SIENNA SAT ON a quiet spot overlooking the lake several hours after nightfall. It had shocked her when Judd told her about the upcoming op—but not because she couldn’t do it. The exercise would be relatively free from danger given the strength of her shields and the fact that she could debilitate anyone who threatened her. Of course, contact was to be avoided at all costs, their objective being to get in and out without being detected.
Soft warmth covered her shoulders.
Startled, she turned to see Hawke. It was his jacket he’d put over her shoulders. “We didn’t get to play our game.” The part of her that had never had a chance to be a child was bitterly disappointed.
He sat down with one hand braced on the ground behind her, their bodies close enough that they touched hip to thigh . . . more. “It’ll keep.”
Unwilling to let it go at that, she held out a fist. “Ready?”
“You’re going to attempt to beat me up with that puny hand?” Complete disbelief. “Okay, I’ll pretend it hurts.”
She would not laugh. To do so would only feed his arrogance. “Try again.”
Frowning, he held out his own larger fist, smiled. “One, two, three!”
“Rock beats scissors.” It was impossible to restrain her smirk.
A very wolfish look. “Best of three.”
She held out a hand, called the countdown. Found her paper being cut by the scissors. Laughing at the playful way he pretended to chop at her, she made a fist again. “Last one.”
They moved their hands in unison.
Hawke grinned at the result. “Well, there are people who say we both have rocks in our heads, so I guess that’s apropos.”
“Speak for yourself.” But she curled her hand back inside his jacket, luxuriating in the dark masculinity of his scent. “Judd told me about South America.” A silent question hidden behind the statement.
“We need to discuss that.” No longer any humor in his voice. “I need to be certain you’re not only onboard with this, but capable of doing it.”
The words pricked her pride. Once, she might’ve snapped at him, but she was no longer that impetuous girl, hiding her mental fragmentation behind a mask of rebellion. Instead, she considered things from his point of view: a young, untried soldier going into an operation that required the utmost subtlety. If she’d been in charge, she’d have asked the same questions. “Yes, to both,” she said. “Judd didn’t know until I told him this afternoon, but I did an op very similar to this in a training situation.”
He stroked his hand up her back to curve around her nape, hot and strong, a shock to her system. “How old were you?”
“Fifteen,” she said over the wild rush of sensation. “Ming gave me a very simple brief—to get in and out of one of his installations. To pass, I had to set a number of charges in different locations and escape undetected.” When Hawke remained silent, she asked, “Don’t you want to know if I succeeded?”
He moved his thumb on her skin. “You wouldn’t have remained Ming’s protégée if you hadn’t.”
“Yes.” Goose bumps on her flesh that had nothing to do with the temperature. “But I did make one error—I escaped even Ming’s detection.”
Rising without warning, Hawke took a seat behind her, pulling her into the circle of his arms, the bracket of his thighs. “Okay?” An intimate question against the sensitive curve of her ear.
“Yes.” Except for the fact her heart was about to beat right out of her chest.
“The student showed up the teacher,” he said, returning to their discussion of Ming. “That’s when you knew you didn’t have much time left.”
Unable to resist, she curled one of her hands around the corded strength of his forearm, playing her fingers over the vein that ran so strong under the heat of his skin. “The rehab order came only a few months later. All orders are officially from the entire Council, but the Councilors act as individuals most of the time. Ming’s signature was on ours. If he ever finds out I’m alive, he’ll do everything he can to get rid of me.”
“I don’t know.” Muscle and tendon flexed under her touch as he tugged her closer. “According to our intel, Ming has taken a couple of hits in the past few months. He might decide he’s better off with you by his side.”
“I’d kill him,” Sienna said with cold precision. “The instant I had him in my sights, I’d burn him up and watch him die. And I’d make it slow, so he’d hurt for a long time.”
Hawke didn’t tell her that wasn’t a good thought, that revenge would eat her alive. Instead, he nuzzled at her neck, and said, “I’d rather you focus your energy on helping the pack.”
She angled her head to the side in shameless invitation, her hand moving up to close over his bicep. “I’d do anything for SnowDancer.” For you.
“Tell me about your designation.” Kisses along the line of her throat.
Her toes curled. “What do you want to know?”