Free Hard Target by Barbara Phinney Page B

snow. Three years at an Arctic military base would give her an intimate knowledge of cold and snow.
    He straightened. The military had wasted her talents on that northern posting.
    He should never have tried to make love to her.
    Turning off the main road and slowing to a crawl as she entered the village, Dawna cut into his thoughts, "Cabanelos said to meet him at the church."
    Tay scanned the quiet streets. They were early, and the sun still sat above the white-capped mountains, not yet hidden by the rain-laden clouds. Ahead, a small boy herded a few skinny goats down the narrow street. There didn't appear to be any electricity up here, and Tay caught sight of a traditionally dressed woman hurrying into a house, a child wrapped in a colorful blanket that was tied around her shoulders.  
    The street narrowed. Instantly, Tay's defensive instincts kicked in. He didn't like the idea of being penned in. His glance at Dawna told him that she seemed unconcerned by the close quarters.
    The street widened into a small square. To their left stood the church. Words painted at one corner of the front facade pointed the way to the 'Santa Maria de Immaculada .' Probably the convent that the ambassador had mentioned. Beyond the village and hanging onto the side of the mountain amidst terraced fields, were several large buildings in a similar Spanish style. The convent, Tay presumed.
    Dawna swung the car around and parked it in the shadowed side of a larger home, sending a small flock of chickens scattering like mice. Tay's door was closer to the center of the courtyard. He nodded to himself. He would have told her to park like this. He could protect her better. If Cabanelos started shooting, the driver needed to be safe.
    Tay glanced at his watch. Five-thirty. "I'd rather not sit and wait."
    "Do you want to tour the village?" Dawna asked dryly.
    "No. I just don't care to sit in the open waiting for a sniper to appear." He matched her sarcasm with his own. Continually scanning the irregular straw and clay rooftops of the buildings surrounding the church, Tay held back the urge to pull his sidearm from his holster.
    He didn't need to. Along with Dawna's cell phone, she'd placed her fully loaded nine-mil Browning on the seat beside them. At the ready. He knew she had a round up the spout, too, even though the safety was on.
    They lapsed into another long, painful silence. Dawna shifted to undo her seat belt. Here they go again. Enclosed in a staff car, their bodies inches away from each other.
    His lungs hurt and he coughed again. The tension tightened his gut.
    The memory of their first time in a staff car together, and all they'd done, hummed like a plucked wire between them.
    The urge to grab her swelled in him. He wanted to drag her over to him, finish and savor the feeling that had eluded and yet haunted him for three, long years.
    His body's reaction was immediate. Tay shifted to relieve the pressure. "Dawna-"
    She cut him off. "Cabanelos is late."
    "He'll be here." Whoa, boy . Focus on your damn work, Hastings.
    What the hell was he going to say? That he wanted to spend the time waiting for a sniper by making love to her? The sheer insanity of the desire made him smile, but the grin was brief. He had to focus on the present, not linger on what might have happened if the CO hadn't caught them and ordered Dawna home in a taxi, with cold instructions to report back to him at oh-seven-hundred hours the next morning.
    "If Cabanelos doesn't show up soon, I'll call the ambassador." Dawna peered up at the clouding sky above the windshield, then picked up her phone. "I hope I don't lose service up here."
    He leaned over to look at it. "You haven't yet. Be patient." Yeah, fine words, when impatience danced inside of him. Cabanelos could be out there, hovering in one of the adobe houses or tucked in along the erratic lines of tiled roof of the church, waiting for them to turn edgy and climb out. This vehicle might withstand a small rocket