Her chin rising, Amy held his eyes firmly, which would have been admirable if her penchant for stubbornness wasn’t so damn infuriating.
“Look, Mackenzie. Clay’s a federal law enforcement agent and you and your men are at the top of every agency’s BOLO. You’re probably at the top of the bureau’s most wanted list by now. If he sees you, any of you, he’ll try to arrest you, that’s his job. It just makes sense that Lieutenant Simcosky should provide cover from the ridge, while Jude—who isn’t on a watch list—backs me up on the ground.”
Her arguments made sense. Except having Jude and Cos swap places left her under the care of a virtual stranger. A stranger whose competence was in question considering his lack of a field kit.
“Cosky stays,” Mac said. “End of discussion.”
“Mackenzie—”
“It’s Mac.” Where the fuck had that come from? He didn’t care what the hell she called him. Suddenly off balance, he scrambled to get his head back in the argument. “Cosky wasn’t at the lab. He won’t be on any BOLOs.”
Looking more determined than ever, Amy set her jaw. “He’s a known associate of yours. Clay will haul him in for questioning.”
Cosky smiled. “He can try.”
Amy blew out a frustrated breath, which locked Mac’s attention on her pink, unpainted lips.
Sonofabitch. He wrenched his gaze away.
“I’m just trying to make this as easy as possible on the three of you. Having Clay hound you is only going to increase tensions.”
Another fair point, which Mac ignored. No way in hell was he trusting her life to a stranger. He turned to Zane. “I’ll take north, you take east.” He shot a hard glance at Jude. “That leaves you with the west ridge.”
“I’m telling you this is a mistake. If Clay sees Cosky, he’ll know the rest of you are here too.” Amy’s voice shed its patience and climbed into robust irritation.
Mac grunted an acknowledgment, mostly because he knew the response would annoy her as much as her constant questioning of his orders irritated him.
“Fine.” Blowing out another frustrated breath, she shimmied her shoulders and squared her stance, which cast a faint jiggle across her high, firm rack.
Mac’s attention splintered between her lips and her chest. His skin tightened. So did his crotch. His lungs sped up, trying to keep pace with his accelerating heart. Just fucking perfect. It wouldn’t be long before his men questioned why he was wheezing before the action even hit. There was a time and place for arousal and it sure as hell wasn’t on the cusp of a mission in the middle of a crowd.
He should give some serious thought to getting the old boy neutered.
Shifting the MK20 sniper rifle and the MP5SD submachine—two of the weapons he’d handpicked from the compound’s arsenal—until they hung against his back, rather than his side, he caught Amy’s eye.
“Wait until we’ve tested your gear before calling your brother,” he reiterated.
Her lips tightened, but she nodded an acknowledgment.
With one last glance down the rutted dirt road, he struck out for the north ridge. At least the steep climb would give his libido something besides Amy to focus on. It was hard to maintain an erection when strenuous activity required a constant flow of blood to the brain, heart, and lungs. Not to mention the arms and legs.
By the time he reached the small stand of maple trees he’d chosen for camouflage, he was panting harder than ever. A sad commentary on his naval career. Somehow, through the years, he’d become nothing more than a desk jockey. Since his heart was pounding hard enough to interfere with his breathing, he waited a few seconds for his circulatory system to recover.
“Alpha one, copy.” Zane’s calm, cool voice came over Mac’s headset.
Mac grimaced at the lack of breathlessness in his LC’s voice. Definitely time to start using the base gym again.
“Alpha one in position.” Mac carefully regulated his breathing. “Alpha three?”
“Copy,” Cosky said.
“Alpha four?” Mac dragged the sniper rifle over his head and aimed the scope toward the west ridge, but there was no sign of Wolf’s warrior.
“In position.” Jude’s measured voice came over the air.
“Amy?” Mac asked.
Fuck, was it his imagination, or had his voice actually softened over her name? He tried to convince himself the unusual bout of gentleness was simply a latent round of that earlier, frustrating breathlessness.
“I hear you loud and clear, Mackenzie.”
Amy’s voice flowed smoothly through his headset. In stark comparison to his query, her voice was cold and flat and bristling with irritation. Apparently she hadn’t shed her annoyance over their earlier tussle.