by Candace Camp
“You take care of orphans here?”
“Whoever needs us. It’s primarily a medical mission. Larry is our doctor. The children come in wounded from the fighting. Army raids. Bombings.” She shook her head and sighed. “It’s always the children who suffer most. Quite a few women come here with them. Often their husbands have been arrested or killed or have joined the fighters.” She shrugged. “So they come here to live. We’ve built up quite a little community. We’re even farming now. Did you see the fields out there?”
Leslie nodded. “And you teach them.”
“Yes.” Sister Catherine beamed. “Now I can teach them so much better with the new books Cutter brought in.” She reached over and patted Cutter’s arm.
Leslie frowned. She felt first very stupid and then very petty. All that time she’d been pissed at Cutter about endangering her project with his cargo, he had been carrying much-needed medical and school supplies for a group of children! She must have seemed so self-centered. But immediately upon that thought came another. Cutter knew what she had assumed about his cargo. Why hadn’t he set her straight? Why hadn’t he told her what he carried instead of letting her carry on about it? It occurred to Leslie that Cutter had been enjoying himself at her expense, looking forward to her embarrassment when she found out the truth. Anger began to heat up in her, and she turned to Cutter.
But before she could say anything she remembered Sister Catherine’s presence. She couldn’t blast him in front of a nun. About the time Sister Catherine left, Sister Mary Margaret returned, carrying a stack of sheets and towels topped by a bar of soap.
“Are you trying to tell me something?” Cutter looked pointedly at the soap and up at Mary with a joking grin on his face.
“Perpetually.” Mary winked and flashed her brilliant smile at him.
“Thanks.” Cutter rose and took the items, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. Unexpectedly, jealousy slashed through Leslie again. Cutter had never handled Leslie so gently.
“You know where the rooms are.” She gestured through the rear door of the large room. “You two are on the second floor, rooms 14 and 15. You can find them.”
He nodded. “No problem.”
“Good. I’ll see you later.”
“Right. Send somebody for me if you need any help,” Cutter told her.
The woman walked away, and Cutter watched her go. Leslie watched Cutter. He turned back to her. “Ready?”
“Whenever you are.”
He led her through the rear door and down a long hall with doors opening off either side. They went up a set of simple wooden stairs at the far end. Theirs were the first two rooms by the stairs and faced each other across the hall. The doors of the rooms stood open, revealing their sparse, utilitarian furnishings. A single bed on a frame without a headboard stood against one wall in each room. There was also a wooden straight-back chair, a small washstand with pitcher and bowl and a simple wooden crucifix hanging on the wall.
Cutter handed Leslie a couple of sheets and towels, a washcloth and a bar of soap. “Here. You’ll have to put the sheets on your bed. There are a couple of bathrooms down the hall. They have indoor plumbing here. It’s the Ritz-Carlton of the interior.”
He moved into his room with his share of the bedding, but Leslie wasn’t ready to let him go yet. She tossed her pile down on the bed in her room and followed him across the hall. “Just a minute. I want to talk to you.” She closed the door behind her.
He glanced at the closed door, a smile beginning. “Is that ominous or promising?”
Leslie ignored his remark. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were carrying in that truck?”
“If you’ll remember, I tried to.”
“Not very hard! Why didn’t you explain that you were carrying medical supplies, not ammunition or bombs?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t figure it would make any difference. It interfered with your job, like you said. It endangered your plans.”
Leslie’s eyes widened. “Do you honestly think I’m that callous? There’s a lot of difference between carrying guns and carrying an X-ray machine to a mission hospital! How could you believe I’d object to that? How could you think I’d be so selfish and cruel as to leave children’s books and medical supplies behind?” Her eyes narrowed. “I think you were trying to embarrass me, to make me feel in the wrong.”
Cutter rolled his eyes. “My every action is not taken with you in mind, no matter what you think.”
“Why couldn’t you have told me? Why were you so secretive? Why didn’t you tell me about Sister Mary Margaret and her mission? You could have prepared me a little. You could at least have said she was a nun.”
“Look. I had no idea you would care a bit about Sister Mary Margaret or her mission. All I’ve seen you care about is your idiot ex-husband and this trip to rescue him.”
“Of course that’s what I was interested in. How could I possibly have any interest in the mission when I didn’t know it existed?”
“You are the most impossible woman,” Cutter threw his arms up. “First you complain that I’m endangering your sacred job with my cargo, and now you’re pissed that I didn’t tell you what I was hauling!”
“If you’d explained…”
“Why? I never saw anything to indicate that you’d give a damn. You’re a cold, spoiled little rich girl, and all you care about is getting your own way.”
“That’s not true!” Leslie flared.
“No? Everything you’ve done this trip has been solely because it’s what you want to do, with no regard as to whether it was safe or practical or crazy as hell. The only thing you pay any attention to is what Leslie Harper wants!”
“Well pardon me for going after what I want!” Leslie retorted heatedly. “I’m so sorry you had to run into a woman who wasn’t selfless and meek. I realize that you’d prefer a saint, but that’s not what I happen to be.”
“A saint! What is that supposed to mean?”
“Like Sister Mary Margaret. That’s the kind of woman you’re into. All virtuous and sitting up on a pedestal, safely out of your reach. It’s the only kind of woman you can care for, isn’t it? Absolutely perfect, because you don’t have to worry about making the actual commitment of a relationship.”
Cutter’s hand lashed out and gripped one of her arms. “You haven’t got the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Leslie flung back defiantly. “I saw you look at her today. You love her.”
“Yes, I love her. Everyone loves Mary.”
“You worship her from afar. She’s perfectly safe for you to love because you know you’ll never have her.”
“You’re just full of neat little labels. Nice pop-psychology explanations that have nothing to do with reality. But you don’t know the first thing about life. Or about me.” Cutter puller her slowly, inexorably closer, while he continued to speak in a low, mesmerizing voice. “I’m close to Mary; she’s my friend. Once she even saved my life. I owe her. But I don’t want her as a woman. I’m not looking for a saint in my bed.” His mouth was only inches from Leslie’s, his pale green eyes boring into her, robbing her of will and reason. “I want flesh and blood in my bed. A woman who sins and screams and feels. And wants.”
His other hand came up and sank into the loose knot of hair at the base of her neck, and he moved those last two inches. His lips touched hers, rolling gently against her, settling in. He tasted her leisurely, exploring her sweetness without hurry. His tongue teased along the line between her lips, and Leslie found herself melting, opening to him. She felt the pressure of his teeth behind his lips, the teasing exploration of his tongue. His mouth tasted of coffee, warm and mellow, mingling subtly with the sweet juice of the papaya he’d eaten for breakfast. Leslie felt breathless and eager; Cutter stirred her in a way no other man ever had. She wanted him. Even her jealousy and anger of a moment before were swept away by the sudden, pulsing desire.
She slipped her arms around Cutter’s ne
ck and buried her fingers in his thick hair. His kiss deepened, and the hand which had held her arm left to curl around her and press her up into his flat, hard body. His fingers at the base of her skull began softly to massage the tender flesh on either side of her neck, soothing and arousing her at the same time. Leslie’s knees began to give way, and she clung to him even more tightly, her feminine curves pressing into his muscled flesh, fitting herself to him in a way that made him throb.
Cutter left her mouth to nuzzle at her ear and string sizzling kisses along her jawline and down her throat. Leslie’s head fell back, and he found the fragile hollow of her throat, teasing it with his tongue. His hands slid down her body and lifted her up into him, pressing his hard length into her. Leslie moved her hips against him, and Cutter groaned, breaking his exploration of her throat to seize her lips again. His breath came in hard, fast pants against her skin. His fingers dug into her ass, rubbing her against the thick ridge of his desire.
Almost frantically he pressed her closer to him. His hand moved up under her top, skimming along her back and slipping around to caress her breasts. Leslie shifted against him, turning slightly sideways to give him freer access. His hand curled over one breast, taking in its soft roundness through her bra. He savored the sensations, rubbing the sensitive pads of his fingers over the patterned lace, tracing her nipple, enjoying the way it responded to his touch. Leslie was wrapped in flame, and everywhere his hand strayed, her body sparked to life beneath it.
Her hands roamed across his shoulders and arms, digging into the cloth of his shirt, seeking the skin beneath. His leg moved in between hers, and she bent one knee to slide her leg restlessly up and down his. An ache blossomed between Leslie’s thighs; she was empty and yearning, and she twisted against Cutter, begging him to satisfy her without speaking a word.
He turned and lifted her, his mouth still locked to hers, and moved with her to the edge of his bed. He eased Leslie down onto the bare mattress, his long, lean body sinking into hers, trapping her in the heat of their mutual hunger.
He broke the kiss finally and sat back on his heels to pull her shirt over her head. He unsnapped the front clasp of her bra and pushed the sides away from her satin-smooth breasts. Leslie’s pinkish nipples pointed, inviting his touch. Cutter’s face was flushed, his eyes glittering. His chest rose and fell heavily with his breathing, and a thin line of sweat stained the center of his shirt. His collar was open and Leslie could see the sheen of his skin.
He moved his hands up and covered her breasts, and his thumbs circled her delicate nipples. Cutter’s eyelids fluttered almost closed in pure sensual pleasure. Leslie sucked in her breath, on fire at the touch of his callused fingers. She ran her hands up his arms, reveling in the firm muscle and the prickling of hair.
“When you came into the room yesterday after your bath,” Cutter murmured, his voice husky with passion, “I wanted to touch you so badly that I thought I’d die. You were all fresh and relaxed, and your jeans clung to you like a second skin. I wanted to strip off your shirt and look at you just like this. I wanted to taste you.”
He pressed his lips to the top of one breast. His tongue flicked out, creating a searing trail as he moved downward and found the hard point of her nipple. Leslie groaned out his name; her nails digging into his arms. Cutter’s mouth was hot, but his tongue was a thing of fire. It scorched her, lashing, then soothing, her swollen nipple. Involuntarily Leslie twisted, raising her hips from the bed and pressing firmly into his hard length. Cutter made an inarticulate noise and pulled her deeper into his mouth, sucking hungrily.
There was a rap on the door. It wasn’t loud, but it seemed thunderous in the emotionally charged hush of the room. Cutter raised his head sharply, his eyes wild. The knock came again. “What do you want?” Cutter growled.
A small voice answered in Spanish, of which Leslie understood only the words “Hermana” and “Maria.” Sister Mary Margaret. Suddenly, rudely, Leslie was back in the chill world of reality.
“Tell her, ‘Later,’” Cutter replied roughly, which brought forth a rush of words from the other side of the door. Cutter groaned. “The generator can wait.” Under his breath, he added a foul and quite impossible description of the machine.
But Leslie was already wriggling out from under him and grabbing embarrassedly for her shirt and bra. “No, please. Go ahead. Don’t let me keep you from Sister Mary Margaret.”
“Leslie, come on.” He reached for her, but she eluded him, pulling on her shirt. She wadded up the bra, clenching it in her fist, too angry and humiliated to care that she was probably ruining her La Perla. The top was on backward, but at least she was covered. She crossed her arms over her chest and retreated to the far wall of the room. Cutter sighed. “The kid says the generator blew when they hooked up the new X-ray machine. They’re eager to get started using it. If I don’t go fix it now, Larry’ll be up here in a minute with the nuns on his heels to find out what’s keeping me.”
“Of course.” Leslie struggled to appear cool and unconcerned. “Go ahead. I really didn’t mean to get into this, anyway. I’m sure the sleep will do me more good.”
He snorted. “Like hell it will.” He rolled off the bed and adjusted his clinging jeans. He pointed a forefinger at her. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Leslie shrugged and looked away. Cutter muttered a few more curses and charged out the door, almost knocking over the youngster waiting outside. Leslie waited until she heard Cutter’s boots clatter down the stairs, then slipped out of the room and across the hall. She closed the door. To her dismay she found it had no lock, but she hooked the straight-back chair beneath the knob. That would have to do. Cutter surely wouldn’t knock down the door with all these people around.
She made up her bed in record time, fueled by her anger at both Cutter and herself. Sure, Cutter wanted to sleep with her, even though most of the time he despised her. But when Sister Mary Margaret snapped her virginal fingers he was off in a second to do her bidding. And Leslie had let him see how much that upset her! Leslie fumed as she tore off her clothes and slammed them onto the floor. He cared nothing about her, at all, and she’d just proved him right in everything he’d said about her wanting him, even knowing how he felt about her! It was humiliating, the way she melted at his touch. Well, from now on she would make sure he wouldn’t get another opportunity. She wouldn’t be around him unless there were plenty of other people there, too. With that firm resolve, Leslie threw herself onto her bed and closed her eyes. But it was a long, long hour before she finally drifted off to sleep.
***
Leslie managed successfully to avoid Cutter most of the rest of the day. When she woke up in the middle of the afternoon, she carefully opened the door a slit. Her suitcase sat outside in the hall, and the door to Cutter’s room was closed. Leslie breathed a sigh of relief. He must be asleep. She pulled in her case and took out some fresh clothes, choosing, since they were in relative civilization now, a simple sundress that she had rolled up and sneaked into the bag after Cutter’s culling of her clothes. She simply had to get out of the practical jeans for a few hours, at least. Then she took the clothes, towel and soap to the bathroom down the hall and had a leisurely bath. She gathered her freshly washed hair into a French braid.
Afterward, she wandered down the stairs and out into the courtyard. There were children all over the place, playing in little clumps, running, laughing and shouting. Two women sat on the ground, watching the children while their fingers flashed in and out weaving palm fronds together. Leslie wandered aimlessly across the yard, studying the various buildings and wondering what they were used for. Sister Mary Margaret stepped out onto the porch of the structure that looked like a small residence, a stack of papers clutched in her hand. When she saw Leslie, she raised her other hand in a friendly wave.
“Hi. Did you have a good nap?” Mary swung off the porch and walked over to her.
“Yes, it was very pleasant, thank you. So was the bath.”
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“Good. So… would you like to be shown around the place?”
“Yes, I’m very interested.”
“Great. Let me dump this bunch of red tape on Catherine’s desk, and I’ll take you.” She motioned for Leslie to come with her. “Might as well show you Catherine’s domain while we’re at it.”
The school area consisted of two small rooms behind the large meeting room in the dormitory. Catherine was perched on one of the child-size chairs beside a low table, boxes open around her and books stacked everywhere. She looked up at their entrance with an unself-conscious smile. “Hi! Look what Cutter brought me. I’ll never find enough space for it all.” She winked at Leslie. “I should have such problems more often.”
“More forms to fill out,” Mary announced, and planted the pile of papers on Catherine’s desk. “I’m showing Leslie around. Want to give her the four-star tour of the school?”
“Love to.” Catherine set down her stack of books and jumped up to take Leslie’s arm. After an hour exploring the school and learning all about the children’s programs, Sister Mary Margaret pulled Leslie away and led her back to the house-like building. Leslie discovered that it was the medical area, consisting of two exam rooms, an office, a small surgery, an overnight ward and a tiny bedroom. “This is where I sleep,” Mary explained. “We usually have a child or two in the hospital, so we need someone near at night. I don’t know, though. Now that we have the X-ray, we’ll have to put it someplace. It’s either here or the office.” She shrugged. “Oh, well, we’ll work it out. I’d rather have the machine, no matter what we have to move.”
“Did, uh, Cutter get it fixed?”
“What? Oh, the generator? Yeah. An hour or two ago. If you need to charge your cell phone, you can do it in here. The rooms don’t have electricity.”
“Oh, thank you, yes,” Leslie said with relief. Keeping her cell phone charged had been challenging, even with the backup battery and travel charger she had brought.
