by Karen Foley
As soon as she stepped into the function room, Elena realized she needn’t have worried. There were dozens of people inside, all of them talking or laughing together in small groups, and none of them paid her any attention. Several even smiled at her in a friendly, offhand manner. The lights had been dimmed to a pleasant glow, and a bar had been set up along one wall. The music was loud and upbeat, and a cloud of cigarette smoke hung suspended near the ceiling. Most of the people were men of varying ages and although all of them wore casual clothing, it wasn’t difficult for Elena to distinguish the active-duty military from the civilians. If their haircuts didn’t set them apart, their physical conditioning did.
Elena skirted the crowd and sidled over to the bar, where bottles of alcohol were lined up alongside plastic cups and an ice bucket. When she didn’t see a bartender, she looked around, uncertain.
“It’s an open bar, hon, so help yourself.”
Elena turned to see a woman approach the bar beside her and liberally pour herself a glass of white wine from an uncorked bottle. She was older than Elena, probably in her forties.
“Are you sure? I mean, who provided all of this?”
The woman smiled and gave Elena a friendly wink. “You know the old adage—don’t ask, don’t tell. All I can say is drink up, because you never know when we’ll have this opportunity again.”
That was the truth, Elena thought bleakly. Just thinking about what lay in store for her in the days and weeks ahead made her unaccountably homesick for her cozy little apartment back home. Despite the fact that she’d volunteered for this deployment, right now she couldn’t think of a single good reason for being here. Most people who volunteered did so because they had some patriotic calling or felt the need to support the troops in some way. Others did it for the money, which was in itself a huge incentive. But not her.
Nope.
She’d come because she’d had something to prove. Because she’d wanted everyone—her sister and cheating ex-boyfriend included—to see that she could be spontaneous and adventurous. She’d wanted to kick-start her life back into gear, but right now she just felt out of place and oddly alone, even in the midst of the party. She’d been excited about going to Baghdad, knowing she’d be just one of hundreds of civilians, and that the quality of life there was pretty good. But the prospect of spending six months at a remote outpost in the wilds of Afghanistan was another matter altogether. Quite frankly, it scared the hell out of her. She recalled Major Dumfries’ assurance that they hadn’t lost a civilian yet, but found little comfort in her words.
“I haven’t seen you around before,” the woman continued. “Where are you stationed?”
“Oh, I just came in from the States three days ago,” Elena explained. “I’ve been waiting for transportation to Baghdad, but just found out this morning that my orders have been changed.”
The woman nodded sympathetically. “That happens a lot. Where are they sending you now?”
Elena squinted, trying to recall the name of the base where she was headed. “Some forward operating base in Afghanistan. Shangri-la?” She laughed. “No, that’s not right, because I’m pretty sure this place isn’t paradise.”
“Do you mean Sharlana?”
“Yes! That’s the place.”
The woman’s face grew sober, and she took a long swallow of her wine, avoiding eye contact.
“What’s wrong?” Elena asked, dread uncoiling in her stomach. “Do you know something about Shangri-la that I don’t?”
The woman lowered her cup and sighed. “Didn’t you hear? The Taliban attacked a U.S. base just forty miles north of Sharlana last night. Eight civilians were killed.”
What?
Elena stared at the woman. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, yeah.” The woman gave a bitter laugh. “There are no military stationed there. Rumor has it that the civilians who were assigned there—including the ones who died—had ties to the CIA, so the base is probably only used by intelligence personnel.”
Elena blew out a hard breath. “That’s awful.” She hesitated. “Has anything like that ever happened at Shangri-la, er, Sharlana?”
“Not that I know of, but then again, there’s a Marine expeditionary unit stationed at Sharlana to deter any attacks.” She smiled at Elena. “You’ll be perfectly safe.”
That was the second time that day she’d heard those words, so why did she have trouble believing them? With a groan, she grabbed the nearest bottle and proceeded to pour several fingers of a pale green liquor into a plastic cup. She tipped it back, swallowing the entire contents in a single, long gulp and then gasped as the alcohol burned the back of her throat and made her eyes sting.
“Whoa, take it easy,” admonished the other woman, watching her with a mixture of astonishment and admiration. “That stuff’ll knock you on your ass.”
“Oh, good,” Elena gasped, as warmth seeped through her body. “I’m actually in need of a little technical knock out.”
The woman laughed. “Suit yourself. Just remember that you’ve been warned. Good luck, hon.”
Elena watched the woman saunter away before she poured herself another glass of the green liquid, this time filling the cup. The alcohol had left a pleasant taste in her mouth, a sweet mixture of black licorice with minty undertones. She took a hefty swig, swirling the liquid around on her tongue and enjoying the flavor. She never drank anything other than wine or the occasional glass of beer, and now she wondered why. This stuff was delicious.
“Careful there. You know what they say about the Green Devil.”
The voice was deep and amused, and something inside Elena quivered in response. She turned to see a man leaning negligently against the bar, watching her. A broad-shouldered, lean-hipped man with a face that could have graced any number of different magazines, from guns and hunting, to high fashion. The appreciation in his eyes, combined with his lazy smile, caused a rush of heat to slide through her veins that had nothing to do with the liquor she’d just consumed.
He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, and her first thought was that he had a body designed for battle—or a woman’s pleasure—honed to masculine perfection and sculpted in a way that she’d read about but had never actually seen up close. He had impossibly chiseled cheekbones and a mouth that would put a Renaissance angel to shame. In the indistinct light, she couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, and his dark hair was cropped close in a distinctly military style. He was altogether delicious.
Elena wanted to bite him.
The thought came out of nowhere and shocked her so much that she started, sloshing the alcohol over her fingers.
“Green Devil?” she repeated lamely, sucking the liquid from her fingers and trying not to stare.
He nodded toward the cup she held. “Another name for absinthe.” Reaching out, his hand closed around the cup, his fingers brushing against hers and sending a quicksilver thrill of awareness through her. “Did you know this stuff was banned in the U.S. until just a few years ago?”
“No, I had no idea.” Elena watched as he swirled the cup in contemplation. “Why was it banned?”
He raised his gaze to hers, and one corner of his delectable mouth lifted in the barest hint of a smile. “The government believed it contained hallucinogenic properties, and could cause a person to lose their sanity.”
Elena had absolutely no doubt that it was true. In fact, she was certain that she was hallucinating at that exact instant. What other reason could there be for the vivid images that were flying through her head? Images of this man, naked and gleaming with sweat as his body moved with purpose and strength over hers, his muscles flexing as he drove into her. She could actually smell him, a mixture of pure, male sex and something subtle and spicy, and the combination made her feel intoxicated.
Oh, yeah. She had definitely lost her sanity.
She passed a hand over her eyes and gave a shaky laugh, trying to dispel the erotic imagery. “Wow. I had no idea. I guess I owe you a big thank-you for savi
ng me.”
“Chase McCormick,” he said, extending a hand. “Always glad to be of service.”
Oh, if only!
Elena reached out, and his fingers closed warmly over hers. Hardly realizing she did so, she stepped closer to him. The only thing she was conscious of was a slow heat building low in her abdomen, and how her breasts felt full and tight.
“Elena de la Vega.” Was that her voice that sounded so husky and breathless?
He smiled, and the floor shifted beneath Elena’s feet. The man was more gorgeous than he had any right to be, but when he smiled…sweet mercy!
“Easy,” he said, and set the cup aside to grasp her beneath her elbow. He dipped his head to look into her eyes. “You okay? For a second there, you looked as if you were going down.”
Now there was an idea.
How long had it been since she’d pleasured a man with her mouth? On that score, her sister Carmen had been right. Her sex life had been boring and predictable, and as much as she’d like to put the blame fully on Larry, he’d had no trouble trying something risqué with his new girlfriend. Which meant Elena must be the one with the problem, and it was way past time she did something about it.
Now she looked at Chase McCormick, and just the thought of tasting him…of having him in her mouth…caused ribbons of lust to unfurl low in her belly. In fact, just thinking about touching this man caused her heart to beat faster. She had no idea who this guy was, and yet here she was, contemplating doing risqué things with him that she’d never done with Larry.
Her eyes slid over Chase again, admiring the broad thrust of his shoulders and the way his T-shirt hugged the contours of his pecs and his flat stomach. She wanted badly to touch him.
She’d worked with dozens of military guys over the years, and while several of them had made their interest in her clear, Elena had never been tempted into a relationship. For the most part, they’d been too masculine, brimming with testosterone and confidence. She’d known instinctively that a man like that could overwhelm her, both physically and emotionally. The last thing she needed—or wanted—was to be dependent on another person for her own happiness. She’d seen what that kind of neediness had done to her parents and had vowed she wouldn’t make the same mistake.
But as her gaze drifted over Chase’s leanly muscled physique, she couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to be with him, to let him overwhelm her.
To lose herself in him.
He was the sort who would take his time with a woman, ensuring her pleasure before reaching his own. He would be assertive, playful and maybe even a little kinky. For one wild instant, her imagination surged. Images of Chase, wearing nothing but his dog tags, played through her head as she envisioned all the things they could do.
Then she remembered that after tonight, she would leave for some godforsaken outpost in northern Afghanistan where there was a real possibility, however small, that she would be killed. In that instant, she regretted every wild, crazy, impetuous thing she had never done. For instance, she’d never had casual sex, and had never engaged in a one-night stand. Instead, she’d deluded herself into believing she was happy having mediocre sex with Larry Gorman.
But she still had tonight to make up for all those years of self-denial, and somehow she had a feeling that this guy could make it all worthwhile. Withdrawing her hand from Chase’s, Elena deliberately picked up the cup of absinthe.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, smiling. “In fact, I’m better than fine, and if this stuff makes a person insane, then I want more.” Without taking her eyes from his, she tipped the cup back and drained the contents, willing herself not to cough on the strong alcohol. When she’d swallowed it, she delicately licked her lips and gave him what she hoped was a seductive look. “Because tonight, I intend to go a little crazy. Wanna come along for the ride?”
3
CHASE SWEPT HIS GAZE over the woman, trying not to let his surprise show, trying not to let her see how much he wanted to accept her offer. She’d caught his attention the moment she’d walked through the door, alone and looking a little apprehensive. He was certain she didn’t work at the embassy; she lacked the self-important swagger so common among the State Department personnel. That meant she was a Department of Defense civilian or a contractor, either just coming into the Middle Eastern theater or leaving it. He hoped like hell it was the latter.
She appealed to him on a primal level, from her lustrous dark hair and suggestive smile, to her full breasts and shapely ass. He wanted to do things with her that he had no business doing, not when he was leaving for a yearlong deployment. What could he offer her, or any woman for that matter, beyond a single night? Then again, if he were to take her proposition seriously, it seemed that was all she was interested in. A single night.
The prospect was tempting. More than tempting, especially considering he was looking down the loaded gun barrel of enforced celibacy. Twelve long months of it. Even if the military lifted the ban on sex during deployments, he wouldn’t be doing the horizontal tango with anyone. Females in uniform were off-limits, end of discussion.
But this particular female was something altogether different. He’d stake his life on the fact that she wasn’t in the military, so technically he wasn’t prohibited from getting involved with her. Besides, he was more or less off duty until dawn, when he’d board an Apache helicopter and fly to the forward operating base that he’d call home for the next twelve months.
“Dance with me,” he commanded softly and caught her hand, pulling her toward him.
She came willingly into his arms, and he slid one hand to the small of her back, holding her just close enough that he could feel the heat emanating from her body and smell the fragrance of her hair. There was no dance floor, so he simply swayed with her where they stood, enjoying the sensation of just holding a woman in his arms. Of holding this woman. Her breath fanned his neck, and he had to resist the urge to pull her even closer. Her scent filled his head and made him want to bend her over his arm and bury his face against her skin.
“Well, this is nice,” she drawled, tipping her head back to smile at him, “but not quite what I had in mind.” Her voice was rich with suggestion. As if to emphasize her meaning, she sidled closer, so that her breasts pressed against his chest.
Chase’s body responded instantly to her nearness, tightening until he was uncomfortably aware of his own arousal pressing against the zipper of his jeans. He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. It was just too freaking unbelievable that he should meet this gorgeous woman in the middle of Kuwait, the night before he was due to deploy. Didn’t it figure?
“What’s so funny?” she asked. Her eyes were liquid dark pools in the dim light.
“Nothing,” he answered. “So tell me something, Elena de la Vega. What the hell are you doing here?”
She shrugged. “I heard there was a party, so I decided to check it out. Now I’m glad I did.” She swayed unevenly and did a quick shuffle to steady herself, leaning heavily into him. “Whoa,” she laughed. “I’m feeling a little dizzy.”
“That would be the absinthe,” he remarked drily, holding her secure. “It has a way of sneaking up on you, especially when you guzzle it by the glassful.”
“Mmm, but it feels so nice,” she said, sliding one hand over his chest, ostensibly to support herself.
Chase had to agree. Everything about her felt nice, but he hadn’t yet reached the point where he’d take advantage of an intoxicated woman, even as his lower body urged otherwise. He had three younger sisters, and he’d kill any guy who tried to do with them what he was contemplating doing with this woman. Even if he hadn’t been outnumbered by females growing up, his parents had raised him to treat them with respect. His father, a career military man, had drilled one adage into his young head: women were weak and it was a man’s job to protect them. Mostly, though, Chase just avoided them whenever possible. Women were a complication he didn’t need at this point in his life. Maybe one day, when his
combat days were over, he’d allow himself to get serious about a woman. But not now.
He shouldn’t let this woman affect him, shouldn’t let himself feel such a primitive desire to possess her. He knew enough about the human psyche to realize it was perfectly normal to crave sex on the eve of battle, so to speak. It was a way to reaffirm life. But Chase had no intention of dying, and as much as his body desired release, he wasn’t interested in a one-night stand.
“How long are you staying here in Kuwait?” he asked. Except for the embassy personnel, the hotel usually served as a temporary staging area for Americans while they waited for transportation to their final destination. Most people only stayed for a night or two before they moved on.
“Hmm?” She was leaning against him, and now she tipped her face back to gaze dreamily at him. “Oh, I leave tomorrow.”
“Are you heading back to the States?”
She smiled. “I’m going to Shangri-la.”
Chase frowned. Shangri-la?
“Paradise on Earth,” she continued. “I can hardly wait.”
“Okay, you know what?” Chase tucked her against his side and steered her through the crowd toward the door. “I think you need to go to bed.”
“Ooh, I like that idea.” She giggled and would have tripped if he hadn’t been holding her. “Are you going to tuck me in?”
Chase gritted his teeth against the erotic images that swam through his head. “I meant that you need to get some sleep,” he clarified. “But yes, I’ll walk you back to your room.”
“So what do you do for a living, Mr. McCormick?” she asked, as he led her into the hallway. “You’re not an accountant by any chance, are you?”
He glanced down at her with an arched eyebrow, but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Sorry, no. Er, what floor are you on?”
She stopped, pulling him to a halt beside her. The lights were brighter in the corridor, allowing Chase to get a good look at her. Her Spanish heritage was evident in her fine bone structure and flawless skin, and he saw that her eyes weren’t dark as he’d originally thought, but a light shade of brown that reminded him of caramel, the irises thickly ringed in black. She was striking.
