Shadow Hawk

Later that night Twentyfive miles outside of Bullet City, WyomingABBY ENTERED THE COMMUNICATIONS van, and the men stopped talking. Typical. Men complained that women were the difficult gender, but it seemed to her the peniscarrying half were far more thorny. Not to mention downright problematic. Not that she cared, because when it came to personal relationships, she'd given them up. A fact that made her life much simpler. Sliding the door shut behind her, she shivered. Late fall in the high altitude Bighorn Mountains meant that razorsharp air cut right through her, layers and all. As she rubbed her frozen hands together, her gaze inadvertently locked on Hawk, who had his longsleeved black shirt open and the matching Tshirt beneath it shoved up so that he could get wired. He stood there, six feet two inches of solid badass complete with a wicked, mischievous grin, topped with warm, chocolate eyes that could melt or freeze on a dime. From beneath the sleeve of his Tshirt peeked the very edge of the tattoo on his bicep, which she knew was a hawk. The women in the office practically swooned at it, every time. But not Abby. Nope, she was made of firmer stuff. There was a fourinch scar, old and nearly faded, along his left side between two ribs, and another puckered scar above his left pec. The first was a knife wound, the second a bullet hole. She could also see his smooth, sleek flesh pressed taut to hard, rippled sinew. One long, lean muscle, not an ounce of extra on him. Whew.Had she been cold only a moment before? Because suddenly, she was starting to sweat. She cursed her 20/20 vision. Maybe she wasn't made of firmer stuff after all.... But regardless, she was over men.Soover men. And seeing that she'd become so enlightened...she blew out a breath and moved to her communications station. Where for the first time, she hesitated. That in itself pissed her off. So a year ago she'd nearly died out in the field. She hadn't.And she wasn't going to this time, either. Shrugging off her nerves, Abby looked around and caught the long, assessing look Hawk shot her as he pulled on a flak vest. He was sharp, she'd give him that. Clearly, he sensed her hesitation, but hell if she'd let him see her sweat. She lifted her chin and sat down. But if she was a good actress, then he was a great actor, because she had no idea what he was thinking behind that perpetually cynical gaze. And she didn't care. She was here for the job. She would remain in the van, in charge of communications, while the team made their way to the farmhouse, and then to the barn a half mile beyond that, where they'd execute the raid. "There," Watkins said to Hawk as he finished wiring him. Hawk shrugged back into his shirt. "You fix the problem from the other day?" he asked. Abby's eyes had wandered again to Hawk's bodybad eyesbut her ears pricked. "Problem?" "Bad wire." Watkins lifted a shoulder. "Happens." "It shouldn't," she said. "Make sure it doesn't." Watkins nodded. Hawk let his Tshirt fall over his abs, hiding the wires as his gaze again met hers. One eyebrow arched in the silent question:Were you staring at me? No.No, she wasn't. To prove it, she turned to her own equipment, trying not to remember the last time she'd been wired before a raid. Elliot Gaines, the head honcho, had done her up himself. Of course he'd had a personal interest. They'd had a burgeoning friendship, at least on her part. For his part, he clearly wished for more, far more. In any case, he couldn't have known how bad it would all go.... And it had gone extremely bad. One minute she'd been listening to Gaines's quiet, authoritative voice in her ear, telling her she was doing great, just to holdShalvis, Jill is the author of 'Shadow Hawk ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373793334 and ISBN 0373793332.