Edge of Survival Read Online Free PDF Page B

face value.” Then he left, closing the door quietly behind him, leaving Cam with the certain knowledge that not only was Daniel Fox a handsome sonofabitch, he was also a cold-blooded killer.

Chapter Three
Ready for Anything
The Parachute Regiment
    Thirty-four years old, at the peak of physical fitness, and he was absolutely fucking useless. Except at scaring women. He took another drink of contraband beer. Yep. He was damn good at scaring women.
    Christ.
    The look on the Doc’s face in the gym made the alcohol turn sour in his belly. She’d looked as though he was about to knife her on the spot. And wasn’t that what he’d wanted? To maintain his distance? To keep her at arm’s length?
    She wasn’t his type. He liked women who knew the score, who wanted to play the game. No commitment, no strings, no promises. Women who liked a bit of fun and physical release. Girls like Vikki. And Sylvie…
    How could you kill another human being?
    Loneliness echoed around the empty room. He scrubbed a hand over his face and turned up the music to fill the void. He couldn’t change the past any more than he could tap dance on a landmine without getting blown to shit. He sucked back a can of Moosehead and willed the alcohol to kick in.
    Breaking the rules. Again.
    Between the ship’s reformed-sinner captain and the overzealous local government, alcohol was considered the epitome of evil aboard this vessel. If they found it in his cabin, it was immediate grounds for dismissal. But a couple of beers wouldn’t do any harm unless he got caught. It helped him relax when he wasn’t flying. And seeing Sylvie’s murdered corpse today had unearthed some memories he’d rather forget.
    Some days he felt like a ghost…as if he’d died but no one realized it yet.
    He tried not to think about the past, but for the last twenty-three months, one week and five days, not thinking had been a hell of a lot easier with a beer in his hands. Or an aircraft. Or a woman.
    Wouldn’t it figure the Doc would turn up in skintight spandex that left nothing to the imagination? If Vikki had been with her they could have sweated out a threesome and rocked his world. But the Doc had turned up alone after questioning the first mate about his movements that day, and then said she needed to trust him?
    So, yes, he’d scared her. He wasn’t proud. He just wanted to be left alone.
    Christ .
    Just touching her the way he had…that stupid innocent caress had supercharged his blood and made him yearn for things he hadn’t thought about in years. And he’d wanted to put his hands in all sorts of places that were strictly forbidden. He screwed up his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. He’d never get involved with a woman like her, no matter how great her ass looked in shorts. He pulled the tab on a second beer and thumped his head three times against the wall because he did not need to be thinking about Cameran Young’s ass, or her eyes, or her soft mouth.
    There was a knock on the door. He drained the beer then shoved the crushed can inside his boot. He wiped his mouth, turned the music down, went to the door. “Who is it?”
    “I’ll give you a clue.” The voice was teasing and seductive. Female. Vikki Salinger. His groin tightened, his body in direct conflict with his instinct that told him to steer clear of the females on this boat.
    He didn’t want to get involved. He especially didn’t want to get involved with Cameran Young, and Vikki Salinger was Cameran’s friend and colleague.
    Memories pressed against his skull. Blood. Death. Hatred. His hand tightened over the doorknob. Daniel closed his eyes against circumstances he couldn’t change, took a breath and opened the door.
    “Hello, lover.” And there she stood, ranged against the wall, wildness and attitude scrawled indelibly over every inch. Tall, gangly as a fawn, she clutched a half bottle of vodka inside her jacket.
    Looking at Vikki was like staring at his own reflection. She was