Page 24 of Stolen

Chapter 12

Despite the extra protection—or maybe because of it—Ariana couldn’t sleep. She’d been able to feel Hawk’s restlessness earlier, but he had a soldier’s way of grabbing what sleep he could, when he could, and now he was out.

She wished with all her heart that she could go to his room and crawl in beside him. Nestle safe into his arms, and perhaps even lose themselves in lovemaking, to hold the nightmares at bay. But it wasn’t fair to him.

He’d sacrificed enough of his life to get her out of South America, to watch over her here while she recovered, to keep her safe.

Safe from what was coming.

She couldn’t tie him to her with the kind of bond her wolf wanted. He wasn’t the type of man to settle down.

This life, this town, would be exactly what she wanted, but it wasn’t what he did.

He was a soldier. A warrior.

Her wolf said, he is a protector. That is different.

Maybe.

Finally, she got up to see if a cup of tea would help her sleep.

Light spilled out the open doorway of Boomer’s room, and as she passed by she saw him sitting at a table filled with wires and bits and components, immersed in what he was doing.

That must mean it was his brother’s turn on watch.

Sure enough, when she looked outside, Boomer’s brother was leaning against the garden wall, looking out into the night.

Before going to the kitchen, she hesitated for a moment, then went to Boomer’s room and knocked softly on the open door, even though he no doubt had been aware of her since she left her bed. He certainly wasn’t startled at her knock. “Hey,” he said, not looking up from what he was doing.

“Don’t you sleep, when your brother is on watch?” she asked.

“Sometimes. Usually not. Can’t sleep.”

“Me either. Would you like a beer? Or a sandwich?”

That did startle him, as if he wasn’t used to people offering to do things for him. He looked up, his intense green eyes wide. After a second he said, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

Ariana went to the kitchen and put on water for tea. There was a plate of sandwiches in the refrigerator, wrapped in plastic, which made her smile. Hawk always went to bed after she did, and he always left her food in case she was hungry in the night. He was a good man.

She ate half a sandwich while the water heated, then transferred two more onto another plate.

She made her tea, then grabbed a beer bottle by the neck, managing to juggle it along with the plate of sandwiches, and took it all back to Boomer’s room.

Oddly, he seemed awkward when it was just the two of them, as though his smart-ass attitude was a cover for deep discomfort with humanity. Or perhaps, only the female half.

Ariana leaned against the wall, sipping her tea, while Boomer opened his beer and wolfed down a sandwich. “What are you making?” she asked.

“A bomb.” It came out garbled, and he swallowed his bite. “We’re going to need them when the cartel shows up. Don’t worry, though,” he added hastily, correctly interpreting her expression. “I’m using plastic explosives. C-4. It’s very stable. It won’t go off accidentally.”

“Really?” She looked down at the mess of components on the table, wishing she’d been taught to do something useful in her life. Even making bombs. “Is it difficult?”

Boomer stared at her. “You grew up in a cartel and you don’t know how to make a bomb?” He shook his head. “Pathetic.”

The attitude was back. She felt absurdly glad about that. “It was a very sexist cartel,” she said in a serious voice. “The girls weren’t allowed to blow anything up.”

That got half a grin. “That’s just wrong. I can show you, if you want. It’s fun.”

She smiled at him. “I’d actually like that, one day. But I’m very tired now, and I think it’s not a good idea to play with explosives when one is very tired. Even if they are stable. Perhaps tomorrow?”