The hand lifted away from her mouth.
She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of camouflage fabric and a tactical vest. American, definitely. But that could mean CIA, Special Forces, private contractor, or something else entirely.
The voices were nearly upon them.
She took another look at him. He wore a hat, his face darkened with paint.
But wait . . . No, it couldn’t be. . . What?
“Skeet?”
He should have known this wouldn’t be easy, given the fact that the woman lived for danger.
Her voice carried clearly through the jungle, and he lunged forward, clamping his hand back over her mouth.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” he hissed in her ear, pulling her back against his chest. The Burmese voices grew closer through the canopy.
She bit his finger.
“Ow!” He jerked his hand away, shaking it. “Really?”
“Don’t grab me,” she growled, but at least she was keeping her voice down now. “And don’t sneak up on people in war zones.”
“Noted,” he muttered, pressing them both lower behind the fallen log as boots splashed through the stream nearby. The patrol was close—close enough that he could hear their rapid Burmese.
They both went perfectly still, hardly breathing as the soldiers moved parallel to their position. Twenty meters away, maybe less. Chloe’s blonde hair was pressed against his shoulder, and he could feel the tension radiating from her frame.
The voices faded as the patrol moved deeper into the jungle. Skeet waited another thirty seconds before releasing the breath he’d been holding.
“Well,” he said softly, “that was fun. Nothing like a little near-death experience to start the day.”
“Skeet?” Her voice held surprise and something that might have been relief. She turned slowly, blue eyes widening as they took in his suppressed rifle. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, hello to you too, sunshine.” He flashed her a grin despite their precarious situation. “Just thought I’d drop by for the scenic jungle tour. Heard the artillery was particularly lovely this time of year.”
Her eyebrows shot up at that, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, maybe, now that she knew who had grabbed her. “I didn’t ask for rescue.”
“Lucky for you, I was in the neighborhood anyway.” He watched the patrol move deeper into the jungle before standing and offering her a hand up with an exaggerated bow. “Time to go.”
She ignored his hand, pushing herself to her feet. “Let me guess—Jake put Hamilton up to this.”
“Actually... Okay, maybe.” Skeet noted how she moved—competent, alert. She’d always been a looker, but the fact was, she sort of intimidated him with her self-confidence. He preferred a woman to need him a little.
Chloe Silver lived her life on her own terms. And he got that, really.
He didn’t need anyone complicating his life either.
“Figured somebody ought to keep an eye on you before you accidentally start World War Three.”
“I need these plants.” She started to gather the leaves that were scattered at her feet. “Dr. Tobias is dying.”
He gestured toward the jungle where the soldiers’ voices had faded. “And you’re gonna be joining whoever that is if we don’t get moving.”
“I’m not going anywhere without?—”
A figure melted out of the jungle behind her, and Chloe tensed.
“This is Chai. He’s with me.”