by Pamela Clare
“I told him I’d think about it and talk it over with you. I don’t want to accept it if having me on staff would make it hard for you to do your job. I also don’t want you to get tired of me too quickly.”
He laughed out loud at this. “That isn’t going to happen. Besides, we won’t see each other as often as you might think.”
He explained that she’d be on the medical team, not the tactical team. They wouldn’t be part of the same staff meetings. Sometimes, the medical staff flew out first, so they wouldn’t always be on the same flight. Whenever they operated in a country where Cobra had a compound—Uganda, Afghanistan, Iraq, Australia, and now South Korea—she would stay in the compound while the tactical team was in the field.
“Once in a while, when people are badly injured, they’ll transport you to the scene by helicopter. On this last mission, Doc never left the jet. It just depends on the situation. Most of the time, there aren’t serious injuries—just scrapes, sprains, grazes.”
“I’ll take that over broken, bleeding bodies any day.” She opened the front passenger door for him, buckled his seat belt, then went around to the other side and got into the driver’s seat. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s your career, and you should do what interests you. If that’s working at a clinic for low-income families, you should do that. If it’s working in a busy urban ER, do that. I support you, whatever your decision.”
“You mean that?”
“Hell, yeah, I mean it. I want you to be happy.”
Even as he said those words, Malik knew she would accept Tower’s offer. At her core, Kristi was as much of an adrenaline junkie as he was.
22
Five weeks later
Kristi followed Malik into the condo. “What would you like for dinner?”
“No cooking tonight.” He took off his coat, hung it, then reached for hers. “We’re going to get dressed up and head out. I’ve got a reservation at the Palace Arms at seven. Tonight, we celebrate.”
This was a fun surprise. “What are we celebrating?”
He drew her close, smiled down at her. “Your new job. My being free of those damned slings. Besides, you’ve done a hundred percent of the cooking and cleaning these past two months. If I want to treat you, I will.”
He kissed her, soft and slow, the feel of his embrace precious. He hadn’t been able to hold her like this for eight long weeks, and, oh, she had missed it. He stepped back, released her. “Go. I’ll be right up.”
She went upstairs, washed her face, and put on fresh makeup. She was searching the closet for her favorite little black dress when Malik walked in and stripped off his fatigues. Her gaze moved over him, taking in the view. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just stay home and have crazy animal sex?”
He grinned. “We can do that afterward—and I finally get to be on top.”
That sent a flutter through her belly. “Please.”
Ten minutes later, they walked out the door, hand in hand. Malik drove, heading downtown to the Palace Hotel, where he left the car with a valet.
“Valet parking? Fancy.” Kristi took his arm, walking with him into the Palace Arms, one of the city’s most upscale restaurants. “Wow.”
The Napoleonic decor reminded her of Paris, the scents wafting through the air making her mouth water. They left their coats in the cloakroom and then checked in with the host, who picked up two menus and led them to a candlelit table in the corner.
Malik held her seat, whispering to her, his breath hot on her nape. “You look incredible in that dress.”
Was she blushing? “Thanks.”
No matter where they were, he always made her feel special.
They perused the menu and placed their orders—filet mignon and a glass of Shiraz for him, chicken marsala and Chardonnay for her.
“This is lovely. Thank you.” Kristi glanced around, ran her hands over her bare arms. “It feels strange to be sitting in public and not looking over my shoulder or wondering where the lions are.”
She’d had a few nightmares over the past weeks, but so had Malik.
Malik reached over, took her hand, his gaze soft. “It’s hard to go from fighting for your life to living in normal society. We call that ‘re-entry.’ One minute, you’re under fire, wondering if this is the end, and the next you’re buying toilet paper.”
The way he said it made Kristi laugh, but it wasn’t funny, not really. “You must have been through this dozens of times.”
He nodded, caressed her knuckles with his thumb. “It doesn’t get easier, in case you’re wondering. You just get used to it.”
Every day, Kristi found another reason to respect and admire him. She thought about what he’d just said—and unexpectedly found herself smiling.
“What is it?”
“If it hadn’t been for the bad parts, those days with you would have been the greatest adventure of my life. I want to hold onto the good memories and not let the bad stuff steal them away.”
“You got it.”
They laughed together while they ate, talking about quicksand and Kristi whispering when the lion walked by and the frantic drive across the railway bridge.
“Do you think that conductor has recovered?” Kristi asked.
“Oh, hell, no. He’s still telling anyone who will listen about the crazy tourists he almost killed.” Malik feigned a Yoruba accent. “I waved to them to go faster, but they did not. Praise the Lord, I missed them by a meter. Tourist wahala!”
Kristi laughed. “You should have seen your face when you saw that train.”
Malik smiled, then grew serious. “What I’ll never forget is the look in your eyes when you realized I had come for you.”
“I was beyond all hope—and then you were there. After so long, you were there.”
Malik got quiet for a moment, then stood and knelt before her, taking something from his pocket.
It was a ring made of string, a little bow tied on top.
Kristi stared, tears filling her eyes.
“You said you want strings, Kristi. I want them, too. I want all of the strings, starting with this one.”
“Malik.” Tears ran down Kristi’s face as she held out her hand and watched him slide the bit of string onto her ring finger. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Hold on.” He reached into the pocket of his sports jacket. “I think I’ve got something better here.”
He drew out a box, opened it.
There against the dark blue velvet sat a sparkling pear-shaped diamond, surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds, all set in white gold.
“Kristi, will you marry me and have a lifetime of adventures with me?”
Kristi stared, astonished. “Oh, God. It’s beautiful.”
She looked up, the intensity in his brown eyes making her breath catch. “Yes. Yes! I would love to marry you. I love you so much.”
As he slid the ring onto her finger, the restaurant broke into applause.
Malik walked up the sidewalk toward his parents’ front door, Kristi beside him, each of them pulling a suitcase. “If you feel like my old man is cross-examining you, don’t take it personally. He’s just like that. He used to do that to my friends all the time.”
“Don’t worry. It’s going to be fine.”
Malik hoped so.
They had flown to San Francisco last week to share the good news with Kristi’s parents and her brother. The Changs were much more reserved than his family, but they had made him feel welcome. Her father’s words of thanks to Malik had put to rest any fears he and Kristi might have had about race being an issue for him.
“Thank you for bringing my daughter home,” he’d said. “Now, I will have a son who is an American military hero. I am proud.”
Kristi smoothed her hands down her ochre-colored sweater and her black and white plaid ankle pants. “I hope I wore the right thing.”
“Now who’s nervous?” He squeezed her hand. “You’re gorgeous.”
Before they reached the door, it opened wide, and Malik’s niece Jade and nephew Kamran ran out.
“Uncle Malik!”
“Hey!” Malik scooped them up, one at a time, and hugged them, careful not to hurt his shoulders. “Kamran, man, look how big you are! Jade, you’re just as pretty as your mama. Are you two doing well in school?”
Jade nodded, her braids bobbling, her gaze fixed on Kristi. “She’s pretty.”
“Thank you! I think you’re pretty, too, Jade. I’m Kristi. Nice to meet you, Kamran. I think you’re going to be as tall as your Uncle Malik.”
Malik watched, proud to be the man in Kristi’s life. She had such a natural way with people, no matter how young or old they were. But before she could say another word, the door opened, and Amira, one of his two sisters, let out a loud squeal.
“Is that my baby brother?”
“Hey, Amira.” Malik hugged her. “I can’t believe how much your kids have grown.”
“If you’d visit more often, it wouldn’t come as such a shock.” Amira turned to Kristi and hugged her, too. “Welcome, Kristi. Let me see that ring.”
Kristi held out her hand. “Malik picked it out on his own. I just love it.”
“Malik picked this? It’s gorgeous!”
“Is that Malik?” That was Jasmine, the older of his two sisters. “They’re here, Mama!”
Jasmine rushed out and joined everyone else on the sidewalk, her husband Dustin and their two kids, Cade and Caitlyn, watching from the open doorway. “Let your big sister get a good look at you. Are you keeping out of trouble?”
“I am the trouble.” Malik met Kristi’s gaze and found her smiling. “Jasmine, this is my fiancée, Kristi.”
Jasmine hugged Kristi, too. “It’s so good to meet you.”
His mother rushed outside, a big smile on her face, and threw her arms around him. “Malik! Hug my neck, son.”
Malik hugged her tight. “It’s good to see you, Mama.”
Then his mother turned to Kristi. “Welcome to our home, honey.”
“Let the man come into the house!” Malik’s father called from the doorway. “Give him room to breathe. Good gracious sakes!”
“Hey, Dad.”
They piled back inside, everyone speaking at once. Kristi kept up with it all, answering a barrage of questions and seeming to enjoy the kids, who competed with the adults for her attention.
“We met at Amundsen-Scott Station at the South Pole where I was the station RN. You have a hamster, Kamran? What’s its name? What a pretty toy pony, Caitlyn. Yes, Antarctica. It will be two years ago in April. You want to be a ballerina, Jade? I wanted to be a ballerina, too.”
Jasmine walked over to Malik. “Well, she’s holding her own. In this family, that’s something.”
Yeah, it was.
Then it was time for dinner—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and pecan pie. That’s when Malik’s father started on Kristi, asking about her education, her job experience, her faith, her family.
“Dad, give it a rest.”
“I’m just getting to know her.”
After dinner, Dustin took the kids outside to play so that Kristi and Malik could tell his parents and sisters the whole story—how they’d met, how much they’d missed each other, how they’d gotten together again.
Kristi held tightly to Malik’s hand as she told them what she’d done to free Malik. By the time they’d finished the story, his mother and Jasmine were in tears and his father and Amira looked stunned.
His mother wiped her eyes. “You set a building on fire to save my son?”
“I had to do something. I couldn’t let them kill him.”
“Please tell me Cobra nailed those bastards,” Jasmine said.
“Cobra took out everyone at the warehouse that I missed. Then the Nigeria Police Force, with some Navy SEALs and Rangers, brought down their organization a few weeks after we got home. I’ve been recovering from shoulder surgery. Kristi has taken good care of me and is helping me with physical therapy.”
“I thought working for Cobra was supposed to keep you safe.” His father’s face bent in a frown. “Since you went to work there, you’ve been shot and now tortured and almost killed.”
“It’s the roll of the dice, Dad. The risk goes with the job.”
Then Amira smiled. “Well I don’t know about you all, but I’m trying to decide what bothers me more—hearing what those guys did to you two or seeing the two of you laughing about quicksand and lions and almost getting mowed down by a train. She’s as much of an adrenaline junkie as he is, Mama.”
“I think you’re right.” His mother stood, sat beside Kristi, wrapped an arm around Kristi’s shoulders. “I know I only just met you, but I love you for what you did for my son. I know he loves you, too.”
“He’s everything to me, Mrs. Jones.”
“From now on, just call me Mama.”
Later, when Kristi had gone upstairs to get ready for bed, Malik’s father called him into his office and closed the door.
“What is it?” These private conversations always put Malik on edge.
What would the old man have to criticize tonight?
“You’ve done well for yourself. Kristi is one special woman—brave and beautiful and crazy in love with you.”
He’d get no argument from Malik about that. “Yes.”
“As I recall, I didn’t support your decision to join the army out of high school. I had other plans for you. Well, that’s how parents are. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Malik stared at him. He would never have expected this.
His father went on. “You have served your country in a way few people can, and you’ve distinguished yourself again and again. And what you did for Kristi…” His father drew him into a hug. “I want you to know that I am proud to call you my son.”
Malik swallowed the lump in his throat, hugged his father back. “Thanks, Dad.”
Kristi looked at her reflection in the mirror, her heart so full she could sing.
In a few minutes, she would truly be Malik’s wife.
“I wish I had your cleavage.” Samantha, Kristi’s matron of honor, took Kristi’s bouquet of red and pink peonies from Gabriela, and handed it to Kristi. “There. Perfect. You’re a beautiful bride.”
“You really are stunning.” Gabriela came to stand beside her. “I can’t wait to see how Malik reacts to your gown. Does he have any idea?”
“No. I wanted to surprise him.” Kristi and Malik had chosen to have a simple Western ceremony, but she had wanted some Chinese touches.
White was the color of death and funerals in Chinese culture, while red and gold were the traditional wedding colors. So, Kristi had chosen a red satin mermaid dress with barely there off-the-shoulder lace sleeves and beading on the bodice, while Samantha, Gabriela, and Elizabeth wore gold gowns.
A knock came at the door, and Elizabeth stepped in. “Your father is coming, Kristi. They’re almost ready for you.”
Kristi drew in a breath, excitement mixing with nerves. “Thanks to the three of you for your help. Elizabeth, I wouldn’t be standing here today if not for you.”
Then the door opened and her father stepped in.
He stopped, stared, spoke to her in Mandarin, calling her by her nickname. “Oh, my beautiful daughter, my sweet Meimei. You fill your parents’ hearts with joy.”
Kristi answered in English. “Be careful, Daddy, or you’ll make me cry.”
“Before you go down the aisle, your mother and I wanted you to have this.” He held out a long, narrow box.
She opened it to find a white gold chain with a pear-shaped solitaire diamond. “Oh! Thank you! I love it. It’s beautiful. It matches my engagement ring.”
She kissed her father’s cheek.
He grinned. “For good luck.”
Samantha took the necklace and put in on Kristi. “That’s perfect.”
Then it was time to go.
She and Malik had decided to get m
arried outdoors at a resort in the mountains west of Denver. The wedding itself would take place in an amphitheater outside that had unparalleled views of the white-capped high peaks, while the reception would take place in the main hall of this same building afterward.
Kristi walked out of the bride’s dressing room to find Jade and Caitlyn waiting for her, looking adorable in their little gold gowns. “Do you remember what to do?”
They nodded, visibly excited to be part of the ceremony.
“You look so pretty,” Jade said.
“You two look like fairy princesses.” Kristi gave each little girl a kiss on the cheek. “Are you ready?”
They went downstairs as a group and walked to the edge of the amphitheater, keeping out of sight until the music began—Pachelbel’s Canon in D.
Little Jade and Caitlyn walked down the aisle first, tossing red flower petals willy-nilly and glancing back at Kristi.
She blew them a kiss.
Next went Gabriela, then Elizabeth, and then Samantha.
At last, Kristi’s father offered her his arm. “You are marrying a good man.”
“Thank you, Daddy. I was raised by a good man, too.”
They stepped off and came into view of the altar.
Kristi’s breath caught at the sight of Malik, standing, tall and proud, in his Army Ranger dress uniform, Dylan, Thor, and Lev beside him. God, she loved him. She loved him so much she thought her heart might burst.
Heads turned, a murmur sweeping through the crowd, people rising to their feet as she and her father headed down the aisle, but Kristi was aware only of Malik.
He took her hand from her father, raised it to his lips, the love in his eyes making her heart melt. “God, you look beautiful—and hot.”
From there it was a blur. Somehow, she said her vows, and Malik said his. They slipped rings onto one another’s fingers—rings presented with great solemnity by Kamran and Cade.
“By the power vested in me by the state of Colorado, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss… Oh, my!”
They’d beaten the minister to it, Malik drawing her against him, lifting her off his feet, kissing her deep and long and slow.
