Page 6 of Heat Force
The familiar resolve settled on him. The exertion calmed him, and his mind zeroed in on the task at hand. When you were put to the test, you focused on the little things—the elements you could control. The path ahead, the next step, the feel of the wetness on your face.
It felt good. Fuck, it felt amazing.
For the first time in God only knew how long, he felt alive.
“You okay?” Lexi turned her head. She’d been marching ahead of him, backpack on her slim frame, boots steady and consistent. She had an easy walking style that he admired—especially from behind. Smart, sassy, and cute in a dynamite package, even without makeup and her hair still pulled back in that schoolgirl ponytail.
“Great,” he grinned back, then saw her frown, confused.
She made a refreshing change from the endless string of pampered, coiffed, and self-absorbed women he usually dated. Not by choice, mind you—they were the only women he met, the only ones who hung out in his social circles. Unless he started online dating or paid for the service, he was unlikely to meet anyone else.
Lexi.
He wondered what that was short for. Alexandra?
There was something about her… the fierce defense of the sanctuary, her passion for her job, her love of wildlife… Something that struck a chord in him. Maybe because it reminded him of when he used to feel like that.
But that sensation had long since faded. Running a company, solving problems, driving a desk had made sure of that. He’d thought that was what he wanted—a way to make a real difference instead of kicking down doors and taking out the bad guys. That was important, but he quickly realized there would always be more doors, more bad guys.
Power. That was the way to make a real difference.
Except, was he?
Sure, he built dams in developing nations, bridges in mountain towns, and power plants in the desert. He also owned mines, like the one he was hoping to purchase here in the DRC, one of the world’s most dangerous hotspots and one with the worst humanitarian record.
But was he changing the lives of the people who lived there? Or had he conveniently forgotten about that, caught up in the stressful whirl of commerce, share prices, and budgets? He made a mental note to revisit his early mission statement, to make sure he was doing what he’d set out to do, no matter what his shareholders thought. The thought cheered him.
“I’d forgotten how good it felt to be out in nature,” he said by way of explanation, then gave a low chuckle. Water collectedon giant leaves and poured onto other giant leaves, cascading in mini-waterfalls down to the ground. “Even in the rain.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “I love it too.”
With that hood over her head, her eyes looked enormous, and he noticed they were a dark, forest green, the same color as the jungle around them.
“Is that what brought you out here?” He shifted the gurney to his other arm as he fell into step beside her.
“Kind of.” She kept her eyes on the trail ahead. Steam from the sunbaked ground curled around their ankles, turning the path into a mud bath. “I wanted to use my qualification and thought this might be a good place.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“What?” she said, a tad defensively.
He nodded to the tangled mesh of foliage on either side. “This isn’t the first place most people would think to go. It’s kind of in the middle of nowhere.” Not to mention dangerous.
A hint of a smile played on her lips. “I’m not most people.”
Clearly.
He gave a knowing nod. “So, what are you running from?”
She slipped in the mud, teetering off balance, and would have fallen if he hadn’t shot out his free arm to steady her. “W—what makes you think I’m running?”
“Come on. You’re obviously well-educated, you’re from upstate New York, and you travel out here, to the most dangerous place on the planet? There’s got to be a reason.”
She scowled. “What are you? A linguist or something?”
He shrugged. “I’ve got a thing for languages, yeah. It helps with my work.”
“Mining?”