Page 30 of Hot & Heavy

Fourth, she continued to call them all trolls. At first, he had thought she meant that they—he, in particular

—behaved like trolls. But he was beginning to think she believed they were actual trolls… part of some troll society or something. G eeesh! Which must mean she was a mental case.

Fifth, it was hard to tell under all that grime, but Ian did not think she was Arab. At least, she didn't look like any Arab woman he'd ever seen. Not that he was an expert on such things. But Omar had remarked on the same thing.

They were still waiting for final orders from CentCom, although he'd spoken to his contact several times since leaving the tango site. Cage and Omar had gone back to relieve JAM and Geek. After taking a short nap, JAM came out to relieve him from guard duty outside the cave. Coming inside, he saw that Yasmine was still talking with Geek and Pretty Boy in her stilted English. He might not be sure if she was Arab, but it was clear that English was not her first language.

"Tell me again why you need to get to Baghdad, darlin'?" Pretty Boy lay on his side in front of the fire with his head propped on a braced elbow.

Yasmine, from the opposite side of the fire, sat on crossed legs. "Do not call me dearling. I am not your dearling."

"Sorry," Pretty Boy said with a smile that said he couldn't care less if she objected to his endearment, which he didn't mean anyhow.

"In Baghdad, I might be able to find a ship traveling to my homeland. Once there, my people will give me aid."

"Where is your homeland?" Geek asked. He looked up from the mini-laptop he was studying with logistical information about their mission.

"Norsemandy," Yasmine said.

"I thought you said you were from Russia," Ian said.

Yasmine jumped, not having realized he'd come up behind her. "Must you always sneak about like a… a

…"

"Troll?" he inquired.

"Yea, a troll."

"Normandy, huh?"

Under all that dirt on her cheeks, he detected a blush.

She was lying through her teeth. "What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive," he remarked, almost to himself.

Her response was to raise her chin haughtily. "What matters it to you where I go once you take me to Baghdad?"

"Uh… about Baghdad," he started, easing down to his haunches beside her.

"What?" She was immediately alert.

"There's been a change in our original plans. We expect to have an additional person on our flight back.

And our extraction site might have to be closer to the terrorist hideout. There's a chance we will have to leave you behind."

She gasped in outrage, then turned and shoved him backward. Climbing over him, she began to pummel his chest and face. "You… will… not… abandon… me," she shrieked, punctuating each word with a punch.

He put his hands over his face, laughing. Geek and Pretty Boy were laughing, too. "You hit like a girl," he accused her, which was a silly thing to say.

"A girl, you say?" Rising up on her hands, she hit him in the balls with her right knee. "Do I kick like a girl, too?"

He saw stars before he rose to his full six-foot-four and glared down at her. He barely restrained himself from cupping himself to ease the pain. "If that's the way you try to get your way, no wonder you're lost in the middle of camel nowhere. Big mistake, sweetheart!" With those words, he picked up his backpack and walked down the back corridor of the tunnel. Throwing it to the ground, he lay down, facing the wall. He was so angry he probably wouldn't be able to sleep, and he needed all the rest he could get before they started out again.

He sensed her following him before he actually heard her.

"I am sorry," she said, standing at his back.

"Go away."