Captive of Fate by Lindsay McKenna Page A

suddenly replaced her drowsy contentment. For an instant, she tensed. Matt stirred in his sleep, his hand moving across her hip and coming to rest at her waist.
    Outside the tent, the tropical birds were beginning to awaken to an unseen sun, chirping in melodic patterns. Matt’s heart beat changed, pulsing more strongly beneath her ear. His face was barely inches from her own, and Alanna’s eyes widened as she watched him wake up. His features, usually imperturbable, were boyishly readable. The shadowed darkness of a day’s growth of beard made his cheeks seem more gaunt. But the lines of tension around his generous mouth had disappeared, and so had the scowl that seemed to hover between his brows. Her lips parted as she gloried in the discovery of his vulnerability during those fleeting, precious seconds. Why did people have to hide their true selves? Matt looked approachable now and so very, very human. She frowned, thinking of herself. How much did she hide inside? He seemed to be able to lift the facade she had built around herself and see the real Alanna. The thought wasn’t disturbing. She was safe with him.
    Another more painful thought interrupted her musings. It would always be between them. The question had to be answered: Was he stealing medical supplies and selling them to the guerrillas?
    Alanna gently extricated herself and found her ill-fitting trousers, squirming into them. What would the senator have to say about her sleeping with the man she was supposed to be investigating? She compressed her lips, struggling into the oversized combat boots. Part of her heart cried out at the unfairness of the situation. Alanna fought against her feelings for Matt. She couldn’t get involved! Not now. Not until this whole investigation was over and his name was cleared. A feeling of panic shook her. What if Matt were guilty? Her heart was filled with pain. Despite the senator’s inflammatory statements, Alanna had found nothing about Matt Breckenridge thus far that supported those accusations. Sighing heavily, she finished the last lace and turned, looking directly into Matt’s gray eyes.
    “Good morning,” he murmured.
    She sat very still, her heart hammering wildly in her breast. Awakened, he looked like that mountain jaguar her mind had so vividly created. He lay naked to the waist, the blanket covering his lower body. The play of muscles beneath his flesh was beautiful to watch. Nowhere on his magnificently sculpted body was there an ounce of fat. The dark hair on his arms and chest accentuated his maleness leaving Alanna helplessly ensnared by her attraction for him. Her own body traitorously responded to his nearness, and she quickly clamped down on her desires. This was no time or place to think of falling in love with a man. Especially Matt Breckenridge.
    Alanna choked back a gasp: falling in love? Good God! Where had she concocted that nonsense? Panic overrode her coolly detached logic as the entire idea sank in. She avoided his gaze, pretending to busy herself with her long, braided hair.
    “Did you sleep well after the ground settled down?” he asked.
    “Yes.” She turned, biting her lower lip, realizing her voice sounded strident and off-key. “I’m sorry. I just keep thinking of all that has to be done today,” she offered, lying.
    He seemed to accept her moodiness with good grace, sitting up and searching for a clean T-shirt. Shrugging it over his head, he pulled it down. “Then you didn’t have any more nightmares?”
    “No….”
    He gave her a disarming smile, slipping on the utility shirt. “I’m glad those earth tremors happened along.”
    Alanna’s brows drew downward. “You would be.”
    Matt rested his arms against his blanketed knees. “You have to enjoy life one moment at a time,” he reminded her. A slow grin pulled at his mouth. “And unless you want to stick around and see the rest of me, I have to get my trousers on. You’re welcome to stay of course.”
    She blushed