Operation: Midnight Guardian by Linda Castillo Page B

glanced toward the window. “Looks like the storm may be letting up.”
    Relieved to be off the subject of Daniel, Mattie followed his gaze. The snow was still coming down, but not as heavily. She could still hear the wind, but it no longer shook the walls. “Do you think we can travel?”
    “I think we should try to get some sleep. If the weather continues to improve, we’ll take off in a few hours.”
     
    EVEN THOUGH Mattie was exhausted, sleep refused to come. She lay a few feet from the hearth on the scratchy blanket and stared into the low-burning embers, trying not to think about the state of her life. Outside, the wind no longer howled, but she could still hear it whispering through the cracks of the old cabin. The patter of snow against the windows had slacked, but she could still see it falling beyond the dirty glass.
    She’d just begun to drift when a sound from across the room jerked her awake. It was the kind of sound an injured animal made while in the throes of death. Alarmed, she sat up and looked around. In the dim light from the fire she could see Cutter lying on the floor a few feet away. She was about to call out to him when she realized he was the source of the sound.
    It came again. Part moan, part scream, the sound was fraught with pain and terror. It was a hopeless sound filled with resignation and suffering. The kind of sound that made her want to put her hands over her ears.
    She saw his body jerk. Once. Twice. A moan wrenched from his throat. “Monique,” he groaned. “Aw, God…Monique…” He muttered something in French.
    Not sure if he was in the throes of a nightmareor if he’d developed a fever from the bullet wound, Mattie rose and went to him. “Cutter?”
    He moved so quickly she didn’t have time to react. One moment she was bent over him, touching his shoulder, concerned that he was delirious with fever, the next she was lying on her back with the blade of a knife pressed to her throat.
    He stared down at her for a full five seconds before blinking. She could see him pulling himself back. Cursing, he shook himself, then got to his feet and walked over to the window to lean against the sill.
    Mattie lay on her back, her heart pounding, unable to believe what had just happened. Something horrific had been released inside him. Something that didn’t have anything to do with the bullet wound or fever or even the situation. He’d thought she was someone else. Someone he’d wanted to kill. She’d seen the surprise in his eyes the instant he’d recognized her. The flash of regret. The realization that he’d been out of control and about to cross a line.
    Slowly Mattie got to her feet. “What the hell was that all about?”
    “Don’t ever do that again,” he ground out.
    “Do what? Show concern?”
    Cutter braced his arms against the sill. “I don’t need your concern.”
    “You cried out in your sleep. I thought you’d developed a fever. I was trying to help.”
    “I don’t need your help.”
    Mattie touched her throat where the blade had been pressed. Anger joined the chorus of shock and fear when she looked at her fingertip and saw blood. Her hands and legs trembled as she walked over to him. “You came within an inch of cutting my throat.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “Yes, you did.” She thrust her fingers at him.
    His eyes flicked to the blood. Remorse filled his gaze. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…someone else.”
    “Who?”
    “It was a dream,” he said. “Let it go.”
    “It was more than a dream, Cutter. It was a nightmare. You were covered with sweat and crying out in your sleep.”
    Straightening, he turned to her. “Mattie, this is not your concern. Let it go.”
    “It is my business when I have to worry about you mistaking me for someone else and cutting my throat.”
    When he raked a hand through his short-cropped hair, Mattie saw his whole arm was trembling. What had upset this seemingly unflappable man so completely?
    “Cutter, you’re