Power (Special Tactical Units Division 1)

He’d seen grown men sob as they fell into the arms of their rescuers.

Not this woman.

Still, there was a softness to her. Was what you saw on the outside a barrier against the world? If it was, who was the real woman behind that barrier?

What would a man find if he got past it?

And, Jesus, why was he wasting time and energy on cheap philosophizing? It was definitely time to secure their campsite, call it a night, get some much-needed sleep, she in the shelter, he out here by the fire…

She, still in the underbrush.

He got to his feet. He’d been foolish, letting her go off on her own. Snakes, spiders, God only knew what else might be out there, just waiting for dinner.

“Bellini? What’s taking so long?”

“Dio! If you have to ask me such a dumb question, Lieutenant…”

A sound, something like a deep, rusty bark, echoed through the jungle just as she stepped into the clearing.

She spun towards the wall of green behind her.

“Did you hear that?”

Better safe than sorry, Tanner thought, reaching for his rifle.

“Easy. It’s a jaguar, but he’s a long way off.”

Wide-eyed, she turned in a slow circle. What a wonderful irony, that the woman who wanted to turn cats into coats was terrified because one was in the area.

“How far?”

“It’s hard to tell. A quarter mile, half a mile, maybe. We’ll keep our eyes open, but the odds are good that if he should catch our scent, he’ll do his best to avoid—”

“I’d give anything for a glimpse of him!”

The words came out on a long, excited rush of breath. He looked at her. Hell. She was excited, not fearful.

“They’re not tame pussycats,” he said sharply. “They’re big. Smart. Cornered or frightened, they can be dangerous. And I can assure you that he isn’t interested in being on display for you or anyone else.”

“He’s probably just coming off a hunt,” she whispered. “Most people think they’re nocturnal, but they’re not. They’re crepuscular.”

She sounded like one of those programs on National Geographic.

“Crepuscular,” he repeated.

“Uh-huh. It means—”

“I know what it means. They hunt at dawn and dusk. I’m just surprised you know it.”

That stopped her.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Her tone bordered on the incredulous. Or maybe on mockery, which was even worse. “I’ve been studying jaguars for months. I spent days hiking the Cockscomb Basin Jaguar Sanctuary in Belize. I met with the director of the Belize Zoo. She knows more about jaguars than anybody. I went inside an enclosure with her and one of her cats, but I’ve never actually encountered one in the—”

“You went into a jaguar enclosure?”

“Well, into an enclosure within the enclosure. It’s hard to explain, but—”

“Damn right, it’s hard to explain. You did all that, and you want to turn them into coats?”