Lakvik, Norway, March 9, 11:30 p.m.
Anders held their hut door for Karen, which was no small feat in the gale force winds. She helped him wrestle the wood panel shut, and threw the bar that served as a latch into its slots. The door rattled its protest. The storm was upon them.
The sudden stillness of the thick-walled hut surrounded Karen like a blanket. It stood in sharp contrast to the turmoil inside her. That Sami kid had nearly died, and she was loaded up with the same lethal drug he was.
Oh, sure, Aleesha had tried to reassure her. Had reminded Karen that she had only rolled around in the stuff, fully clothed. She hadn’t swallowed it or injected it, and that potentially made a huge difference in how her body reacted to it and whether or not it would affect her the same way it had this kid. Aleesha had also reminded Karen that everyone reacts differently to different medications, LSD in particular.
Not one bit of it made her feel any better. The drug inside her could still kill her.
Yet again, Anders seemed to pluck the thought right out of her head. “It won’t kill you,” he said quietly. “You’re strong.”
“I wasn’t strong enough to fight its effects when I went after Jack.”
“But you didn’t kill him. You overcame the drug’s effects. Besides, I’m not going to let you be alone for a second. You’re not in this fight alone anymore.”
“My own knight in shining armor, huh?”
He shrugged. “I prefer to think in terms of your own furclad Viking warrior conquering all your demons.”
“I’ll just call you Beowulf.”
He smiled at her, and her insides reacted with their usual twist of attraction. “We’ve still got several hours before we have to leave. You want to try to lie down and catch a nap?”
She sighed. “We ought to.”
Skipping a fire since they were due to leave on their op in a few hours, they duly crawled into their sleeping bags. Karen stared up into the dark, her eyes wide open. Whether it was the insomniac effect of the drug or her disquiet over the idea of dying, she couldn’t tell. But either way, sleep was not happening.
“You asleep?” Anders whispered after nearly a half hour.
“Not even close,” she replied, surprised. “Why aren’t you out cold?”
His voice floated out of the darkness. “Can’t get past the idea of losing you, I guess.”
Karen jolted upright. “You’d have to have me first in order to lose me.”
A rustle of nylon indicated he’d sat up, too, but he didn’t say anything. A flashlight flared, and Karen squinted into the sudden glare. She watched in silence as he got up and lit an oil lantern the Samis had provided. Her breath hung in the air in front of her, its fog obscuring the details of his expression. But she could still see he was dead serious as he turned to face her, his fists planted on his hips. Actually, he looked annoyed.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Karen Turner. I intend to have a relationship with you.”
Her mouth flapped open and shut a couple times. What in the bloody hell was she supposed to say in response to that? She blurted the only thing that came to mind. “I can’t possibly have a relationship with a guy I can beat in a fight.”
He studied her intently for several seconds. His eyes narrowed. “Fair enough, then. A fight it is. You owe me a rematch on that ambush, anyway. And I’m happy to take your twenty krone.”
She felt a smile hovering at the edges of her mouth. “Hah! Who says you’re going to win?”
“Only one way to find out.”
She stared over at him speculatively. “You’re on.”
He stared back for a long moment, then sighed. “I’d take you up on that, except I don’t want to trigger another episode in you.”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
“I’m not,” he retorted.
His words were a kick in the gut. He was afraid of her. She was so strong and so violent when the drug had her in its grip that he wouldn’t risk sparring with her.
“Shit,” Anders muttered. He stood up. Walked over to where she sat glumly and held a hand down to help her up. “C’mon. Let’s do it.”
Her gaze jerked up to him.
“I wasn’t worried about my own safety. I was worried about yours. I have no doubt that I can take you, drug-induced rage or not. I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself. If you have a seizure, I’ll go get Aleesha. I’m game to settle this thing between us if you are.”
She stared at his hand for a moment. She ought to be smart. Do the cautious thing and not chance losing control. Except she trusted Anders. He’d take care of her if she lost it.
“But what if I win? If I go nuts then, you could be in real danger.”
He shrugged, his hand still extended to her. “I’m willing to take that chance.”
She hesitated a moment longer, then reached out and took his hand. Their palms grasped, warmth to warmth, easy strength to easy strength. He gave a tug and she rose to her feet. She looked up the few inches into his ice-blue gaze and was startled by the intensity she saw there. Without releasing her hand, he pulled her closer until they stood chest to chest with only their clasped hands separating them.
“I will win, Karen,” he said quietly.
“How can you be so sure?” Damned if she wasn’t feeling a little…sheesh…breathless. She didn’t do breathless. But here she was, panting like a dog after a rabbit chase on a hot summer day.
“I’ll win because I’ve got so much riding on it. And I’m not talking about my health. I’m talking about us.”
A slow smile unfolded on his lips that tempted her to reach up and kiss it. So distracted was she by the urge to taste that chocolate-and-roses smile, that she almost didn’t catch his next words.
“You’ll lose because you want me, too.”
Her eyebrows shot straight up. “Of all the nerve!” she exclaimed.
He laughed. “And you love it.”
She stripped off her outer sweater and pushed her sleeping bag against the wall. “So, what are the rules of engagement here?”
He considered her for a moment. “Hand-to-hand. No weapons.”
She snorted. “Good call.”
He continued, “Yield the fight on a move that would incapacitate or kill, otherwise, no holds barred. We go until one of us cries Uncle.”
In other words, this would be a free-for-all, just like the last time they’d fought. This would be a test of strength on strength, skill on skill. And this time she wouldn’t have surprise on her side. Her natural desire to win surged to the fore. Except…he had a point. Wouldn’t it be lovely if he could beat her? Regardless, she wasn’t about to hand this to him. If he won, he’d have to do it fair and square.
“I’m not throwing the fight for you,” she warned him.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’d be tremendously disappointed if you did. I want to settle this once and for all. Here and now. And if you threw the fight, you still wouldn’t know if I could take you. We’d have to do it again.”
She laughed. “Okay, now that might just be the argument that makes me give this fight away.”
He took a step closer, invading her personal space, and glared down at her. He pronounced each word succinctly as he said, “Don’t you dare tank this on me.”
Ahh, there it was. Now she had him good and riled up. In her experience, special operators didn’t scream when they got well and truly pissed off. They went quiet. Got real still and focused. Like a tiger about to pounce and kill. Pretty much like he was doing right now.
Sparks flew as their gazes collided. “I wouldn’t dream of giving this to you,” she replied, her voice dripping with silky threat. “If you want it, you’re going to have to come and take it.”
He stepped back, and his gaze raked down her, stripping off every stitch of clothing she had on. His eyes blazed with silver fire. And her body tingled from head to foot. The fight. She was talking about the fight when she told him to come and take it.
Yeah, right.
A hum of need started vibrating low in her belly. A need to lay her hands on him, to have him do the same to her, pricked her palms until they tingled.
He nodded slowly, maybe in approval at what he saw as he blatantly ogled her, maybe in affirmation that he was, indeed, going to come and take everything she had—by force if necessary.
Fair enough. After all, she was the one who’d put him up to this fight. A fight she was going to get.
The two of them moved all their gear to one end of the hut and pushed aside the rocks that formed the fire pit. The whole center of the space was bare dirt now.
“Ready?” Anders asked, all business.
“Yup. Any time. Take your best shot.”
She stared in dismay when, instead of attacking, he shrugged out of his shirt. Now that was a hell of an unfair tactic. How was she supposed to fight with all that gorgeous, bare-skinned guy standing in front of her? Good grief, she could stare at his chest forever. It was all smooth skin, rippled bulges of bronze muscle and no body fat. None. The vibration of need low in her gut ratcheted up a notch to an insistent tickle.
“How in the heck do you manage to have a tan in this country at this time of year?” she demanded.
He grinned at her. “Thanks for noticing. After the Olympics, I spent a few weeks in the Caribbean. Remind me to take you there after this is all over. I know the most gorgeous beach. Totally deserted. You can strip down to your skin and sleep in the sun for hours.”
Oh, Lord. What an image that called to mind! Her and Anders naked together. No tan lines. Turquoise and emerald waves lapping up on soft, white sand. Just the two of them and a beach towel with the sun and the heat—
Holy cow.
“Shall we get started, then?” he asked politely.
Norway. Hut. Dark and cold. She grasped at her fragmented thoughts, pulling them away reluctantly from her island fantasy. At least Anders remained. And he was the only part that mattered.
He stepped forward, his hands held out in front of him, relaxed, but clearly at the ready.
“Is that a Krav Maga stance?” she asked conversationally as she circled him, relaxing into her own fighting stance. She pushed him to the left and what she knew to be his weaker side. Not that either side of an Olympic athlete would be all that weak at the end of the day.
“Yes, it is. I spent a year in Israel training with one of their counter-terrorism teams,” Anders answered casually as he jumped forward.
She jumped back fast from the feint. He didn’t follow it up with an attack. Measuring her reflexes, apparently.
“You’re quick,” he commented on cue.
“Thanks.”
They circled once more around the hut in silence, each watching how the other moved, their balance, how they shifted weight, the way they used their eyes. He was superbly coordinated. Totally aware of where his body was at all times. She could only imagine what making love with someone like that would be like. Someone who was aware of every millimeter of their own body and hers…damned if that tickle in her gut didn’t kick up to a rather uncomfortable tingle.
The fight, dammit!
Anders was giving her precious little by way of openings to exploit. But then, Krav Maga—the street-fighting technique developed by the Israeli Defense Forces for quick, effective take-downs—wasn’t about giving your opponent openings.
“You look lovely in this light,” Anders remarked, his voice sliding across her skin like velvet.
“Do you make love as smoothly as you talk?” she replied.
A dark smile was all the answer she needed. “Only one way to find out. Shall we take a rain check on that?”
Okay, the tingle had just become a shiver that shot up her spine. “You’ll have to beat me, first.”
“We have a plan, then. Win the fight; ravish the girl.” A pause while he forced her to reverse directions in their circling dance of stalk and retreat. Then he added, “Remind me to drive you out of your mind with pleasure before I’m done with you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You need a reminder of that?”
He laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “Hardly. I’m no inexperienced boy.”
That made her gulp. Knew his way around a woman, did he? And didn’t that just send the shiver shooting out to the tips of her fingers! And then he leaped in on the attack.
The move was designed to hit her off center and knock her off balance. He was too fast for her to dodge completely, so she stepped into the lunge and met him head-on. She grunted as his body slammed into hers. He tried to grab her wrists, but she evaded him with a nifty wrist slip. She jerked hard and spun, dragging his hand across her belly, electrifying her with the intimacy of it…and she was free! She jumped back, breathing hard.
He lunged again.
This time she dropped low, slipping under his attack and reaching for his legs as he went past. Her hands slid across his thighs. Registered rock-solid muscles. He’d have the capacity to make love hard and deep with all that muscle to back him up. She could just feel his thighs flexing against hers as he pounded into her. And given his cross-country skiing training, she’d bet he could keep the rhythm going for hours. He did a slick, midair direction reversal within her grasp and leaped clear.
The leg strength and agility it had taken for him to do that and not go sprawling was incredible. “Nice move,” she managed to force past the raging lust closing down her throat.
He grinned back at her. “I have lots of good moves. I can’t wait to show them all to you.”
She gulped. Did having an orgasm while in a half-Nelson constitute winning or losing this particular fight? It was getting hard to tell. Although two could play that game.
She gave as good as she got. “You know, pretty soon you’re going to break a sweat. And with all those gorgeous acres of glistening muscles to look at, I’ll be a goner. I’ll pack in the fight and ravish you instead.”
“Just so long as we understand that counts as a loss for you and a win for me,” he retorted. He tossed off the thumb lock she tried and added, “It remains to be seen who ravishes whom, however. After all, I’m the Viking.”
“Yeah, but I’m the reincarnated Viking goddess.” And she jumped. She feinted for his head, and as he ducked the grab, she plowed into his gut with her left fist. He grunted and spun away before she could grab him in a bear hug. Man, he was fast!
“Good shot,” he said, a little breathless himself.
“Need a break?” she asked.
He threw her a withering glare. “Do you actually ask hostiles that in the middle of a fight?”
“No,” she retorted scornfully.
“Then don’t ask it of me,” he bit out as he slid fast to her right and came in from the strong side. The move surprised her. Very few people ever attacked her strong side. She stumbled as he slammed his shoulder into hers, and was stunned to trip backwards over his right heel. How in the heck had he gotten that leg hooked behind hers without her noticing? She crashed to the dirt floor. At the last second, she partially tucked and rolled, enough to absorb the worst of the impact.
But Anders was on top of her before she could even draw a full breath.
She tossed her body weight from side to side and he partially lost his grasp on her, but he pursued her relentlessly.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he grunted. “I’m not letting you get away. I’ve waited my whole life for a woman like you.”
His whole life? Whoa. Distracted, she barely got an elbow wedged between them in time to stop him from putting a smothering, full-body hold on her.
“No fair distracting me,” she protested.
“Who said anything about playing fair? I want you.”
His forearm landed across her collarbones with his full body weight behind it. He’d pinned down her shoulders with bruising effectiveness. She lifted her right leg, struggling to wedge a knee between the two of them. Although why she should want to do that, she had no earthly idea. His body, sprawled across hers with only minimal clothing between them, felt absolutely delicious. An insidious, weakening warmth began to steal through her muscles. Instead, she wrapped her leg around his waist—oh, man, that felt amazing, having the right parts of him pressed against her core like that—and squeezed for all she was worth. It was probably futile to try to rob him of oxygen given his level of aerobic fitness, but it was the only move she had left.
She lurched against his arm, nonetheless, testing its strength. He rocked his weight forward to put more pressure on her shoulders, and in the process, ground his hips squarely against parts of her that needed no encouragement. Her leg tightened convulsively around his waist, pulling him even tighter against her. Heat scalded her feminine flesh.
A groan of bliss escaped her lips, and he jolted, raising himself up on his arm to stare down at her. Nope, she hadn’t gotten lucky. He hadn’t misinterpreted that sound.
His eyes blazed with raw desire. He rocked his hips against hers again. No matter that they weren’t actually having sex. Her blood pounded and her body throbbed until she could hardly breathe.
She heaved up, trying to toss him off her. His forearm slipped slightly, and she redoubled her efforts.
“I’m…going to…win. I want…all of you,” he grunted.
Straining just as hard, she retorted, “You…make me…sound like…a bowl of…ice cream.”
“No ice cream…is going to…taste as…sweet…as you,” he answered through clenched teeth.
She finally yanked her right arm free from where it had been trapped beneath her and wedged her own elbow under his chin. She pushed for all she was worth. He shifted his hold, entangling their arms as they struggled for purchase, she to toss him off, and he to subdue her once more. Her biceps began to fatigue. Burned under the strain of holding him off. Then trembled under it.
Millimeter by millimeter, Anders pushed her arm aside. His free arm rested on the floor beside her, nestled intimately against the side of her breast. Ever so slowly, he was forcing her right arm down to her side, approaching completing a bear hug on her ribcage that would finally immobilize her. She had no doubt he was strong enough to prevent her ribs from expanding enough for her to breathe.
His grasp wrapped more tightly around her. She flailed back and forth, but his superior body weight was to his advantage. He spread his legs wide, tripod fashion, and used them to prevent her from rolling over. Damn, he was strong!
Too winded for wordplay now, they grappled in silence.
And ever so slowly, he got the best of her. How long it took, she had no idea. But eventually, blessedly, he forced her arms down to her sides. His own arms wrapped tightly around her upper torso. He planted one leg wide on either side of her body, his powerful skier’s legs making it impossible for her to roll out from under him. His face was inches from hers, his eyes glowing with victory—and sexual anticipation that stole away what little breath she could draw in his iron grasp.
“Ready to surrender?” he gritted out from between his clenched teeth.
She looked up into his beautiful, blazing eyes. Time stood still around them as they strained against one another, nearly identically matched adversaries. Nearly. All her major muscle groups were near their limit. And for once, the trembling fatigue and burning pain felt amazing.
She’d done it. She’d found a man she couldn’t beat. At least, not every time. And that was good enough for her.
She smiled up at him brilliantly. “Uncle.”