by Cindy Dees
He was going to get them both killed if he didn’t get his mind on business and keep it there. It had been sheer dumb luck they didn’t get killed in the restaurant. Next time they might not be so lucky.
Last night was a huge mistake. He couldn’t let it happen again.
How he was going to stop it from happening he had no idea. The mere thought of lying beside Annie, holding her and loving her, aroused him. He wanted her so badly he could hardly stand it. She was an addiction in his blood.
Resolutely he set water on the stove to boil. Once they’d both had a bath, he was going to sterilize the bathtub and fill it with drinking water for them. He would cover it with the plastic wrap and it should last them for a week or two.
He took a roll of duct tape to the bedroom and crisscrossed tape across the windows. If they were hit and shattered, the tape would keep pieces of glass from flying around and injuring them. Next he taped blankets in place over the windows for extra protection from shrapnel. He left tiny peepholes on each side of the windows at eye level.
He dragged the bed into the living room, somehow managing to wrestle it through the doorway. When he finally got it in place along an interior wall, he sat down on it in relief.
Exhaustion rolled over him in a heavy wave, sucking him downward, seducing him into inactivity. If nothing else, their outing had shown him he was not strong enough to attempt leaving Gavarone yet. He closed his eyes and marshaled his strength. There was still a lot to do before dark, and the probable end of electricity. He was gathering himself to stand again when Annie’s voice sounded.
“Tom? Could you come here for a second?”
Immediately he was alert. “Are you all right?” he asked as he hurried to the bathroom.
He opened the door and a wave of steam rolled forth. Annie sat in the tub, covered to her neck in bubbles. Her hair was pinned up, and tendrils curled around her face, teasing her rosy cheeks. She looked like a centerfold about to reveal herself.
“I forgot my razor. Could you get it for me? It’s on top of the dresser in the bedroom.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
He stepped outside, leaning against the wall beside the door. He had to stop it, here and now. For both their sakes. But the sight of her luxuriating in that tub, looking hopeful that he might join her…
He shoved away from the wall and got her damn razor. He carried it into the bathroom, prepared to deliver it along with a speech about how they had to cool it.
She was standing up. Suds clung to her in all the right places, and she put any centerfold he’d ever seen to shame. Rivulets of water ran down her body, erasing the suds in their path, revealing tantalizing streaks of feminine flesh.
She had one foot propped on the edge of the tub, apparently waiting for the razor. Dumbly he handed it to her. Before his knees went too weak to hold him, he sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. Helplessly he watched her shave her legs.
Her hand smoothed its way up her calf, behind her knee, and up the back of her thigh. He watched its path, mesmerized. Another long stroke of her hand, and another strip of smooth flesh was revealed. Over and over, her hand glided upward in long, lazy movements. He couldn’t have gotten up and left if his life depended on it.
She gave the same treatment to her other leg, and Tom began to find it difficult to breathe. It must be all the heat and steam in the small space. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, fanning the fabric to cool himself. It didn’t help. He slipped another button free. And then another. Before he knew it, the shirt was off.
Still, he was burning up. Annie straightened and turned to look at him. She smiled, and he was lost. He rose and went to his Venus rising from the sea. She reached for his belt buckle, but her fingers were slippery and fumbled with the fastener. He brushed them aside and tore it open himself. She helped him out of his remaining clothes, more in the way than not, but the feel of her hands on him was pure heaven.
Finally, as naked as she, he stepped into the tub and wrapped his arms around her soapy perfection. His hands slid over her skin, and he gloried in her delight. And when she did the same to him, his knees threatened to give way once more. He carried her down with him and twisted so he lay full length in the tub with her stretched out on top of him.
Annie squirmed away and sat up. He guided her knees to either side of his hips and placed her hands on his shoulders. Her whole being lit up with a smile that warmed his soul as they became one.
The pleasure was exquisite, almost painful. He bit his lip and managed not to lose control. His effort was well rewarded by the sight of Annie, her head flung back, her eyes closed, her throat taut with ecstasy.
They laughed when water sloshed all over the floor, and they laughed again when he emptied the rest of the bubble bath into the tub. The heady aroma of gardenias swirled around them, and Tom knew he’d never smell that scent again without thinking of this moment. He gave himself over to it, savoring it with the same abandon Annie did. There was no holding back, no secrets. He laid before her everything that he was, and she did the same for him.
The water was cold by the time they finally climbed out of the tub. They took turns toweling each other dry, extending the moment as long as they could. Tom brushed out Annie’s hair and kissed the back of her neck while she blow-dried it. She spread his shaving cream for him, but he handled his razor himself. Annie inspected his work with her mouth and declared it a satisfactory shave. But finally the moment arrived when they had to leave the magic of their tryst.
Even Annie seemed to sense they might not have another like it. Her eyes grew shiny with unshed tears.
“You know we shouldn’t be doing this, Annie. I need to focus one hundred percent on getting us out of here.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Tom held her gently. “No regrets, angel. Promise me.”
She drew a shaky breath. “I promise. But you promise you won’t forget me.”
“I couldn’t if I tried. There’s never been another woman like you in my life.”
She leaned back to look up at him. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“I most certainly do not.”
“You don’t have to lie to me. I’ve seen the way groupie chicks hang all over you Special Forces types in bars while you lie your butts off to them about what you can do.”
He scowled at her. “I knew there was a reason why I never date military women. I can’t snow them with tales of my heroic deeds.”
Her expression turned serious. “I bet if you did tell people the truth, they wouldn’t believe you.”
He matched her serious turn. “That’s been my experience. We do some wild stuff. Sometimes even I don’t believe we pull off some of our missions.”
“Is this one of them?”
“It’s getting there. I’ll let you know when we’re sitting in a debriefing room telling the tale.”
She gave him a tremulous smile, the gesture both endearing and heart wrenching. “That’s a deal.”
“Meanwhile,” he said, clearing his throat to loosen the tightness in his chest, “We’ve got a war to get ready for. Our survival may depend on the preparations we make in the next few hours.”
Annie straightened her spine. It nearly broke her heart to see him so determined to take care of her and his men while he was still so hurt himself. The least she could do for him was to stand beside him and match his bravery. “Let’s get to it, then.”
Chapter 9
T wo weeks into their enforced hiding, Annie woke up after a routine night of gunfire to the sight of Tom sitting on the edge of the bed, cutting the cast off his left arm.
She rolled over and spooned herself around his naked back. “Are you sure your arm’s ready for that?”
He relaxed against her momentarily before the inevitable shift away from her. “Annie, we shouldn’t have—”
She rolled away from him, exasperated. “You say that every single time, Tom. I know we shouldn’t have. But we did. Nob
ody got hurt, nobody knows but us, and we both know the rules when we leave here. Can’t you just relax and enjoy what we have right now?”
He frowned down at her. “It’s not that simple. I can’t explain it, but I have a gut feeling something bad’s going to come of our relationship.”
“Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. You worry too much.”
“And you don’t worry enough.”
She sighed. They’d been over that ground before. “Any particular reason you’re taking your cast off today?”
“Yeah. We’re getting out of here tomorrow, and it would be in my way.”
Annie sat bolt upright in bed. “Tomorrow?”
“That’s the plan. We’re all going walk out of here and leave Gavarone to its war.”
“You make it sound easy.”
He frowned. “It’ll be anything but easy. Which reminds me. Get plenty of rest today. No hard workouts.”
She’d followed his lead and exercised rigorously for the past two weeks. It had been a nightmare for her. Watching the pain and suffering Tom had to put himself through to recover from the injuries she’d inflicted upon him had been pure torture. With every session, every muffled groan, every carefully disguised flinch from him, her guilt grew. Her need to do something—anything—to make amends to him or even just to suffer in like fashion grew nearly unbearable. She was as trapped in her own way by Tom’s injuries as he was.
His voice interrupted her spinning thoughts. “Are you ready to get back to civilization?”
The idea captured her complete attention. She smiled dreamily. “Just think. I could be taking a nice hot bath the day after tomorrow.”
Tom answered lightly, “Sorry to disappoint you, but Navy ships don’t have bathtubs. You’ll have to wait until we get stateside for that.”
“Hey, I’d settle for a cold shower right about now.”
Tom smiled. “Me, too. If it makes you feel better, the longest I’ve ever gone without washing, except for rain and occasional mud puddles, was sixty-three days. So you’re not even close to my record.”
Annie laughed. “That’s disgusting! I bet you stood in the shower for an hour after you got back to civilization.”
“Yup. Scrubbed myself with steel wool and Lysol.”
“Your workouts these past two weeks may have proved you’re tough, but you’re not that tough!”
His response was casual. “I’ve been taking it easy on myself.”
Annie shook her head. For all she knew, he might have been. But his exercise regimen had been awe inspiring nonetheless.
“The whole team’s meeting here tonight, angel. Do we have enough food left to give them a decent meal?”
“We still have a fair bit. But the way you guys eat, I’m not sure it’ll qualify as a decent meal.”
“You know us growing boys.”
She grinned. “Boys being the operative word.”
Tom’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, yeah?”
Annie managed one zig before Tom zagged and immobilized her completely. She didn’t stand a chance of winning the tickling match that followed. But she did win the internal struggle between Tom and his conscience when he finally kissed her and then made love to her.
Tom’s men started trickling in at dusk. They didn’t eat the cupboards completely bare, but it was a close call.
Doc was the last to arrive. Annie sat with him while he gulped down a can of chili she’d heated over a couple of candles. When he finished, she followed him into the bedroom. The others were peering by flashlight at the six-foot-tall map of St. George that Tom had drawn on her lovely yellow wall.
Tom spoke over his shoulder, “So, Doc. What’s the word from rebel headquarters?”
Over the past two weeks, Doc had earned the complete trust of the rebel leaders by treating their wounded brilliantly, compliments of Uncle Sam’s fine training.
“They’re moving into this eastern sector tomorrow night.” He pointed at the map.
“Where are the troops coming from?”
“This area here.” Doc pointed at a historic neighborhood in the center of the city known as Old Town.
Dutch spoke up. “The rebels don’t have all that many soldiers there now. If they pull a large force out to attack to the east, Old Town’s going to be covered pretty thin.”
Annie mentally sighed in relief. It was just the opening they needed.
Tom frowned. “Does the government know about this? If they do, they’ll move on Old Town tomorrow night to take it back.”
Annie’s spirits fell. Darn. He was right.
Mac spoke up. “I haven’t heard anything about an offensive at the Gavronese Army’s headquarters. But then I only work in their supply office. I’m not wiping generals’ a—pardon me, ma’am—behinds like Doc is.”
Tom turned to the silent member of his team, Howdy. The other men stilled and listened intently when he finally spoke.
“This afternoon the government repositioned a lot of heavy, rolling equipment for an attack of some kind. They’re in place to hit either the sector Doc’s talking about or this area to the northwest. Both targets are lightly defended by the rebels. Unfortunately, they’re also our two best bets for egress routes.”
“Could the government attack both positions simultaneously?”
Howdy shook his head. “Not enough firepower. They’ll do one or the other.”
Annie groaned silently. Great. So if they picked the right route, they’d have an easy walk out. If they picked the wrong one they’d land smack dab in the middle of a firefight. A hot one.
Tom frowned. “Any thoughts on which route we take, anyone?”
There were shrugs all around.
“Annie?”
She started. “What?”
“Which route would you suggest?”
Her cheeks grew hot as all the men stared intently at her. “Me? I don’t know anything about this tactical stuff.”
“Which section of the city are you more familiar with?”
“Old Town. It’s tricky to navigate, though. Lots of narrow winding streets. The other area you guys are looking at is more modern with wide boulevards that run in compass grid lines.”
“Well then, Old Town it is.”
All the guys nodded in agreement with Tom.
Alarmed, she said, “Look, don’t make this decision based on my lowly opinions. You guys do your expert thing and choose.”
“We just did. Tanks maneuver lousy in tight spaces. And the more little alleys and side streets there are, the more hiding places there’ll be for us.” Tom shifted topics. “Okay, so how are we doing for firepower?”
Howdy rolled open a large bundle he’d carried in with him and dumped at least twenty assorted pistols, shotguns and rifles on the floor.
Eagerly the other men reached for the weapons, inspecting and commenting on the arsenal. In a matter of minutes there were gun parts all over the floor as the guys cleaned and tinkered with the weapons.
Tom gestured for her to sit on the floor beside him. She did so, leaning her back against the couch and savoring his nearness.
“Have you ever used any of these, Annie?”
“Well, I’ve shot .38 revolvers and 9 mm Berettas in my annual marksmanship training.”
“Are you any good?”
She threw him a sideways look and murmured, “You mean with a gun?”
One corner of his mouth turned up and he murmured back, “I know what you can do without one, angel.”
“I can shred the heck out of a paper bull’s-eye.”
“Ever shot at a live target?”
“Nope.”
“Ever done any hunting?”
“Goodness, no! I wouldn’t shoot at a poor, defenseless animal!”
The other men looked up at her outburst and grinned. Tex drawled, “I chase little bunnies, but I don’t shoot ’em, either. It ain’t sporting to hunt with a gun.”
Mac laughed. “The only bunnies you chase are Playboy bunnies, Tex.�
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Tom leaned over until his shoulder touched hers and his breath was warm on her neck. She hardly noticed when he dropped a pistol in her lap. Its weight wasn’t nearly as heavy as the thudding of her heart.
The timbre of his voice sent goose bumps down her spine as he said, “This is a SIG-Sauer P229 semiautomatic pistol. Its clip holds ten rounds….”
He rattled off a series of specifications, muzzle velocities, trigger pull weights and other assorted statistics. What registered with Annie was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled and how kissable his mouth looked.
When his recitation ended, she said regretfully, “Tom, I’m terribly impressed by your display of knowledge, but I don’t have the slightest idea what any of that means.”
Snickers turned into coughs behind her.
Tex piped up, “Why, it means you point that li’l ol’ thing at the bad guy and pull the trigger. Then hang on, ’cause it’ll knock you on your derriere if you don’t.”
Tom’s voice was dry. “Thanks for the translation into Stupid, Tex.”
“Anytime, boss.”
Tom demonstrated loading and aiming the pistol once, then placed the angular, heavy weapon in her hands. She scooted forward while he slid behind her and circled her with his arms. He placed his hands over hers and guided her through the motions.
Maybe it was the dark lethality of the guns and men around her, or maybe it was the leashed energy bursting in the room, but being with Tom like this the night before a mission was exciting and edgy and sexy.
He murmured in her ear, “Angel, if you get any more turned on than you are right now, I’m gonna have to take you into the bedroom and make love to you.”
“What about your men?” she whispered back.
“What about them?”
“You wouldn’t.”
She felt his grin against her ear. “Don’t dare me or I may have to.”
Shivers raced from her scalp to the arches of her feet. The appeal of what he suggested melted her from the inside out. She considered tossing out the dare.
