by Pamela Clare
The doctor chuckled. “She has a concussion, and she’s probably still dehydrated. She needs food, water, and undisturbed sleep. But she is strong and healthy—and very lucky. I’ve given her a new supply of antimalarial drugs, as well as some pills for pain. She should rest now.”
Malik walked the doctor and nurse to the door and paid in dollars. “Thanks for coming.”
He grabbed the bag of clothes and other things he’d bought for her and carried them into the room. “I picked up some stuff at the mall. I hope it all fits.”
“Thanks, Malik.” She stood, walked into his arms. “Thank you for coming after me. I don’t know how you did it, but I’ll never forget it.”
“What else could I do?” Malik held her, the feel of her precious in his arms.
She didn’t pull away but looked up at him. “I need to call my parents. I don’t want them to worry.”
“The State Department will contact them, but they’ll want to hear from you. You can use my phone.”
From the doorway, David cleared his throat. “When you’re dressed, the officers from the Nigeria Police Force would like to ask you some questions, Miss Chang.”
Malik looked over at him. “Now?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Malik left her so she could dress in private, closing the door behind him. “The doctor says she needs food, clean water, and rest. He gave her some pain pills.”
“We must all eat. I will place an order. Have you ever had room service, Obi?”
The boy shook his head. “Room … service?”
Five minutes later, when Kristi hadn’t emerged, Malik went to check on her, tapping on the closed door with his knuckles then cracking it open when she didn’t answer. “Kristi?”
She lay asleep on the bed, still wearing the bathrobe, the clothes he’d bought her untouched in the shopping bag beside her.
He covered her with a blanket and left her to sleep.
8
Kristi woke from an uneasy sleep, her dreams a commotion of images, shouts, gunshots. She glanced around, confused. She was in the hotel in Kaduna with Malik. It was over. She was safe.
Malik was in the room with her. Somehow, he’d managed to fall asleep in an armchair, his long legs propped up on another, smaller chair. He woke when she sat up, instantly alert. “Are you okay?”
“I just need to pee.”
When she stepped out of the bathroom, she found him standing beside the bed, wearing a T-shirt and pair of sweats and waiting for her with a fresh bottle of water.
“Drink.” He handed it to her. “How’s your head?”
“Thanks. I still have a headache, but it’s better.” She took more acetaminophen, swallowed it with a few gulps of cool water, and set the bottle down on her bedside table. “You don’t have to sleep in the chair. That can’t be comfortable. We’ve shared a bed before—a much smaller bed.”
The beds at Amundsen-Scott were notoriously narrow.
Then it dawned on her that there might be someone in his life now.
“Sorry. I didn’t think. You could have a girlfriend or wife for all I know.”
You’re babbling.
“Is that your way of asking if I’m connected?” He chuckled, a soft, deep sound. “I’m not. No wife. No girlfriend.”
She wouldn’t deny that she felt relieved at his answer. “I just wanted to say that you can sleep in the bed—if you’re comfortable with that.”
“I didn’t want to presume, especially after what you’ve been through.”
God, he was sweet.
She held out her hand. “Come.”
He pulled off his shirt, took her hand, and slid beneath the covers beside her.
She turned onto her side, facing him. “You shaved off your beard.”
“You haven’t changed. You’re as beautiful as I remember—even with bruises.”
She reached out, touched his cheek. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
He caught her hand, pressed his lips to her palm, laced his fingers through hers. “Where else would I be? I’m the dude who kicks the ass of any man who touches my wife, right?”
“Right.” She kind of liked hearing him say that word—wife.
He seemed to study her, concern on his face, his gaze soft. “How are you doing, Kristi, really?”
“I … I don’t know. It’s all so … raw.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She didn’t, not really, but the words began to spill out of her. She told Malik everything, starting with the moment she’d spotted Peter watching her in the vaccine line. She kept it together until she reached the point when Peter had come up behind Jidda and shot him. Then tears came, and her body started to tremble.
“I didn’t like Jidda at all. He killed people to save his own life. I’m sure he trafficked women. But I thought he and I had reached a truce. I agreed to be a nurse for him and his men as long as they kept their hands off me. When Peter shot him…”
Malik wiped a tear from her cheek. “You must have been terrified.”
“I knew it was over. I had the scalpel, but I was afraid to use it on him because I knew he’d turn it against me. I told him you would kill him. I told him that no matter what he did to me, I would think only of you.”
“God, Kristi.” Malik drew her against him, and for a time he just held her, his body warm and solid in a world that had come apart. “I’m so damned sorry.”
She sniffed, fought to stop her tears. “I’ve never been so afraid.”
“I was there the whole time. I saw him kill Jidda. I saw him hit you. At that point, I knew we couldn’t wait for the police or the army. We had to move in to stop that son of a bitch from hurting you.”
“When you shouted for me to stay down, I thought I was hearing things, that it was just the bump on my head.”
“I didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”
“I can’t believe it was just you and David. When I saw you, I thought everyone was here—the whole Cobra team.”
He shook his head, frowned. “They’re on another mission, but they gave us some support. Corbray and Tower—Cobra’s two owners—went to the State Department and asked to be assigned to your rescue mission, but State wasn’t interested. They wanted to wait and see how things played out.”
Chills skittered down her spine. “What? The US government wasn’t going to send anyone? They were just going to leave me with those bastards?”
Malik nodded. “They were sure you’d be ransomed back.”
“That wouldn’t have happened. Jidda never mentioned ransom. I would have been their captive for months.” The thought left her feeling sick. “They could have done whatever they wanted to me. Peter talked about selling me. He would have ra—”
“Don’t think about it. That’s not how it turned out.”
“Only because of you—and David, whoever he is.”
“He’s a Cobra asset—and a friend. Elizabeth Shields, one of Cobra’s intel experts, got in touch with him and asked him to hook me up with weapons and ammo. He offered to help if I let him keep that drone.”
Then it hit her. “Cobra is somewhere else, and the US government wasn’t planning a rescue. You came on your own—without authorization?”
“Tower wanted me to wait until the current mission was completed, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t abandon you, Kristi. I turned in my resignation and got on a plane.”
“Oh, Malik.” The extent of what he’d done for her left her stunned, warmth swelling inside her chest. “You quit your job and risked your life for me?”
He ran a thumb over her cheek. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Kristi could see in his eyes that he meant it.
Malik saw the gratitude on Kristi’s face, but he couldn’t claim all of the glory. “I couldn’t have done it without David and Cobra. David let me borrow weapons, watched my back. Tower sent me off with the drone. Shields asked the Pentagon to divert a high-altitude military
surveillance drone to do a flyover of the forests west of Kinu. I’d sent her photos someone had taken of the bandits’ SUV, and she spotted the vehicle in the drone footage. That’s how we found you.”
“But none of that would have happened if you hadn’t gotten on that plane.”
He supposed that was true. “You deserve some credit, too, you know. You held those bastards off for four days using your brain.”
“It wasn’t enough in the end. I’ve never felt so helpless.”
Malik had never known what it was to be in her shoes. He was stronger and tougher than most men. He had better endurance and advanced military training. He could fight his way out of almost anything. She’d had only her wits and that fucking scalpel to protect herself.
But Malik shouldn’t have dredged all this up for her in the middle of the night. “You should get some sleep.”
She slid a hand up his bare chest, thumbed the hair on his sternum, her touch striking sparks off his skin. “Kiss me, Malik.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse her, to remind her that the doctor had said she needed rest, but then she closed her eyes, offered him her lips.
Ah, hell.
He had never been able to resist her.
He brushed his lips over hers, gratified by her little gasp, the contact electric. He did it again and again, until she whimpered, until his lips tingled. Then he took her mouth with his in a deep, slow kiss.
Geezus.
It was as if no time had passed at all, the heat that flared between them as potent as it had been eighteen months ago. It was like nothing he’d experienced with any other woman. He was gasoline, and she was the flame.
Knowing what she’d been through, he tried to hold back, but there was no holding back, not with Kristi. She answered every caress of his lips, every stroke of his tongue with her own, making him work for control of the kiss, taking as much as she gave.
Her hands slid from his chest over his bare shoulders as she arched against him, the terrycloth bathrobe falling open so that her bare breasts pressed against his ribcage.
“Mmm.” Blood rushed to his groin, and he couldn’t resist touching her.
He took a full, lush breast into his hand, palmed it, rubbed the already taut peak with this thumb, smiling when she broke the kiss and arched into his touch.
“Malik.”
They hadn’t seen each other in a year and a half, but he hadn’t forgotten anything. He remembered what turned her on. He remembered the light on her face when she came. He even remembered her taste.
He nudged her onto her back, lowered his mouth to one dark nipple, and sucked.
Her exhale became a moan, and she arched again, her fingers finding their way into his hair. “Yes.”
He feasted, suckling first one nipple and then the other, tugging her with his lips, nipping her with his teeth, flicking her with his tongue until her hips moved beneath him in instinctive imitation of sex.
She reached down between them, slid her hand inside his sweats, and took hold of his erection, heightening his lust with skillful strokes.
Hell, yeah.
She hadn’t forgotten anything either.
She spread her legs. “I want you inside me—now.”
“Do you still have the IUD?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
“God, yes. Fuck me.”
Lust thrumming in his veins, he raised himself up, settled his hips between her thighs, and let her guide his cock inside her. And—oh, God—it was like coming home.
They moaned in unison, Kristi’s head going back, her eyes drifting shut, her hands sliding beneath his sweats to grasp his bare ass.
Malik willed himself to relax. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman—eighteen months to be exact—and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to disappoint her.
He willed himself to think only of her, moving slowly at first, watching bliss unfold on her face with each deep stroke. “God, you’re beautiful.”
“You are … so good.” Her nails bit into his bare ass, urging him on.
Malik drove himself into her. He was lost in her… drunk on her … so fucking strung out on her.
Body melting. Headboard slamming against the wall. Mattress squeaking.
Sweet curves. Musk. Slick heat.
Harder. Faster.
Ah, yeah, she was close now, her eyes squeezed shut, her every exhale a moan.
On a razor’s edge, Malik fought to hold on, his mouth taking off without him. “Fuck, yes. Kristi. You’re too sweet … I want… Geezus. I’ve missed you.”
“Malik!” She cried out and arched beneath him, a look of rapture on her beautiful face as she came.
Malik drove her orgasm home then let himself go, his hips pounding into her, his control lost, his body driving headlong toward release. Then he shattered, orgasm scorching through him, searing body and soul as he spilled himself inside her.
For a time, they stayed that way—Malik inside her, the two of them breathing hard, their hearts pounding. Then Malik shifted onto his side, drawing her with him, cradling her in his arms. “Sleep, angel.”
Kristi woke the next morning to find herself in Malik’s arms, daylight peeking around the curtains. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He kissed her forehead. “How did you sleep?”
Last night had been incredible. She’d wondered if the spark between them would be as strong as it had been in Antarctica. If anything, it was stronger. They’d picked up where they’d left off without losing anything in the interim.
She stretched, smiled, her body languid. “Better than I have in a long time. You?”
“Same.” His brow furrowed and he touched a finger to her bruised cheek. “How’s your headache.”
She rubbed her fingertips gingerly over the lump on her scalp. “It’s still there, but it’s not as bad. I think you fucked away my concussion.”
He grinned, his face so damned handsome it made her chest ache. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“I’m the RN, remember?” She ran her hands up the satin skin of his chest, her fingers caressing the gunshot scar he’d gotten in Afghanistan. “I’ve missed you. Not just sex, though the sex is still incredible. I’ve missed you.”
She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. She wouldn’t hold back this time. She would tell him how she felt.
He caught her hand, raised her fingers to his lips, and kissed them, his expression serious. “I’ve missed you, too. I should have called, kept in touch. I thought about it a million times. I know we agreed to no strings, but I care about you.”
“I suspected you might—you know, given that you quit your job and flew to the other side of the world to kill bad guys and rescue me.”
It didn’t make him laugh.
“When I heard you’d been abducted, it gutted me. I knew there was a chance I’d never see you again. I kicked myself in the ass for not staying in touch.”
“I did the same thing. I was angry at myself for not reaching out and for not listening to you about changing my contract.” Tenderness for him swelled behind her breastbone. “I put you in danger. You risked your life for me.”
He kissed her. “Danger is what I do. For you, I’d do it again.”
It thrilled her to think he cared about her that much, made her hope.
For what?
Don’t go there, not yet, not now.
“Let’s hope I never need to be rescued again. I think my crazy traveling days might be over. I…” Kristi sat bolt upright. “My parents! Oh, my God! I fell asleep last night before I could call them. I am the worst daughter in the world.”
She jumped out of bed, naked, and glanced around, looking for her cell phone. Then she remembered she didn’t have it. She’d been abducted without it.
“Go easy on yourself.” Malik picked up his phone from the bedside table, held it out for her. “You were exhausted.”
“It’s not right
to let my parents worry.” She slipped into the bathrobe and took his phone. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He climbed out of bed, gloriously naked, his body looking like some sculptor’s masterpiece. “I’ll go take a quick shower.”
It was midnight in San Francisco, but she was pretty certain her parents would still be awake.
She dialed their land line.
Her father answered on the first ring. “Chang residence.”
“Daddy? It’s me, Kristi.”
“Meimei!” The emotion in her father’s voice put a lump in her throat. “We heard you had been rescued. We have been waiting and hoping to hear from you. Let me tell your mother so she can get on the other phone.”
“I’m here. Are you okay, Kristi?”
“I’m fine, Mom.” She did her best to maintain her composure. “I meant to call you last night, but I hadn’t really slept for days. I’ve got a concussion, and I was so exhausted I just fell asleep. I’m so sorry.”
“What matters is that you are safe. But tell me about the concussion.” Her father was a neurologist, so, of course, he would have questions.
She answered them, then told her parents what had happened from the beginning, once again breaking up when she got to the part where Peter shot Jidda, struggling for words. “He would have…”
A big hand came to rest on her shoulder.
She glanced up to find Malik standing beside her, a towel around his waist, his face shaven. “Peter would have hurt me, but that’s when Malik and his friend started shooting. Peter pointed a gun at my head, and I thought it was over. Then he dropped to the dirt, dead. Malik shot and killed him before he could shoot me.”
“Who is Malik?”
Oh. Right.
“I met him in Antarctica. We became … close.” She was pretty sure they would understand what that meant without her spelling it out. “Remember the crashed satellite and the murder on station? Malik was part of the security crew that came down, retrieved the satellite parts, and caught the murderer.”
“I’m confused,” her mother said. “The person from the State Department told us that the Nigerian military and police had rescued you.”
