him get away with not taking the credit. “Well, tell him I said thank you. After being locked up for so long, it meant the world to hear my uncle’s voice.”
Hope wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep. Didn’t know what had woken her up. Groggy, she peered out the opening of the tent and caught a glimpse of the half-moon peeking through a break in the clouds.
Gradually, the fog of sleep lifted, and she became aware of a hand on her hip, the warm, callused fingers lightly stroking the skin just above the waistband of her pants. A bolt of fear shot through her veins; her breath caught in her throat. She’d gone to sleep before the guys, so she had no idea who it was. Hell, it might not even be one of the guys. For all she knew, more men like the ones they’d encountered had slipped into camp.
Fighting a rising sense of panic, she slowly curled her arm with the intention of elbowing whoever the hand belonged to. But then she heard a low, rough murmur and relaxed when she realized who it was.
“Wade?” she whispered.
No response. Judging from the sound of his deep, even breathing, the man was out like a light.
If she had a lick of sense, she’d push his hand away and go back to sleep. But now that she knew who the hand belonged to, she didn’t mind so much. It kind of felt nice—a warm, steady weight—and besides, what was the harm?
But then the hand crept upward, his fingers brushing over her belly, and a hot jolt of awareness bloomed in her chest and headed south.
“Wade?” she whispered again, a little more urgently this time.
No response. No surprise. The man was still out cold.
He nestled her back against the muscled wall of his chest, and her breath tripped out in a ragged exhale. It had been a long time since she’d slept beside a man, and she had to admit she kind of liked the hard, strong feel of him against her back.
Okay, there was no “kind of” about it. It felt good. Really good. Maybe a little too good. His thumb brushed the soft underswell of her breast, and it was all she could do not to moan. Biting her lip, she squeezed her eyes shut as flashes of desire rippled through her.
Christ, what the hell was wrong with her? Common sense demanded she wake him this instant, but a part of her imagined how good it would feel if his hand slid up a little higher.
A rumble rose in his chest. His face was buried in her hair. But when he murmured, “Mmm, Carmen,” all of those warm, fuzzy feelings she was having turned to dust.
Annoyed with herself as much as with Wade, she jabbed him with her elbow. “Wake up.”
“Huh? What?” A few seconds passed before his hand slowly retreated and he rolled onto his back. “Aw, shit. Sorry.”
The sincerity in his deep, rough voice dulled the edge of her anger. It seemed kind of pointless to stay mad at him when he’d been acting out in a dream state. And once he’d woken, he’d immediately stopped what he was doing and apologized.
Still, she was curious about the dream, and she twisted around to face him. “You said a woman’s name in your sleep. Carmen.”
In the pale moonlight, she saw his whole body tense.
“She’s, uh...” There was a long pause. “Fuck.”
“Girlfriend?” Hope’s stomach twisted at the thought. How messed up was that? They barely knew each other. Hell, they barely tolerated each other’s existence. She had no business feeling anything remotely territorial.
“No, she was my partner. The one Aranza killed. We worked together for almost three years.” His words were little more than a rumble in the night. With a grunt, he pushed up to a sitting position and scrubbed a hand over his thick beard stubble.
“I got the impression you were more than just co-workers.”
Wade shook his head. “It wasn’t like that.”
“But it’s what you wanted.” The way he’d acted in his sleep made that obvious.
Even in the dark, she felt the force of his glare. “Christ, are you always this fucking nosy?”
“No, not really.” Chin tipped up, she refused to let him derail the conversation with an insult. “But when I get groped in the middle of the night, I think I have a right to ask questions.”
What sounded an awful lot like a growl crawled up Wade’s throat. Without a word, he turned his head