Mike stopped applying the lotion, his hand resting protectively across her back. She spoke of it as if it were nothing. Closing his eyes, he wanted to find Ramin and personally kill the bastard. “Then what happened?” he managed, his voice strained.
Drawing a deep breath, Khat said, “Ramin let me sit in a cell with water only, starving me, for a week. Then he brought me out and strung me up again. The same thing happened again. Five questions. No answers. Eight lashes.” Khat felt Mike’s hand tense upon her back. “I think I’ve told you enough.”
“No,” he rasped, “I want to know everything.” If he didn’t, he couldn’t understand what she’d suffered through or how deeply it had affected her.
“I got hauled out a third time, a week after that. By that time, I had blood poisoning because no one would tend my back. The salt created so much pain for me, and I didn’t have enough water to rinse it off my back. By the time I was strung up a third time, I had a fever and was so starved, I couldn’t walk. He asked me the same questions, and I didn’t answer him. When they cut me down, he jerked me by my hair, screaming into my face he was going to rape me next time.”
“Who rescued you?”
“The women from the nearby Shinwari village carried me to one of their homes. Another woman walked to the SEAL team in a nearby FOB and got me rescued. It was an eight-man team out of J-bad. They came in a CH-47 helicopter, and the women carried me out to them. I was out of my mind with fever, hallucinating, and I still don’t remember it all to this day. You know the rest.”
Gently moving his hand across her back, Mike choked out, “I’m sorry, Khat.” His stomach rolled, nausea burning in his tightened throat.
“It’s over, Mike. That’s the good news,” Khat murmured sleepily.
“Come on,” he coaxed, putting the lotion away. “I want to lie down, pull you into my arms, and we’ll sleep.”
Khat rolled to her side and gave him a drowsy smile as he gathered her into his arms, pulling her against him. He drew up the other sleeping bag around them. His shoulder became her pillow. As she closed her eyes, she knew no nightmares would stalk her because Mike was holding her. Very quickly, Khat faded into sleep.
Mike lay awake for a long time, holding Khat. He could feel her shallow breath, her body limp against him. Rage tunneled through him. He wanted those bastards. Both of them. Stunned that she’d survived such torture, it told him just how strong Khat really was. Her body had been broken, but her spirit was intact, even though she was fractured from the trauma. Mike wasn’t sure he’d have borne up half as well as she had under that kind of torture. Khat left a lot out of her explanation, but he didn’t blame her. If she had blood poisoning, sepsis, she could have died from it. Mike knew plenty about medical issues as a SEAL, and blood poisoning was one of the major concerns for anyone. It could kill a person in as few as three days.
She’d probably been caught just in time and helped by the village women. Those brave Afghan women had risked their lives saving hers, and Mike knew it. The Taliban could have come back and scourged the village where they had kept Khat, killing them, their children and their husbands. Damn. His mouth thinned, and he was unable to wrap his mind around how much it had affected Khat on every level of herself. It increased his desire to protect her at all costs.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“WE’VE GOT HALF the trails mapped in a week.” Mike congratulated Khat as she made them dinner.
They were in the pool cave. He was working on his Toughbook laptop, sitting against the wall of the cave, the kerosene lantern shedding light. He lifted his chin, watching her make them tea. “Pretty good work. We’re a good team, Angel.”
“Half to go,” Khat said wryly, pouring the hot water into the mugs.
Outside, thunderstorms loomed over the Hindu Kush. They’d just gotten in at dawn, the lightning lacing the west. It was best to traverse and do the mapping in the dark. So long as they had some moonlight, they could do it. That and using NVGs to open up the night so their horses wouldn’t trip or fall on one of the rugged goat trails.
Mike took the mug. “Thanks,” he murmured, shutting down the laptop and placing it beside him on the sleeping bag laid out. He watched Khat come and sit near his knee, crossing her legs. Her clean hair lay damply across her shoulders. She’d already gone to the waterfall in the other room and cleaned up. The dark green T-shirt she wore with her cammie trousers emphasized her breasts. It sent desire streaking through Mike.
Khat looked at peace. As he sipped the hot Darjeeling tea, Mike wondered if it was because they were making love nearly every night. Or that he was working with her. He wasn’t sure. One thing he did look forward to were their dawn conversations with one another. They worked through the night hours, would ride back to the waterfall cave at dawn, take care of their tired horses, get cleaned up and cook a meal. The activities helped them come down off the intense danger that always stalked them in the dark, rugged mountains.
“In another week, if all goes well,” she murmured, looking over her mug at him, “we’ll be done.”
Mike heard the sadness in her voice. “Are you finding working with a partner isn’t that bad?” he teased, smiling a little. Khat’s green eyes were dark and thoughtful-looking. Every time he made love with her, Mike felt her moving closer to him, and a little further away from her work in the mountains. It wasn’t anything obvious; just a feeling. He felt like he had two weeks to persuade her on other levels, that she was worthy of being loved, and that she was allowed to have a life other than this one.
“It certainly has fringe benefits,” Khat drawled, grinning. Her body instantly warmed as he gave her that intense, hungry look. She had never felt so happy as with Mike being a part of her world. In his arms as she slept deeply, her dreams were turning hopeful, no longer nightmares about her torture. And then her smile faded. “Tell me what you’re going to do when your platoon is rotated Stateside? What do you do with those sixty days?”
Mike pulled up his knee, resting his arm on top of it, holding her softened gaze. “Well, the first week, I stay by myself and don’t do much of anything. I catch up on sleep and start to unwind from the tension combat puts you in. I’m usually pretty grumpy. I don’t like crowds, a lot of noise or the normal human things that are always going on.” He pushed his fingers through his damp hair, having washed the grit and sweat off his body beneath the waterfall earlier.
“Are you anxious?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “If a car backfires, I’ve hit the deck a number of times,” he admitted ruefully. “Sounds really get me going.”
“When I had to go back to the States to upgrade my paramedic skills, I would always fly in, and I would see my mother at a nearby motel. I couldn’t go back to the house since I was disowned.” Khat wrinkled her nose. “My mother never stopped loving me, so I always made plans to see her for a couple of days before I left for Afghanistan. I found myself feeling too vulnerable, like you. I was happy just to hide in the room and go out to eat only when I had to.”
“I’m glad you can see your mother,” he murmured. Khat’s expression was filled with deep sadness. He wanted to strangle that father of hers. “So you stay in touch with her?”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t disown you?”
“No. After it happened, my mother was very angry with my father. She cried. So did I. She said he was upset over my torture.” Her mouth quirked. “So was I. But he took it out on me, not the men who did it to me.”
“Old customs die hard,” Mike said grimly.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Khat said, sipping the tea. “My mother and I connect by emails when I can do it.” She looked around the cave. “Out here, it’s impossible. I can hook up with her when I’m at Bravo, which is nice.”
He didn’t want to say much more, his rage pinpointed on Jaleel Shinwari. Did he know what the hell his decision to disown his only daughter had done to her? Driven her more deeply into a life that was dangerous to her on
a daily basis? He shut down his feelings toward her father. “You asked what I did with my sixty days off?”
Brightening, Khat said, “Yes. So, week one you hide and acclimate?”
Grinning, Mike murmured, “That’s a nice way of putting it. The second week I grab my scuba gear and head out on a boat that a friend of mine owns, and go scuba diving in the kelp beds off La Jolla. I like hunting for abalone and spear fishing for sea bass. I bring back my haul and put it in my freezer. I eat a lot of abalone steaks and fish for that week.”
“You’re back in the water again,” she said wistfully. “A sort of healing for you, maybe?”
Mike felt his heart expand fiercely at her insight into him. Her green gaze held him in tender regard. “Exactly. SEALs are taught Mom Ocean is our safety. I found out that was true for me. Being in the water is like being held by her. It’s a soothing feeling to me. I always feel better after a scuba dive.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Khat whispered.
“I told you if you decide to rotate back this winter, and you come for a visit, I’d teach you to scuba dive.” Mike held his breath, seeing a number of emotions cross her expression. Sadness as well as hope.
“I’d like that,” Khat said, her voice strained.
“Have you thought any more about rotating out?”
“I’m torn in two, Mike.” She bit her lower lip and avoided his narrowing eyes. “I feel guilt if I leave. And I want so much more of what we have with one another.”
“These villages are stuck in snowdrifts up to six to ten feet of snow during the winter,” he said gently. “You know that better than anyone.”
Nodding, Khat closed her eyes, feeling pain in her heart. She loved Mike with a desperation she’d never felt in her life. Was she throwing their growing relationship away by staying here? What would it hurt if she left the snowbound village and stayed with him instead? Her conscience warred within itself. Every day with Mike was like an unexpected blessing in her isolated life. Just his presence brought her peace and calm. Even though they were in constant, nonstop danger, his presence shifted her whole world for the better.
Khat opened her eyes and drew a circle on the sleeping bag with her index finger. “I’m seriously thinking about it, Mike.”
“You’d want to stay here because of your family?” he guessed.
“Yes. I love them all. They love me. I feel welcomed. Wanted.” Khat met his dark gaze. “But you are making me feel loved and welcomed in another way. It’s so…beautiful…” A lump formed in her throat as she felt tears coming. Mike was showing her a bright, hopeful world. In a way, he was like a big bad guardian angel, guarding her heart, seeding it with hope and love she thought she’d never have except for her Afghan family.
Mike sipped his tea, saying nothing. It would do no good to push or argue. Slowly, he was seeing Khat realizing she had choices whereas before, she saw none. He finished off the tea and stood up. “My turn to cook dinner tonight.” He touched her cheek as he aimed himself at the grate on the cave floor. He had one more week to try and convince her to come back with him. Was there enough time to do it? They weren’t living in a vacuum here in the Hindu Kush. It was dangerous to them every time they stepped out of their hiding place.
*
KHAT AWOKE SLOWLY in Mike’s arms. He was still asleep. She could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her arm. From where she lay at his side, she could see that dusk was upon them, the light coming down through the crack in the cave ceiling. She heard the soft snort of the horses nearby and closed her eyes, absorbing his lean, strong body. His heart lay beneath her palm. A powerful wave of love washed through her.
The conversation they’d had at dusk last night flowed through her drowsy mind. Would her father’s family understand her not staying with them throughout the long, hard winter? Would they accuse her of being selfish? Self-serving? Her Aunt Leeda, her father’s older sister, was always wise. The whole family was run by this strong-minded woman. Leeda held her dear, and she always stayed with her family during the winter time. What would Aunt Leeda say? Khat wished she had elders around her who could give her an answer to her dilemma.
She felt Mike awaken, his hand sliding down her arm in a caressing gesture. Nuzzling against his shoulder, she closed her eyes, absorbing him, his love and support. Maybe, as they swung north, they could sneak in under cover of night to the village, and Aunt Leeda could meet Mike. Khat relied heavily upon her wise aunt. She didn’t know to this day whether her relatives knew of her father disowning her. If they did, it didn’t show. She was always welcome and surrounded by the women of the family, spoiled with attention and lavished with their love.
Mike groaned as Khat pressed her body seductively against his, feeling her lips linger on his cheek. “I want to wake up every day like this,” he muttered, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. He felt her mouth glide across his as she leaned over him. Turning, he lifted his hand, his fingers curving around the nape of her neck, drawing her against him. He felt the hardening of her nipples as her breasts brushed languidly across his chest. Her lips were soft, yielding, and he moved to his side, placing Khat on her back. There was nothing shy or retiring about her, and he smiled beneath her mouth.
“Did you just wake up?” he asked, kissing each corner of her mouth.
“Mmm,” she answered, sliding her fingers through his longish hair, arching against him, feeling his erection press into her belly. Opening her eyes, she drowned in his lion-gold ones that burned with hunger for her. Mike cupped her breast, and the air escaped her lungs. Her body was incredibly sensitive to his every touch.
“Like that?” he asked gruffly, holding her breast, moving his thumb closer to her hardened nipple, watching her eyes widen with anticipation. He took her mouth gently, engaging her softness, moving his thumb teasingly across her nipple. Her reaction was always the same; a tremor moving through her, a moan of need that he absorbed into his mouth, her warm, strong body arching demandingly against him.
Mike knew by the light in the cave they were late in waking up. He wanted to take his time, love Khat and lie here with her for an hour or more. But that wasn’t going to happen. There was no way he wasn’t going to love her, however.
He left her wet lips and leaned down, capturing the peak, drawing it into his mouth. She twisted and moaned, her fingers digging into his back. She was his female snow leopard, so sinuous and powerful, and she was his.
Sliding his hand down across her belly, he felt her shiver as he parted her damp thighs. She was ready for him. Cursing the timing, Mike wasn’t going to leave both of them sexually frustrated. His fingers lingered just outside her entrance, her fluids abundant and warm. Her hips flexed upward, wanting him within her. He took her other nipple, sucking strongly, feeling her gasp, writhing in his arms. As he did, Mike slid his fingers into her, feeling her walls spasm and contract around him. She was so damned hot and responsive. Hearing her breath going uneven, her fingers opening and closing frantically against his shoulder, he teased the taut peak with his teeth. Her cry of pleasure combined with him moving deeply within her, made her pant.
Mike felt the sheen of dampness from her body as he sought and found that remarkable spot within her, stroking the bundle of nerves that would always trigger an orgasm in a woman. It did in her. She cried out, her hips bucking against his hand, burying her face against his chest, sobbing for breath. He felt her body contract violently, felt the explosion of thick, heated fluids surround his fingers, and Mike smiled, holding her tight, giving her all the pleasure she wanted. Time wasn’t on their side.
Feeling Khat sink against him, her cries softening, her body going limp, he smiled and leaned down, kissing her parted lips. Easing his fingers from within her, he brought Khat against him, feeling the fine tremors still moving through her body as the orgasm rippled outward within her.
He kissed her damp brow, her flushed cheek, loving her so damn much his heart hurt. Wanting this wild, natural, passionate woman in hi
s bed, at his side, for the rest of his life, Mike knew nothing was set in stone. Even getting to hold her was a gift to him. Finally, he rasped against her soft lips, “Come on, we’ve got to get up and moving, baby, whether we want to or not…”
*
KHAT LAY ON her belly with the sniper rifle just below a ridgeline. Mike lay next to her with a spotter scope. It was midnight and colder than hell, the icy winds gusting and shrieking over the ridge where they lay. Below, they were watching fifteen Bactrian camels being led by Taliban soldiers. The camels were carrying heavy loads of what looked to be bags of fertilizer. She heard Mike calling in the GPS to J-bad, and requesting an air asset to destroy the group. Those bags of fertilizer, once they got through the mountains, would then be distributed by Taliban soldiers to the IED bomb makers throughout Afghanistan. The bags carried by the camels would kill many, many American and UN soldiers over the coming months.
Her heart was pulsing strongly. They were half a mile higher than the rat line trail the group was on below them. She listened to his quiet voice as he talked with J-bad. Usually, they rolled out a jet from their compound, and bombs would be dropped. The only problem was their being dangerously close to the drop. Khat knew that meant that if the pickled bombs weren’t right on target, they could die and be listed as “friendly fire” casualties. It wasn’t a situation she wanted to find herself in.
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