She jumped up. The world spun round like a toy top. The dark mountain and inky sky blurred. The fire in the distance became her focal point, and she blinked hard.

Both her attackers came at her, their hands up and their faces angry. They hurled threats she couldn't understand. But she comprehended.

An explosion ripped through the air behind them. Rapid blips of gunfire lit the distance. Gas bombs catapulted, flipping and zigzagging into the tents.

The timing couldn't have been better. Someone needed to tear this place down, and she needed the distraction. The men forgot about their conquest-in-waiting and ran back toward camp.

Asal.

Sugar rotated a glance over her horizon for the little girl, but she came up empty. A fire bomb boomed, and she needed cover. Running toward a rocky ledge, Sugar snagged an automatic rifle propped against a boulder. She swiped as much ammo on the fly as she could carry, then climbed into the thick mountain brush. Thorns scraped her skin but didn't slow her down.

Behind her back, artillery detonated. Her captors hadn't been ready for an offensive strike. Sugar turned from her perch on a sturdy inlet. Was this a rival tribe attack? Was this military? She couldn't tell through the smoke.

Men scattered, fleeing the main camp, and one by one, the tents were ransacked and brought down. Cries of pain accompanied screams of defiance. The offense was on a search-and-destroy mission. Like a tiny town swallowing itself, the area was consumed.

Then all was quiet.

Objective met?

What was that? she wondered. As long as they didn't bother her, Sugar didn't care. And where was Asal? Sugar would find that blade-gifting girl and get her the hell out of this mountainous crapshoot. That kiddo isn't marrying some sick fuck. No way.

Through the billowing clouds in the fire-lit night, Sugar couldn't see much. Somewhere, a goat bleated, and someone shuffled through tents. Must've been a rival tribe attack. There was looting. As long as Asal was safe, they could hunt and gather all night long.

A branch cracked. The hair on her arms stood up, as if on lookout. Her breath stilled, her mind listening, hoping to hear nothing.

Nothing. Not a peep. Too quiet. But wasn't that what she wanted?

Someone was near. A shiver of awareness said so. Or was that paranoia? Dehydration could do that. Men threatening to rape her could do that.

Trust your instinct.

She closed her eyes and forced her senses to attention. Smoke burned in her nostrils and coated her tongue. The harsh wind bit her cheeks and... carried footsteps. Closer. Close enough that she had to move.

Sugar crouched, then crawled down the narrowing rock path, which became a brush-covered ledge. Loose stones slipped away, cascading off the side of her foothold. Not good. Shadows danced far below the sharp drop-off. She positioned forward, aiming the AR-15 for whatever came her way. As long as it wasn't a little girl, it was dying.

Another crack. Branches scraped beside her. Above her?

She couldn't get a bearing on the source. The camp activity echoed against the mountain. It was too distracting, and she was too panicked. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and blood pounded in her throat.

Another gust of wind carried the sound of shifting fabric. Her skin prickled. A solid force dropped on top of her, knocking her rifle from her reach, holding her to the ground. A hand wrapped over her mouth, twisting her body against her attacker's.

Her stolen breath was knocked away. Instinct took over the fight. Her knee went up, and her fists punched, then clawed. Eyes. Groin. If she could hit either, her chances increased. All she sensed was strength and power. That wasn't going to take her down. She would fight until she died.

No! Not die. Survive. She centered, assessed, and jerked back her head, connecting with a jawbone.

A grunt of pain followed. A minute win. She turned and- "Sugar."

The harsh whisper stopped her, stunning her, and she began trembling the instant she registered the deep timbre.

"Stop."

She pinched her eyes closed. This was a delusion or a nightmare. But her body stilled as pinpricks of awareness popped, and her mind galloped after logic.

Strong hands turned her and forced her eyes open. Tactical gear. Night vision goggles. Blood dripping off his chin.

She didn't need to see his face. The confirmation was innate. Instinctive. Jared Westin had found her. Saved her. Another round of shivers spiked down her spine.

"We gotta go." He stood, pulling her up and wrapping her to his chest, then backed down the incline.

Her shock wore away. Heated embarrassment took its place. She had run away from him, only to have him come across the globe, guns ablaze. Only goddamn Jared Westin could pull a stunt like this, the prick.

Ignoring the all-consuming need to cling to his chest and sob her thanks, she pushed back from his hold, but her head spun. "I can walk." Maybe.

Adrenaline made her strong. Emotions and dehydration made her irrationally determined. He didn't let go, just kept moving them down the side of the mountain, toward the decimated tent village.

Where is Asal? "Jared, stop."

He ignored her. She became dead weight. That didn't stop him, though. He lifted her with one arm and kept on.

"Wait." She struggled against his body-armored chest. "Wait. There's someone else."

That put on the brakes. He pulled them against the rocks and took off his goggles. "There were three of you?"

He looked pissed. Welcome to the club, buddy.

"No-"

"GSI? POW? What?"

"Her name is-"

"Her?" His eyes darted over her shoulder, watchful and protective. "Not here to sort out the local bullshit."

Of course the her would be a local, because women didn't come here. Fury built in her chest. He grabbed her to move on, but Sugar rocked against his grip, struggling to free herself. "A girl. A child. Put me down, goddamn you."

He stilled but didn't let go.

"She's a kid. And if you didn't kill her, she's alone on the side of this mountain 'cause you killed everyone else."

"My mission's to bring you home, Sugar. We'll deal with the GSI crap later. So shut up and-"

"Then leave me. She's a goddamn kid. Scared out of her mind. Find her or leave me. I didn't ask you to come get me, and I sure don't need this bullshit." She knocked him in the chest, hurting her cold, numb knuckles. "Give me a gun and go away."

He tightened his grip on her. "I don't know who the hell you think you are. Look the hell around. You'll die or be captured again. Raped. Sold. Killed. That's your future-"

"Same with that kid. Except she's eight." Sugar tried to swallow. "Just a baby."

Fires exploded around them. The temperature was falling quickly. Clouds of their breaths burned between them. He locked eyes with her, making her stomach catapult. Her mind pleaded that he was more than a machine. His stare broke away, skittering over the barren rockscape. Nothing could live out there in the elements, certainly not a kid. He had to see that.

His dark eyes, bright and furious, stole back to her. She would have held her breath if the anticipation hadn't already put her lungs on strike. "The girl snuck me a knife. It was my only chance, and it worked. Now we're hers. I owe her."

Jared reached for his mic and barked. "Hands on the package. One more to pick up. Repeat, one more to grab. Give me eyes on the outskirts." He paused, studying Sugar. "We're looking for a small girl, boys. Easy with the takedown."

Warmth bled down her neck and into her chest. The bastard may have had a sliver of a heart after all.

CHAPTER FIVE.

Jared pinched the bridge of his nose. The side of a cliff with Sugar, who was pulling the unwilling-evacuee act, wasn't the best place for a negotiation. She knew it. He knew it. But she was holding the aces when she dropped intel about abandoned kids on war-torn mountainsides. It was enough to make him revisit his extraction plan.

His team, clad in heat-seeking goggles, was on an efficient but gentle manhunt for a child. Great.

Around Sugar, plans never worked out, including his current one to stay huddled in a cave until the kid was found. He hoped she was alive when they found her, but he wasn't holding his breath. Sugar was attached to the child. This had the potential to be a shit storm.

He checked in with the men, who had nothing to report. In another thirty minutes, he would have to call off this rooster run. Sugar wouldn't take that well. He wiped a hand over his face, then eyed her in the dark. She obviously wasn't happy to have a helping hand, and she shivered in silence.

After pulling off his top layer, he pushed it toward her. "Take this." Her eyes flashed angrily. What the hell was her problem? "Take it, goddamn it. You're freezing."

At home, she wore skintight leather pants and T-shirts that might've been painted on. Her dark hair was always tousled. Her midnight-blue eyes danced, always laughing. But right then, her clothes were tactical and tattered. She looked pale and exhausted.

A pang of concern pushed against his chest. He'd always been protective of his team and of those loyal to him. And even as pissed off as she was at him-and God only knew why-Jared wanted to do more than the usual. He wanted to protect her from the elements, from the Taliban, and from whatever the fallout would be from the ongoing manhunt for a likely never-to-be-seen-again child.

Her e-mail, which he still had tucked in his back pocket, was on his mind. It bounced around with confused ideas of Sugar as an ATF agent and as an operative who'd been trapped and left behind by her GSI partner, then by Titan. Jared struggled with that identity and reality, as well as his awareness that he was interested in her in a way that differed from his concern for other women. Other women he fucked, but fucking Sugar would mess up everything. She was a cool chick one day and a pain in his ass the next.

She'd always been a pain in the ass-like she was right then. "Sugar, take my damn shirt. Exposure isn't taking you out on my watch."

She snagged it and pulled it over her knotted hair. She raised her eyebrows and threw him a tight nod. That was it. Hell, what did I expect? Her to say thanks? He chuckled. Not a chance.

"What's so funny?" She tilted her head, and her voice sounded stronger than he'd expected.

Never expect anything with this one. "I've been to this mountain twice in a week. Of all the places I've had to double-hit, this wouldn't be on my list."

Her eyebrows came crashing down in a line that crinkled above her nose. "That was you before?"

"Sure was, baby cakes."

"Screw you, Jared."

He laughed again and wondered if their bickering was a game or a defense. "Mind telling me why you're pissed at me for saving your stubborn ass?"

Even without daylight, her midnight eyes shone as though they were unaware of the elements. If she shivered again, it would take strong will more than training to keep from holding her. Then again, transferring heat body to body was operating procedure under certain circumstances.

She shivered.

If the air were a few degrees colder, he could make the argument that they had fallen under those certain circumstances. "Look, Sugar. Didn't know you were here before. So forgive me. Okay? We better now?"

She didn't look at him. "I didn't want you here."

"Because you had everything so under control here? Christ."

"Jared, you're a dick." She tried to elbow her exit. Hard. Where did she think she was going? He gripped her bicep, holding her in place against him. She was stronger than she looked, which sent another ripple of awareness straight to his toes.

"Explain the attitude," he growled against her ear. Her soft skin teased him.

"No."

"Explain why the hell you're in Afghanistan."

She pulled her ear from his lips and sliced a glare at him. "Because I was bored."

"Liar." His voice rasped, and he tightened his grip on her.

"I needed to get away from a headache."

Closer to the truth. He was a headache? "Fair enough." They locked in an unexplained moment, and he could feel the thump of her heartbeat through all the layers of gear.

"Let me go." She tried unsuccessfully to shrug away.

"You'll run away, for whatever stupid ass reason."

"I won't." She gave a thin smile. "I'll stay. I need a ride home."

He loosened his grip on her, but neither moved back. The pounding in his chest reverberated into his throat. The tips of his fingers pulsed. "Good."

"Good," she whispered.

A piece of dark hair dangled over her eye, and he brushed it back, dragging his finger into its tangled softness. Fuck, I didn't need to do that. He dropped his hand and let his fingers slide down the slope of her neck, tracing a path to her bicep. Goddamn. Didn't need to do that, either. But he couldn't stop.

She sucked in a breath and held it for a two-count. "You shouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because we're on the side of a mountain. Because you're you, and I'm me."

She apparently had the same concern he did-that it would ruin everything. "Not good enough reasons."

Her eyes sparkled, then she looked into the darkness, biting her lips. "Because we're in the middle of an op, waiting on news that could go either way."

"It'll be good news." Maybe, maybe not. But she needed to have faith.

"I'm not so sure."

He caressed her arm with his thumb. "That's why you're pissed?"