A SEAL to Save Her

by Karen Anders

  He’d had a solid childhood, even with his dad’s deployments. With the use of modern technology, his dad had always been there, even when he’d been working overseas.

  He loved his job. Being a SEAL was it for him. Career. Battle always brought with it danger and the very real threat of death.

  Death was unavoidable in war. It was a stone-cold fact. But the thought of losing Tyler, who was as close to him and as deeply entrenched in his heart as his brother, Rock, was unbearable. Hell, maybe deeper. Dex had fought with Tyler, watched Ty’s back as much as he’d watched Dex’s. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Tyler. And to lose him because Dex had somehow either miscalculated or screwed up would be even worse.

  It tore him up that his sister was here. A family member he’d only heard great things about. Sad things, too.

  He would take the comfort she offered because he needed it. He had to let all this go. Only an idiot would bottle up emotions and never give them free rein.

  The ache in his throat intensified, and he swallowed, an agony of emotion clogging his chest.

  After he was spent and the purge was over, he let her go. The loss of Spaceman—damn, his ridge boss, his friend, his tactical genius—it was too much. Slim Jim, who had just become a father, and—dammit, his eyes teared up again, his chest hurt—DJ. Man, he was going to miss him so damn much; him and his humor were often all that kept the platoon going when times got tough. Leaning back, his side protesting with each move, he wiped at his swollen eyes and met her gaze. “This is a hell of a way to meet Ty’s sister,” he said, his voice raw and raspy.

  “Well, I would have preferred a family dinner or a barbecue, not a hospital in a war-torn country where people are trying to kill us.”

  Ah, thank God, the beauty had a sense of the ridiculous, which only helped to make this just a tad less awkward. He cracked a faint smile, nodding. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Piper.” He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. That’s when he got a really good look at her. She resembled Tyler a lot. But his hair was darker, where she had a mane of tawny gold hair and heartbreaking whiskey-hued eyes with dark, thick lashes. But where Ty’s features were masculine, hers were pretty in a quirky way, not elegant, but cute. Her eyebrows were darker than her hair; her chin was delicately angled, but definitely set with determination. At odds with her all-American looks, her mouth was lush, exotically full and covered with a smooth layer of plum-colored lipstick. Funny that the lipstick made him homesick.

  Okay, one thing was for certain. That RPG hadn’t rattled his brain too much. He was still thinking like a man.

  About Tyler’s sister!

  Suddenly he had an insight into exactly why Rock resisted getting involved with Tristan Michaels’s sister Neve. Maybe he would lighten up on his brother in that respect. Maybe.

  “Once we’re all home and I’m in DC, I think I will take you up on that.”

  She smiled and wiped at her own cheeks, reminding him that they had all been through two hours of hell.

  “Tyler’s pretty upset and heavily medicated. I’m not sure if he’s thinking straight, but he was worried they weren’t telling him the truth about you.”

  He got that damn lump in his throat again. “Then let’s go prove it to him.”

  Alarmed and not yet sure about whether he was joking, she stared at him. “What? You’re wounded. I promised the nurse I would only be here for a few minutes, not get you up and walking.”

  “Tyler is what’s important here, not an injury that took some stitches to close.” He gritted his teeth and pushed back the blankets. She looked horrified that he was actually going to stand.

  “Dexter...maybe you should rethink this...”

  He gave her a firm gaze with those intense blue eyes and his mouth tightened. “Nope. I want to see Ty before he’s shipped off to Germany. I kinda need that myself. Could you indulge me here? Give a wounded warrior a hand?”

  “A wounded warrior, huh?” she said, giving him a hard, I’m-on-to-your-plan-mister stare. At his innocent look, she sighed and huffed out a short laugh at his obvious manipulation, as if she was well aware he was just like any other hardheaded man. He grinned at her and, even though his side protested rather loudly, swung his legs and set his feet on the floor.

  She moved to his side and helped him stand. She smelled really good, like some kind of floral fragrance and the essential female scent that he’d missed since being deployed two hundred and twenty days out of the year. It eased some of the pain to have this strong woman helping him.

  She slipped her arm around his waist, covered in the flimsy gown, and accidentally threaded right through the opening in the back to his bare skin.

  Hoo-rah, that surely made him realize that all his parts were still working as nature intended. He was well aware that her hand was only inches away from his completely buck-naked ass.

  He was going to chalk up his hard-on to adrenaline overload, deployment and being male.

  “Oh, the joy of hospital gowns.”

  Even raw, he chuckled, thinking that was the way the world worked. The living kept on living, moving forward and letting go. Not just yet, but with time, he would. Damn if he wasn’t liking her even more. “Robe’s over there,” he said as she kept her arm around him and stretched to reach the garment on the chair. She snagged it and helped him into it, wisely leaving it unbelted.

  “You’re cool under fire, huh?”

  They slowly headed for the door, dragging the IV stand with them. “I’m a lawyer’s daughter and come from a long line of politicians. My two brothers, one older and one younger gave me a run for my money, too. So, I hold my own. I’ll arm wrestle you once you’re 100 percent. I would never take advantage of a wounded warrior.”

  At the door, he huffed a laugh. “Ah, caught in the middle, were you? I have the distinct pleasure to be the baby. I have an older brother...”

  “Russell—nickname Rock—former RECON marine, tough son of a bitch, owns Rockface, a sporting goods store. He and his best friend, Tristan Michaels, run it. He was also a former RECON marine. Engaged to an NCIS agent, Amber. Do you want me to go on?”

  “Wow. You know a lot about me,” he said as two agents fell into step behind them, keeping a discreet distance.

  “You are Tyler’s favorite subject.”

  He had to stop moving as the affection—brotherly love—he held for Tyler churned him up all over again. His chest expanded with the rush of ragged emotion blindsiding him.

  “We can rest if you’d like,” she said solemnly. “I didn’t mean to make this harder, Dexter. It’s just that Tyler loves you as much as our brother, Edward, and me, I think. You’ll have to become an honorary Keighley, for sure.”

  He turned his head away and massaged his eyes, but it was clear she’d already seen the effect her words had on him. He had to get control of himself before he saw Tyler. He didn’t want to make it any worse for him. He had listened to Ty talk about his sister and her strength throughout all the hardship their family had endured over the past three years, especially with her losing her husband and child. It was as if he knew this woman.

  “That is for sure. I’m racking my brain, trying to remember if I told Ty about any of the skeletons in my closet or deep dark secrets.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I wrote them all down in my diary and put them under lock and key.”

  He laughed; it pulled his side and he grunted with the pain. She had him laughing through his tears. “Thanks. I needed that.”

  She nodded and their gazes met and held. Suddenly he felt hot, and it seemed as if the very air around them ignited. She really had the most unusual colored eyes. For a few moments, they stared at each other until someone cleared her throat.

  He turned to see Nurse Davis standing there with her hands on her hips. She was giving Piper what Dex considered
a direct-order look.

  “Uh-oh,” he said under his breath.

  “Lieutenant, I’m sure you’re going to have a perfectly plausible reason to be gallivanting around the hospital after you’ve just been through a terrible explosion. If you rip out those stitches...”

  “I do have an awesome reason for being out of bed. It’s a fellow SEAL who needs some reassurance that I’m not lying in the morgue right now. Before he’s shipped off to Germany, he needs to see me alive. Is that good enough?”

  Her features softened and she sighed. “Yes, that’s good enough. At least let me get you a wheelchair.”

  “No,” he said through gritted teeth. “It’ll have more impact if I’m walking, and to tell you the truth, it feels good to be moving around.”

  “Senator? You got him?” the nurse said, her concern obvious.

  Piper looked up at him and he got another jolt through his system at the way her eyes went over his face. “Yes, I’ve got him.”

  She sure had.

  As they walked away, she said wryly under her breath, “I’ll try not to keep you in stitches.” She cut him a sly look.

  He laughed again and she smiled. “Really, I’ll be here all week. I must be punchy from that wonderful plane ride. Military transport is always so comfortable.”

  “Seriously, do you want to pull out all my stitches? Just think how much trouble we’ll be in then.”

  She winced. “Sorry.”

  Had he made her nervous? Was she responding to that...whatever it was...that had passed between them? This was, again he reminded himself, Tyler’s sister.

  They hobbled the rest of the way to Tyler’s room. As he entered, he moved away from her and walked the rest of the way on his own steam.

  He swallowed when he saw the kind of shape Ty was in. His right eye was swollen shut and there were many scrapes and bruises on his face. His right leg and arm were heavily swathed in bandages. He had tubes and wires connected, but when Dex approached, he smiled a very relieved smile and his good eye, though dazed, brightened.

  “Hey, buddy,” Dex said, returning his smile.

  “LT... Dex. It’s good to see you. You okay?” Ty reached out with his good arm, and they clasped forearms, both grasping tight.

  “Me?” He sat gingerly down next to the bed. “You’re the one who spent most of our time here in surgery.”

  “They said you saved my life.”

  “Yeah, well, at the time it seemed like a good idea.”

  Tyler laughed, then winced. “Don’t make me laugh, man.” His eyes darkened. “DJ...man, I can’t believe it. Slim and Spaceman. What a loss.”

  “I know.” Dex’s chest got tight again.

  Tyler said, “You don’t think it’s all your fault, do you, LT? Because that intel was good.”

  “Yeah, the intel was good, but something went wrong, Ty, and I have to take the responsibility for that.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Ty said again, looking mutinous.

  “Don’t get your shorts in a twist. I’m sure I’ll hear from the brass soon enough.”

  Ty nodded. “They’re shipping me off to Germany.”

  “I’ll see you back in the States. I promise, Ty. Your job is to get well.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “Yeah, it’s a damn order.”

  Ty reached out again, but Dex simply leaned in and gave him a quick, hard hug.

  Dex looked into Ty’s eyes and Ty looked into Dex’s; no words were uttered, but Dex had never before, and probably never would again, have a louder conversation.

  He rose and gave Ty one last look, then he started walking out of the room. He heard Piper say that she’d be right back just as the room tilted a little. He made it out, but had to lean against the wall for support.

  “Dexter?”

  “I think I’ll take that wheelchair now,” he said. His buckling knees had her slipping her arm around his waist again as she instructed one of her detail to get a nurse.

  As the guy ran off, Dex looked down into her sweet face. “Hey, thanks for the way you came to my rescue back there.”

  “You’re welcome. I know something about loss. Not the same kind, but I’ve been there.”

  “Also, thanks for being a sport about getting me here.” He closed his eyes. “It meant a lot to me and to Ty.”

  As Nurse Davis came briskly with the wheelchair, he had to let go of her to sit down. It would most likely be a while before he saw Tyler’s delectable sister, so before he was wheeled away he looked his fill.

  Back in his room, he settled against the mattress. “Do you need anything for the pain?” Nurse Davis said, her voice all of a sudden quiet and soft.

  “Admit it,” he said with a smile. “I’m growing on you.”

  She tucked him in and smoothed down his blanket. “As one of my most stubborn of patients. Oh, yes.”

  “One? I’d better work a little bit harder,” he said, and this time, tough, no-nonsense Nurse Davis smiled.

  He closed his eyes, his wound throbbing from just below his armpit all the way to his waist. The gash had been deep in spots, but especially over his ribs. He was hurting, but his commanding officer was supposed to be here shortly.

  “Something mild,” he said. “I need to be lucid for a debriefing.”

  “Really, Lieutenant...”

  “Just until he leaves, Christina.”

  His firm tone and his use of her first name brought that stern look back. Then she shook her head. “All right. I’ll be right back.”

  As she left, he heard her speaking with someone and her voice was soft and breathy. Then Captain Jeff Davis walked into his room and Dex’s brain told him to jump to attention. He wasn’t expecting the boss of the whole of Naval Special Warfare Group ONE.

  “Sir,” Dex said.

  “I’m here on official business, and not to see my beautiful wife. You better be behaving for her.”

  “Your...wife.”

  “To the letter,” Nurse Davis said, returning with his medication. She made goo-goo eyes at her husband and then left.

  The captain pulled up a chair just as Commander Todd Hodges, the leader of SEAL Team Three, entered the room, and he pulled the curtain for privacy.

  He’d brought his own chair, nodded to Dex and sat down.

  “Sir?”

  “I want your assessment of your previous op,” Captain Davis said.

  “I think those marines were nothing more than a smoke screen and they were killed just moments before we arrived. I think they were waiting for us, not because they knew we were coming for those men, but because they knew when we were coming. We were ambushed.”

  Jeff looked at Todd and he nodded.

  He lowered his voice. “Lieutenant, we have a situation. After the smoke cleared on that cluster in the desert that robbed us of three of our best men and three damn fine marines, we found the body of a mercenary, or merc. An American by the name of Martin Carter, dressed exactly like an insurgent. After further investigation, we discovered he took on high-end types of jobs.”

  Dex swore through gritted teeth, the medication his nurse had given him not even touching his pain. His face contorted. After being in this war-torn country for almost a decade, he had met and killed some of the worst vermin alive—soldiers for hire. Men and even women who’d pull a trigger for money.

  “We thought you should know. Think about it and report back to us if you have any information that can help. In the meantime, we’re shipping you back to the States.”

  “Captain...”

  “No, Dexter. You’re going back to fully recover, and that’s a damn order. I’m not losing another man. Oh, and we’re awarding you...”

  Dexter groaned; he didn’t give a damn about another medal.
He wanted to make sure that the men who’d died, men who’d trusted him, were avenged. Guilt washed over him.

  “...the Navy Cross, so get used to it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The captain leaned in. “By all reports you saved lives out there and risked your own.” He reached into his pocket. “I think it’s time that junior grade was removed and we can make you a full lieutenant.

  “Ten-hut,” the captain said, and Hodges stood to attention. He opened the box and pulled out the lieutenant bars and pinned them to his gown. Then both Captain Davis and Commander Hodges saluted him.

  He saluted them back, gritting his teeth against all the emotion welling up in him. Anger, frustration, pain and loss all got mixed into his being made a full lieutenant.

  The captain offered his hand. “Thank you, Lieutenant Dexter Kaczewski, for your service.”

  He shook the captain’s hand, then his commander’s. “We’ll make this official as soon as you’re well enough to don that dress uniform.”

  “Yes, sir. About the op...”

  “This isn’t on you, Dexter. This op may have been compromised. We don’t know for sure. I’ve asked the secretary of the navy for help and he’s going to assign NCIS to look into it. There will be a thorough investigation. Petty Officer Carver...Mike served with me when I had my own team. I know this is a blow. He was an exemplary SEAL,” the captain said, his eyes gleaming with memory.

  “Yes, sir.” Feeling ineffectual and helpless in the face of this information, Dex clenched his fists. SEALs were all about action, and he was out of the game. Nothing against NCIS, but he wanted to look into this himself.

  He’d contact those NCIS agents assigned to find out the people responsible for this act of treason, and he’d ride them like new recruits until Dex had answers that would allow him to sleep at night.

  He vowed that silently to Spaceman, Slim and DJ.

  * * *

  Piper was dog-tired one hour later as she said goodbye to her drowsing brother and they loaded him up and shipped him to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany. They had moved him out earlier than expected. She’d already talked to Edward, and she was going home as soon as the transport with a seat with her name on it landed in another two hours.