“Yeah, but I have to see a shrink here on base every friggin’ day for fourteen days.” Dallas had told her she had PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder, due to her torture at the hands of the Taliban. She didn’t deny it, but didn’t want two weeks of rest at Bagram with Gavin at her side ruined like that.
“Small price to pay,” he assured her. There was a lot of activity on the tarmac because it was early morning, and most flights went out then. Opening the door, they stepped inside the concrete building.
The air-conditioning was welcoming. The place was crowded with pilots, copilots and load masters at the L-shaped ops desk. Everyone was getting their flight plans and orders and making sure the materials that would be flown were really here and ready to be loaded. All Nike had to do was weave through the area to the personnel department where she and Gavin would hand over copies of their R & R orders.
Later, at Nike’s BOQ barracks, Gavin stood with her in the lobby. Men were not allowed anywhere but this area in the two-story building. They sat down on a couch in the corner away from the main flow of traffic. “Do you have a plan?” she asked him.
Grinning, Gavin said, “Yeah, I do. I have a good Afghan friend who, oddly enough, is a Christian and Moslem. They’re a rarity here, but they do exist. Captain Khalid Shaheen lives in Kabul. He was trained in America on Apaches and is the only Afghan to be flying one for us.”
“I didn’t know that,” Nike said, impressed. “I thought I knew all the Apache pilots. I know there’s a squadron based at Bagram.”
“He’s a part of that unit,” Gavin told her. “I made friends with him during my first tour. We were in the south of the country at that time. More than once, Khalid saved our bacon out there against the Taliban. I went to thank him when my tour of duty was done. We became instant friends. He’s one helluva guy.”
“So, how does this have anything to do with us?”
“Khalid was American-educated. His father is a very prominent and successful importer of Persian rugs. His mother is Irish. He and his family live in Kandahar.” Gavin hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “His family has a summer home here in Kabul, as well, but the family stays in the south. Khalid uses the home here in Kabul as his own when they aren’t here.”
“Mmm,” Nike said, “I’m beginning to get the picture. By any chance is your friend going to let us stay with him?”
With a grin, Gavin nodded. “Yes. Now, Khalid is not a promiscuous type. I’ve told him that we’re serious about one another and he’s offered two bedrooms to us.”
“That’s nice of him.” Nike smiled wickedly.
“Very nice,” Gavin said. “He’s flying in the south right now, but he’s left the key to his home with his housekeeper, who will cook and clean for us. She’ll leave after the evening meal.”
“That sounds like a slice of heaven,” Nike murmured. “This is more than I ever expected,” she said warmly.
“Khalid is a good guy. He stands with one foot in American culture and another in his country, living an interesting religious life in a Moslem world.”
“He’s got to be special.”
“One of a kind,” Gavin said. “Why don’t you do what you have to do here and then we’ll take a taxi into Kabul to his home.”
Where had the first week gone? Nike finished taking a deliciously warm bath. Once more, she thanked the mysterious Khalid for his very modern home. Bathtubs were a rarity in Afghanistan. Those who could afford such plumbing had showers only. Most of the populace washed using a bucket or a bowl. Her stomach growled. It was 0800, the September sun barely peeking over the plain of Kabul, the sky a bright blue.
Patting herself dry with the thick yellow terry-cloth towel, Nike went to the mirror. It was partly steamed up, but she could see her face. Seven days had made an incredible change. The swelling was gone. The black under her eyes looked more like shadows and her split lip had finally healed. All her teeth were solid now and her jaw no longer hurt. Touching her cheek, she could still feel some tenderness, but she looked like her old self, more or less. Her hair was curled from the humidity and she ruffled through her black curls with her fingers to push it back into shape.
Sitting down on a stool, she pulled on white cotton socks, shimmied into a pair of jeans and donned a bright kelly-green tee. Khalid’s home was cool and comfortable. Silently, she thanked the Apache pilot and wished that she could meet him in person to offer her appreciation for this gift he’d given her and Gavin.
Nike brushed her teeth and put on some makeup to hide the shadows beneath her eyes. After hanging up the yellow towel on a hook behind the door, Nike padded out into her spacious bedroom. If she didn’t know she was in Afghanistan, the bedroom would have fooled her. Khalid, it turned out, had fallen in love with American quilts. They adorned every bed in the spacious three-thousand-square-foot home. And some smaller art fabric collages hung on the walls. Of course, his father’s Persian rugs were everywhere across the bright red tile floors, too. Gavin had told her that Khalid would haunt the little towns in the U.S. to try and find another beautiful handmade quilt.
Opposite her queen-size bed hung a large quilt sporting rainbow colors and a wedding-ring design. Her room was painted pale orange and the quilt complemented the tone. She’d found out from Gavin that Khalid was not married. He would make some woman very, very happy someday. Not only did he come from a rich family, but he was Harvard-educated and had gone into the military. He worked now to get other Afghan pilots into the Apache program back at Fort Rucker. Khalid fiercely believed his countrymen should be educated so that they could handle any threats. He did not believe the U.S. and other countries should have to continue to shed their blood on the soil of his country. Afghans were independent and tried to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. That was one of the many reasons Nike respected them.
Running a bristle brush through her hair, she gave herself one more look in the mirror. Today was the day. She and Gavin would make love. They slept together at night and he did exactly what he’d promised: he held her safe in his arms throughout the night. Never once had he made any overtures. He understood as few could that, being beat up as she had, she was in no shape for such things. She was grateful for his sensitivity, which only made her love him more. It had solidified her decision to love him fully, without her past as an anchor.
She found Gavin out in the large, airy kitchen. He was at the counter and had brought down two plates. She sat down on a leather stool at the counter. “Where’s Rasa?” The thirty-year-old housekeeper had been with the Shaheen family since her birth. Rasa had never married and had been a faithful servant to Khalid at this house.
Gavin turned. “I gave her the day off.” He saw Nike’s eyes widen and then her luscious mouth curved faintly.
“I see. Great minds think alike.”
“Do they?” He left the plates and sauntered over to the breakfast counter. Leaning on the colorful hand-painted tiles, he held her sparkling golden gaze with his own.
Nike reached out and slid her fingers across his lower arm. Gavin looked incredibly masculine in his bright red T-shirt and jeans. “Oh, yes.” His brows rose and a mischievous smile shadowed that wonderful mouth of his. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to schedule a brunch instead of a breakfast. Are you game?”
He picked up her hand and pressed a soft kiss into her palm. “More than game.” And then he became serious. “Are you sure? Are you ready?”
“Definitely.” She touched her healed lower lip. “Now, I can kiss you.” Nike grinned playfully and squeezed his hand. “Let’s go.”
“Is this a dream?” he asked her.
“If it is, I want to take full part in it,” Nike told him. As he approached her, she opened her arms to him. To her surprise, Gavin slid his arms beneath her thighs and back, lifting her off the chair and into his arms.
“Where are you taking me?” She laughed with delight.
“To my room,” he said, grinning. Nike had placed her arm aroun
d his shoulders. Drowning in the desire burning in her eyes, Gavin took her down the hall, pushed open the door and brought her into his room.
Nike’s eyes widened. Large, beautiful candles burned on the dark mahogany dresser and the nightstands on either side of the huge king-size bed. “Why, you—”
“I figured it was time,” he told her gruffly as he deposited her gently on the bed.
Nike gazed up at him as he stood there, hands on his narrow hips and looking impossibly sexy. “We must have wonderful telepathy. How did you know?”
Touching his chest where his heart lay, he said teasingly, “I felt it here. Just like you did.”
“Well, get over here….” Nike whispered, a catch in her voice. She pulled him down beside her on the gorgeous quilt that covered the bed. Its fall colors reminded her of autumn in New England. The bright yellow sunflowers around the border made her feel even more joyous.
Stretching out beside her, Gavin slid his arm beneath her neck as she rolled over onto her back. Heart pounding, he moved to her side. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” he said. He leaned down, barely touching her smiling lips. Just feeling the lushness and curve of her beneath him was enough and he closed his eyes. He brushed his mouth lightly against hers.
Nike sighed as his tongue gently moved across her lower lip. She felt as if she were being caressed by a butterfly. Gavin understood this first time was going to be tender and gentle. As the kiss deepened slightly, Nike surrendered completely. She never wanted to go back. It was too good, this feeling of intimacy and deep passion. His warm breath became as ragged as hers. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she moaned as his lean, hard body connected fully with hers. The moment was magical as Nike drowned in his mouth and then felt his hand sliding softly against her cheek.
In the back of her whirling mind, Nike realized that as hard as Gavin could be, he had the incredible sensitivity and gentleness to woo her with light touches here and there, a stroke across her cheek, a teasing sip of his mouth against hers. With him, she felt safe. He was healing to her brutalized spirit.
Gavin slid his hand beneath her tee, his fingers lingering slowly along her rib cage. He caressed her flesh and moved under her shirt to the fullness of her breast. He inhaled her gasp of pleasure as he found the hard nipple. Easing the tee up and off her, Gavin allowed it to drop to the floor. For a moment, he had to look into her face, into those eyes. He got lost in their golden depths and how they shone with a hungry need of him. His desire now turning feverish, he leaned down and placed his lips upon the nub. As he suckled her, she moaned and her hips ground into his.
Nike’s world exploded into a powerful heat that leaped to life between her legs. Each suckling movement drove her deeper and deeper into starving need of Gavin. Gasping, she pulled off his T-shirt and watched the powerful muscles in his chest and arms. His chest was covered with dark hair, which only added to his sexiness. Giving him a wicked smile, she whispered, “It’s my turn.” She forced him onto his back and quickly unsnapped his jeans. In a few moments, she’d pulled them and his boxers off him, along with his shoes. As he lay naked, she appreciated Gavin as never before, and she ran her hand admiringly across his hard thigh. She whispered, “You are beautiful, like a Greek god.”
Laughing, Gavin sat up and quickly removed her jeans, shoes and socks. “And you’re a goddess,” he rasped, pinning her on her back, his hands splaying out across her arms. “And you’re mine,” he growled, pressing his hips into hers. Nike’s eyes shuttered closed as he allowed her to see just how much he wanted her.
“I can’t wait,” she whispered unsteadily. And she gripped his arms and forced him onto his back. Without waiting, she mounted him.
“I like this,” Gavin said, bringing his hands around her hips. He lifted her and gently brought her down upon his hardened length. Her fingers dug convulsively into his shoulders as he arched and slid within her hot, wet body. Groaning, he held himself in check since he didn’t want to hurt her. She’d been hurt enough lately, and he wasn’t about to be a part of that.
“Easy,” he said, holding her hips above his. “Take your time….”
Her world disintegrating, all Nike could feel was a huge pressure entering her. It didn’t hurt, but at the same time, she was hungry to inhale Gavin into her. The years without sex made her feel as if she couldn’t accommodate Gavin. When he leaned upward, his lips capturing a nipple, she automatically surged forward, engulfing and absorbing him fully into herself. The electrical jolts, the pleasure from her nipples down to the juncture between her thighs, had eased the transit. Now, his hands were firmly and slowly moving her back and forth. A moan rose in her throat and all Nike could do was breathe, a complete slave to this man who played her body like a fine instrument.
The world shuttered closed on Nike as Gavin’s hands, his lips and the hard movement of his hips grinding into hers conspired against her. She wanted to please him as much as he was pleasing her, but that wasn’t happening. All she could do was feel the heat, the liquid, the building explosion occurring within herself. Her body contracted violently. She cried out, rigid, her fingers digging deeply into his chest. And then, her world became a volcano erupting and all she could do was cry out in relief, the pleasure so intense that it just kept rippling again and again like a tsunami rolling wildly and unchecked within her. All that time as she spun out into the brilliant white light, the sensation of no body surrounding her anymore, Gavin kept up the rhythm to give her maximum pleasure.
How long it lasted, Nike had no idea. She felt herself crumpling against him, felt his arms like bands around her, holding her tightly, forever. The smell of sweat, the sensation of it trickling down her temple, her body still convulsing with joy over the incredible release and him groaning beneath her, was all she could fathom. She had no thinking mind left. The only sensations were relief, pleasure, love and wanting Gavin over and over again. Peripherally, Nike knew he had climaxed and she pressed her face against the juncture of his jaw and shoulder, utterly spent. A loose smile of contentment pulled at her lips. Her hand moved weakly across his dark-haired chest and followed the curve of his neck until she cupped his recently shaven face. She lay against him, breathing hard with him. Just the way he trailed his fingers down her back to her hips told her how much he truly loved her.
“Wow…” Nike whispered. It took all her strength to lift her head enough to look into his face. She thrilled to the thundercloud look in his blue eyes. They burned with passion—for her. “Wow…”
He chuckled, his hand coming across her hips and caressing her. “Wow is right.” Just absorbing Nike’s gleaming gold eyes told Gavin everything he wanted to know. They lay together, connected, and he never wanted to let her go. Flattening his hand against the small of her back, he slowly raised his hips. He saw the pleasure come to her eyes and to her parting lips. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to wow you all over again.”
Grinning, Nike leaned down and moved her lips softly against his smiling mouth. She could feel Gavin monitoring the amount of strength he applied to her. She was fragile in many ways and he sensed that and loved her at that level. Her lower body burned with memory and she loved how he remained inside her. Nothing had ever seemed so right to her. “I’m already ready.” Nike laughed breathily.
“It’s been two years,” Gavin told her, reaching up and framing her smiling face. “You stored up a lot of loving in that time.”
Moving her hips teasingly, she could already feel him filling her once more. That was amazing in itself. “I did.” She reveled in his hands framing her face. “Maybe we should skip brunch and go to a late lunch.”
That moment of her husky laughter, the heat of her body, the look in her eyes conspired within Gavin. “Maybe supper.”
“I’m hungry for you,” she whispered, becoming more serious. “I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you. I fought it for a long time, but that’s the truth.” Nike’s brows dipped as his hands came to rest on
her hips. “I love you. I should have told you that back at base before all that stuff happened. You have no idea how many times I regretted not telling you when I was tied up in that barn in that village. That hurt me the most—not having had the courage to tell you how I really felt.”
Whispering her name, Gavin trailed his fingers across her cheek. He saw the tears in her eyes and his heart contracted with pain. “Listen, you did the best you could, darling. Learning to let yourself love again is tough. I understood that.” And then he gave her a boyish smile, hoping to lighten the guilt she carried. “I loved you from the moment I saw you. And I knew I’d eventually get you. All I needed to do was show you that you didn’t need to be afraid to love me.”
Nodding, Nike lay down across him, her head coming to rest next to his jaw. “I’m glad you didn’t give up, Gavin. I wanted you, I really did. But I was so scared.” She felt him move his hands down across her drying back. It was a touch of the butterfly once more, as if absorbing and taking her pain away from her.
“We’re all scared, Nike,” he told her, his voice rough with emotion. “And we each had to take the time to surmount those fears. In the end, we’re pretty courageous people. We love one another. And yes, we have this tour to get through, but we’ll do it. It will be good because we’ll get to know one another over that time. Together.” He eased her chin up with his hand so that their eyes met. “Together. You hear me?”
Nodding, Nike leaned over and caressed his lips. “Together.” She saw a satisfied look come to Gavin’s face.
“Marry me.”
Shocked and laughing, Nike pushed herself up into a sitting position upon him once more. “You have this all figured out, don’t you?”
Gavin eyed her innocently. “Hey, I have a lot of time to think while I’m out there in the boonies for thirty days at a time.” Gavin reached up and caressed her curly hair. “I figure that your parents will probably want us to marry over in Greece.”
His Woman in Command Page 18
