“All right,” she said. But she didn’t move, looking at the speck of gray she’d seen earlier. It was moving closer. At first she thought it was a bear or deer perhaps. Then she realized it was a man dressed in full snow camouflage gear running toward them.
One of the agents from MIDNIGHT? Had Jake come through for her after all? Suddenly it dawned on her that if the thug straightened and looked behind him, whomever was approaching would be dead in a fraction of a second. She needed to distract her captor.
“I…I think I sprained my ankle,” she blurted.
The man glared at her. “Do I look like I care? Get up and walk or I’m going to drag you.”
Leigh feigned difficulty rising. The thought of rescue made her almost giddy with hope. But the situation could still explode into violence any moment.
When the thug grasped her hair, she cried out in pain. “I said get up!”
She stumbled to her feet, the man’s fingers digging into her arm, forcing her to walk.
“I think I’m going to faint,” she said.
But her words were too late. He’d looked over his shoulder, squinting through the heavy snowfall. He spotted the person approaching, and froze.
He dropped to one knee, brought up the rifle and took aim. Leigh did the only thing she could, and rammed him with her shoulder. A gunshot shattered the silence.
“Bitch!” he snarled, butting her with the rifle and sending her flying backward into the snow.
As if in slow motion she saw the man bring up the rifle, set the scope to his eye and take aim at the figure in the distance.
“No!” she yelled, getting to her feet.
A gunshot rent the air, and the thug clutched his chest, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. The rifle fell to the ground. Blood leaked between his fingers. Then he was falling forward…
Not sure who the figure in the distance was, Leigh began to run blindly through the snow, sobbing and choking. Then a hand slapped over her mouth, and the next thing she knew she was being tackled to the ground. She braced for the impact, but at the last minute her attacker twisted and she landed on top of him.
“Easy, honey. It’s Jake. You’re safe.”
Relief rushed through her with such force that she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think. All she could do was feel his body, solid and sure against her. Then she remembered that Rasmussen and at least two other men were waiting for them. That they planned to kill her. And if she and Jake wanted to live, they were going to have to act quickly.
Chapter Nineteen
Jake had never considered himself an emotional man. But even after ascertaining that Leigh was unhurt, he couldn’t stop touching her.
She was trying to speak, but he kissed her. Not a sexual kiss, but a kiss that spoke of something much deeper, much more profound.
“We have to stop Rasmussen,” she panted.
“I need to get you to safety,” he said. “That’s all that matters.”
Taking her arm, he guided her back to where the thug had fallen. He went through the man’s pockets. When he found the handcuff key, he turned her around and unlocked one of the cuffs.
After he did, she flung her arms around him, and for several emotional minutes he did nothing but hold her and stroke her and whisper her name.
“He didn’t hurt you?” Jake asked.
“No.” She bit her lip. “What about Madrid?”
Jake grimaced. “He’s down. Medivac’s on the way.” If the weather holds, he thought.
“Let’s go.” Careful to be gentle with her, he guided her in the general direction of the cabin, but she dug in her heels and stopped.
“No.” Shaking off his grip, Leigh stopped and turned to face him. “We can’t let him get away.”
“I don’t care about Rasmussen,” Jake said. “All I care about is you.” He only wished he’d said those words six years ago.
She blinked back tears. “Jake, we have to stop him. We can’t let him get away with what he’s done.”
“I’m not going to risk your getting hurt.”
“I’m your only hope of stopping him.” She pointed at the swirling white expanse of the lake. “He’s out there, waiting for his thug to return with me. There’s a chopper waiting. He’s going to kill me and flee the country.”
“No,” he said.
She got in his face. “Jake, we have to do this.”
“I did it six years ago and I’ve regretted it ever since!”
“You did the right thing!” she shouted back.
Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Couldn’t believe what he was feeling. He’d never forgiven himself for not stopping her six years ago. Now she wanted to do the same thing all over again. Only, this time she knew fully that Rasmussen planned to kill her.
“If we don’t do this, we may as well hand our fu tures to Rasmussen. Let me tell you something, Jake. I’m not going to do it. I’m sick of having to move every six months. Never living in any one place long enough to make friends.”
“We have each other.” But he knew it was a weak rationalization.
“He’ll go after your family,” she said. “Your fellow agents.”