’re not going, can I go in your place?”
He was joking. Dillon knew it. He gritted his teeth. “Try it.”
Mason’s eyes narrowed. “Really? It wouldn’t bother you at all if I—?”
Dillon’s hand closed around Mason’s neck before the move registered. “What do you think?”
Gasping for breath, Mason pried from Dillon’s grip and stumbled back a step. “I was thinking after the way you acted earlier that something’s going on with you.” He rubbed his throat. “You’re running hot and cold, and it’s more than just your leg or your job. You’re wired.”
“I’m not—” Dillon stopped himself. Mason was the one male he didn’t want to start lying to. “I’ll deal with it.”
“Will you? You haven’t so far.” He stared in the direction Isabeau had gone.
“It’s not her fault.”
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