“Is your boss in Kandahar happy with your progress?” Tara knew that Navy Seabees were coming in to make the small airport at Tarin Kowt accessible to larger aircraft. Right now, it was a yellow dirt strip just outside the village, and they were resupplied by helicopters.
“Yeah, real happy.” Dave rubbed his chin, which was rough from a thick growth of beard. None of his men had shaved since coming to the country. They wanted to melt into the Afghan population as much as possible, to become chameleons so the Taliban couldn’t single them out. That provided a modicum of safety—except in Tara’s case; she couldn’t grow a beard. During the day, though, she usually wrapped a white swath from her turban across her nose and lower face so that all that showed were her luminous blue eyes. And from a distance, no Taliban soldier could know she was American, a soldier or a woman. Still, Dave lived in terror of her being hurt. He wasn’t sure how he would handle it if Tara did get wounded—or worse, killed in the line of duty. His heart just didn’t want to go there.
“Hey, tonight, when we get to our room, I have a special surprise for you,” he said, grinning over at her before returning his focus to the road. They eased down the last slope and he picked up speed, heading toward the village, where a few oil lamps shone in the darkness.
Her heart speeding up momentarily, Tara smiled. “Oh?”
“Yeah, something special I ordered for you the last time I talked to the supply sergeant back in Kandahar.” Absorbing her sparkling blue gaze, he felt his heart swell with joy. He was discovering he wanted to do little things for Tara. She never complained about the long hours, the choking dust, the lack of facilities or anything else. Truly, she made him proud she was an army officer. His men, too, had come to respect her, and were absorbing her into the “family” as a result. To them, she was like a little sister that needed taking care of, and she treated them all like big brothers. A lot of his fear that she wouldn’t assimilate had been nothing but prejudice on his part, Dave realized.
Now, he was glad Tara was with them. It perked his men up. They enjoyed her company, because Tara could tease just as mercilessly as they could. Yes, with her special presence, Dave had seen Tiger 01 lighten up, laugh a lot more and relax, even though they were in combat conditions.
“I like surprises,” Tara confided.
“Good,” he said with another smile.
Tara had taken a cooling shower outside the house in a device that Sergeant Lovell had specially made for her and the team. The shower was a simple thing, but being able to wash the sweat and that fine, irritating dust off her body at the end of the day was a delicious feeling. It was the highlight of her evening. Aware of the degree of modesty required of a woman in Afghanistan, Tara had borrowed several of Halima’s cotton shifts and they hung below her knees.
Toweling her freshly washed hair, she entered the house quietly and padded to the munitions room. The door was open. Dave had showered earlier. A sputtering oil lamp on a dusty table provided the only light in the tiny area. Shutting the door quietly, she turned and stepped around Dave, who was sitting cross-legged in his T-shirt and a clean pair of fatigues. His boots were off, his long feet bare.
“You look beautiful,” he observed as Tara sat down on her pallet only feet away from him. Her hair was spiky from being rubbed dry with the green towel.
“Thanks…I don’t know about ‘beautiful,’ but I sure feel wonderful getting cleaned up.” Running her fingers through her hair, she found her small comb and quickly tamed the strands into place. Looking up, she smiled at Dave. “Okay, do I get my prezzie?”
“Prezzie?” He drowned in her luminous eyes, darkened by the night shadows. Only the dancing yellow light of the oil lamp allowed him to see her features.
“Yeah, that’s what my family calls them—prezzies. Short for presents or gifts.” She held out her hand. “Well?”
Laughing softly, Dave pulled out a small sack and handed it to her. “I’m afraid it isn’t wrapped….” he said apologetically.
“Hey, we’re at war,” she murmured, taking the sack and placing it in her lap. Quickly opening it up, she gasped. “Oh! Hand lotion!”
Something warm and melting moved through Dave. The joy in her soft cry sifted through him like a sigh of pleasure. “It’s not much…. I asked the supply sergeant if he could wrangle some. I saw your skin peeling and I knew you needed some protection….”
Without thinking, Tara rose up on her knees, threw her arms around Dave’s broad, capable shoulders and kissed him on the mouth. It was a swift peck, meant to thank him from the bottom of her heart for his sensitivity and thoughtfulness. She’d never complained about her itchy skin, but he’d seen her suffering, noted it and had done something wonderful for her.
“Thank you, Dave,” she whispered, her arms still around his shoulders, her knees touching his. “You are so thoughtful!”
Tara’s unanticipated kiss unhinged him. When she remained so close, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears of gratefulness, he lost control. The driving need to touch her, to kiss her, overwhelmed him.
“I need you,” he rasped, and, lifting his arms, he brought her fully against him. If Tara had hesitated, tensed or shown any interest in being released, Dave would have done so instantly. But she didn’t. Instead, as he slid his arm around her waist and brought her into his embrace, her body folded and melted gracefully against his. When he looked down into her uplifted face, saw her eyes huge with desire, he knew she wanted him to kiss her. He was old enough, experienced enough, to recognize the look of desire on a woman’s face.
Leaning down, he slid his arm around her lower back and captured her hips so that he could feel the warm softness of her breasts and abdomen against his body. As he brushed her lips the first time, he heard and felt her sigh. Her mouth was soft, beguiling, and as he moved his lips across hers, he felt her smile. When her arms tightened and she pressed herself more fully against him, Dave shuddered with heightening desire. This time he claimed her mouth, now wet and slick, with a deep, searching kiss. She tasted minty, and he realized she’d just brushed her teeth. The clean smell of Tara, that womanly fragrance, entered his flaring nostrils and he drank it in like the starving man he was.
And when she returned his hot, hungry kiss, her mouth equally eager for contact, and her fingers moving slowly across his skull, tangling in his short hair, another, deeper shudder rolled through him. He slid his lips across hers in a commanding but cajoling manner. Breathing raggedly, Dave felt her breasts rising and falling quickly against his chest. How he wished they were naked! His mind was turning to mush. His heart was banging like a sledgehammer in his chest. He wanted Tara. All of her. Now.
Running his hand upward, he moved his fingers across her damp hair, down her slender neck and then cupped her jaw, imprisoning her so he could tangle his tongue sinuously with hers. When he heard her moan as she arched against him, her breasts taut, the nipples hard and insistent against his chest, Dave groaned. Tara was just as needy as he. It was mutual.
He eased his mouth from hers and placed kiss after kiss on her broad brow, her closed eyelids, the soft skin of her cheek and down the slender column of her neck. The shift she wore covered most of her body, so Dave pressed a kiss on her partly exposed collarbone and allowed his fingers to move in a caressing motion across the fullness of her breast.
Tara moaned again.
Leaning down, he placed his lips against the fabric where the peak of her breast thrust upward. As he suckled her, she cried out softly in pleasure and her arms tightened around his neck. His heart arced in joy over giving her such happiness.
And then reality struck him. He couldn’t make love to her here. At least, not now. Easing his lips from her hardened nipple, he found her mouth and kissed her deeply once more. Tara was vulnerable, the kind of partner he’d always wanted and never found. She was bold, hungry and equal to him in every way. Opening his eyes, he cradled her in his arms and reluctantly eased her away from him enough so that he could look into her eyes.
Her fine nostrils were flared and her hands stroked his neck restlessly. Dave absorbed her touch as she slid her fingers through his short, thick hair, to his shoulders and back again in gentle, caressing motions.
Tara gazed up into Dave’s dark, narrowed eyes, which burned like fire. Heart hammering, her lips tingling wildly from his passionate kiss, she found she couldn’t speak. It was impossible. She could only feel. And then feel some more. When he lifted one hand to graze her hair, cheek and chin, she saw a sad smile shadow his strong, male mouth.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking,” she said huskily.
“Probably. Wrong time. Wrong place.”
“I know….”
He studied her ruthlessly, memorizing each nuance of her shadowed face. “But I’m not sorry it happened, babe. Not in a million years, if you want the truth.”
Laughing breathlessly, Tara slid her fingers up the bristly stubble on his cheek. “Oh, I’m not sorry, either. Just surprised at myself. Normally, I’m not this spontaneous.”
His lips curved in a feral smile. “Remind me to bring you another present tomorrow night.”
Tara knew they must keep their voices down, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, squelching the sound of her laughter. Dave was grinning like an alpha wolf—at her. As if she was his mate. It made her feel extremely feminine and wanted. Desired.
Brushing strands of drying hair from her brow, he sighed. “This is mutual, right?”
“Yes…”
“I never expected something like this to happen, Tara.”
“Neither did I. I wasn’t looking for a man, to be honest.”
“And I wasn’t looking for a woman. Not after I got burned so badly by that divorce….”
Sighing, Tara snuggled into his arms and rested her head against his shoulder. “We can’t have a full-blown affair under Khalid’s roof. Islamic law is strict about that, and I don’t think it would go over well under the circumstances. We have to sleep together because there isn’t anywhere else for us, and he knows that. But to make love…”
“Yeah,” Dave said grimly, “I agree with you. I don’t like it, but I know you’re right. We need his loyalty, and his trust. We can’t go around breaking religious laws that would force him to view us differently.”
Looking up into his dark, rugged face, Tara whispered, “I like being kissed by you, Dave. It was wonderful. Better than anyone else—ever.”
Preening a little, he said, “Yeah? Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not just saying it because of the hand lotion for your skin?”
“Oh! Get out of here!” She playfully hit his shoulder. “I’m not that easy, Johnson. Never was. Never will be.”
Sliding his hand over her warm, firm arm, he said, “So, this attraction to me has been brewin’ for a while?”
“Yes.”
“Ever since I laid eyes on you at Ops, I’ve wanted you.” He saw her lips part momentarily. And then that luscious mouth moved into a teasing smile.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I guess my attraction to you didn’t hit me over the head at Ops,” Tara admitted. She rested her hand against his chest. Beneath her palm, she could feel the heavy thud of his heart. “Over the past week, I’ve gotten to see you differently. The way you treat your men, the people here in the village. You’re surprising.”
“Not the Neanderthal you thought?” He chuckled, absorbing the feel of her fleeting touch as she ran her hand down his arm. He needed to touch Tara, to have this incredible contact with her. It fed his soul. It fed his heart.
Giggling, one hand over her mouth, she nodded.
Leaning down, Dave brushed her brow with a slow, warm kiss. He felt Tara sigh, felt her arm move around his neck to draw him close once more. Groaning softly, he whispered near her ear, “I’m starving for you, babe. You make me feel again in every way. I never thought another woman could do that. Never. But you have….” And he pressed several small kisses across her damp hair, her temple, cheek and, finally, her waiting mouth.
Cherishing Tara was so easy. Dave didn’t want to stop kissing her, but he knew he had to. Sleep was a precious commodity, and neither of them ever got enough under the circumstances.
Easing away, he saw the tenderness burning in Tara’s eye. There was no question that what he saw glistening there was love—for him. That startled him as nothing else could. They hadn’t known each other that long. Was it possible to fall in love so quickly? Dave didn’t know. And he was scared—for them. And for the uncertainty of life under combat conditions.
“Whatever happens,” Tara whispered as she touched his bristly cheek one last time, “no one can know of us. Or how we feel. Not even your men.”
Letting her slip out of his arms, Dave eased her onto her pallet, next to his. “Agreed.”
“Whatever we have, it will take the test of time, and I’m okay with that,” Tara said, studying him in the silence. “Are you?”
“Yes. We need the time, babe. Especially me. I’ve been burned by a relationship before. I just never expected you to crash into my life and make me look at things differently.”
“I wasn’t in need of a man,” she told him wryly. Tara took the bottle of hand lotion and opened it up. She knelt there facing him as she smoothed some onto her peeling face.
Dave watched her smile as the lotion began to lubricate her sunburned features. “Here, give me the bottle. I want to put it on your arms….”
Hesitating fractionally, Tara smiled. Giving him the bottle, she sat with her legs crossed beneath the shift. Lifting her right arm, she closed her eyes as his rough fingers slid provocatively from her shoulder downward. The lotion smelled of roses, and she reveled in the simple act he was performing. She absorbed the gentle, sliding touch of his strong fingers across first her right arm, and then her left. When he was finished, she opened her eyes.
“That was wonderful….”
“Maybe we can do small things like this for one another….” He handed the lotion back to her. Seeing Tara’s eyes narrow with desire, he smiled slightly. “That is, if we can control our basic, primal needs.”
Grinning, Tara set the lotion aside and lay down. Drawing the thin cotton blanket up to her waist, she faced Dave. “I’m the guilty party. I attacked you first.”
Sliding down on his pallet, a mirthless smile on his mouth, he said, “I kind of like being hunted…it’s a new experience for me. And I really like your feistiness, you know that?”
“Comes with being a female.”
Dave reached over and touched the strands of her drying hair against her cheek. “A fighter by nature.”
“Better believe it.” She thrilled to his grazing touch and saw his eyes burn with desire—for her.
“And I was dead wrong about my belief that you might not be able to handle combat situations with us.”
“My heart be still—an apology. Wow…”
“You really know how to pour salt in this poor guy’s wounds.”
“Yeah, my heart bleeds for you, Johnson. I remember the nasty guy who stormed up to me at Ops growling that I wasn’t fit for combat duty.”
Raising his brows, he sighed. “I guess I do have this coming…”
“In spades, so take your medicine like a good little boy, be gracious in defeat and I promise to stop pouring salt in your wounds, okay?”
Oh, the urge to raise up on his elbow and kiss that smart, feisty, smiling mouth of hers was nearly his undoing. “I’m really beginning to like women warriors.”
Pleased by his lack of arrogance in admitting he was wrong, Tara whispered, “Go to sleep, Dave. It’s taking everything I have not to scoot into your arms and do some really wild woman things to you….”
With a groan, Dave flopped on his back and put his arm across his eyes. “Lady, you sure as hell know how to tease and tempt me….”
With a soft snort, Tara muttered, “And you don’t think I don’t feel the same way? I’ll see y
ou in my dreams, okay?”
Lifting his arm, he peeked at her grinning features. “Yeah, it’s the only safe place for us to work out our torrid fantasies with one another, isn’t it?”
Squelching laughter, Tara couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. “Good night, Captain.”
“Yeah…right…good night, Captain…”
Chapter 4
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Tara murmured to Dave as they sat in a deep crater from a bomb dropped by a B-52 bomber a week ago. Dressed in her Afghan soldier outfit, a turban on her head and her M–4 rifle nearby, she crouched with him on the chewed-up dirt at the bottom of the depression where it was safe. Right now, the rest of their team was out on a mission to the hills surrounding Deh Rawod, a hotbed of Taliban soldiers.
Dave grinned and spooned up a bite of food from his packaged MRE—meals ready to eat. “Not exactly the turkey day I would like to have had.”
Tara nodded. “Hey, this is better than nothing, under the circumstances. At least that supply sergeant was thoughtful enough to give us turkey MREs.”
Dave smiled and continued to eat. The day was cool, and the walls of the crater around them provided a modicum of protection from both the wind and possible snipers. “If you were home right now, what would you have done for Thanksgiving?” he asked, studying Tara’s sunburned features and peeling nose. He hadn’t been able to get her another bottle of lotion and that bothered him. It was a small thing, but important to him. Her face had turned several shades darker from being exposed to the merciless Afghan sun in this mountainous desert. He himself looked more like an Afghan every day, with his dark beard and skin turning tobacco-brown from the constant outdoor activities.
Tara sighed and leaned back on the soft dirt, the flak jacket chafing her skin as it always did beneath the vertical striped white-and-brown shirt she wore. “I’d probably go home for the holiday. I have a lot of leave saved up. I’d help my mom make the turkey. I make a killer stuffing, Johnson. You’d pig out on it.”
In Love and War Page 10
