High Flyer - Michelle Diener Page 0,3

opened her comm unit and pulled out the chip. She crouched down, moving smoothly and quickly, placed the chip on a flat rock, grabbed another rock and smashed it down hard. He handed his chip to her and she smashed that as well.

“At least we got that call in to Lancaster.”

“It'll take him a few hours to get another Sig and get out here.” She picked up the smashed chips and stuck them in her shorts pocket, then scuffed her boot over the rock she'd used to destroyed them, removing any sign of the carnage.

“You're handy to have around on the run.” Iver started forward again, heading for the stream he'd seen moments before they'd hit the ground.

The runner that had taken out his Sig had landed behind them, just over the ridge, and someone would be coming to scout the area soon enough.

“Think they saw us?”

“They were coming from the opposite direction, and they hit the Sig before they landed, so chances are no.” Hana fell into step with him again, and they took the sudden, steep descent to the stream, which was deep and fast, and cut into pure rock.

He waded in, wincing as the icy water climbed to his waist. Hana followed him without speaking, without so much as a squeak at the cold. She looked like calm competence personified, and as swift and brutal as the water battering at him, he felt something give way in himself.

He caught her eye, and as their gazes clashed she stumbled, throwing out her hands to get her balance. She didn't cry out, though, and when she got her footing, she didn't raise her head again.

Yes, whatever was between them, there was no putting it back in the box now.

Chapter 3

The last glow of dusk lit the rocks in the gorge a radiant red, reflecting off the water and dancing across the wall in the little hollow just above the waterline that Iver had found them.

The tiny cave sat snug beneath the river bank, but the water was low enough to give them a dry place to sit, completely hidden from above.

Quarters were cramped though.

Iver's wet trousers stuck to her bare legs, and Hana shivered as the air cooled. Not for the first time since she'd shimmied out of her fire suit, she wished she hadn't pulled on shorts this morning. There were soft, warm hiking trousers in her pack, but that would mean getting out of her shorts with Iver literally pressed up behind her, which wasn't going to happen. The rushing sound of the stream was probably loud enough to cover most noises they made, but she wasn't prepared to risk unzipping her pack and rustling clothes, or stripping down in front of her boss.

Above them, the sound of people walking and calling to each other was clear, and Hana guessed there were three of them.

There was a fourth man, though. By the sounds of the grumbling above, he was directing proceedings from their runner.

So far, he hadn't bothered to join the search.

“Is he serious there are no bodies in that Sig? How can he tell? It's a ball of flame.”

“Don't ask me, man. If they did make it out of there without injuries, then they have a portable sky lane, because they aren't here.”

“A portable sky lane? Think there is such a thing?” The first man scoffed.

“Don't know. But if anyone's got one, it'd be Sugotti, right?”

There was silence, and eventually the footsteps moved away.

Hana closed her eyes, waiting, and another shiver ran through her.

Iver made a small sound of . . . impatience? Exasperation? His arms came around her and he pulled her back against him. She stiffened in surprise, then relaxed into his hold as the contact with him warmed her back. Sharing body heat made sense. She just wished it didn't involve her being literally in Iver Sugotti's embrace.

It was still quiet up there, but the searchers had to know the stream was the most likely place she and Sugotti were hiding. They hadn't been tramping up and down here for the last fifteen minutes for fun, but so far they hadn't tried to wade into the stream itself.

Sugotti shifted behind her and she opened her eyes and tilted her head as she turned to look up at him. He was watching her, his face so close to hers she could see each thick dark eyelash framing his dark gray eyes.

She forced her gaze forward.

Iver Sugotti was dangerous.

He noticed things. Things she wanted to