His to Protect

by Karen Rock

  She leaped into the whirling water and kicked hard against the sucking drag, her life preserver no match for the powerful force. Coughing and spitting out salt water, she flailed, trying to keep her head above the enraged ocean intent on swallowing everything. Including her.

  Dylan reached her, cradled her head in his arm and began kicking them backward, hard, keeping her mouth above water. When she looked skyward, she didn’t spot the Jayhawk and her heart seized.

  Had they lost them?

  Would she and Dylan drown?

  “Keep kicking!” urged Dylan and she put her shaking muscles into it. The injured swimmer wasn’t giving in and neither would she.

  Several seconds, minutes, hours seemed to pass—she’d lost count—as she and Dylan battled the waves before, miraculously, a rescue strop dropped directly in front of them.

  In a flash, Dylan had them hooked. Air whistled around her as they swung toward the helicopter. Larry snatched them into the cabin the moment her toes grazed the side of the aircraft.

  The cabin door slammed shut. She blinked at the crying, shaking and staring survivors and her thoughts tumbled. A deep shudder started in her gut and rattled her to her toes. She pressed her hand against the Jayhawk’s side, not trusting that she really was out of the water and here.

  Safe.

  When she caught sight of her v-fib patient, she crouch-walked to his side as the helicopter wheeled then sped. What a relief to see the IV still attached to the litter.

  She checked his vitals and tourniquet.

  Stable. Critical, but stable. Hopefully enough to get to the airport then medevac to a major hospital.

  A life saved. One for her and how many more for these extraordinary men? She looked around the cabin, deeply impressed as Dylan shrugged off any fussing over his dangling arm and began checking passengers alongside her.

  “Swimmers.” Larry rolled his eyes at Dylan. “Crazy sons of bitches.”

  “Or looking for some shirt candy,” put in Rob with a sheepish glance behind him.

  “It’s an Air Medal for sure. You, too, Cassie, if you were in the Coast Guard.” Dylan’s cocky grin was firmly back in place.

  Her gaze swerved to the cockpit and a spark, like the shock off an electric fence, went through her as she met Mark’s eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before he turned back, but the glimpse of his anguished expression tormented her. Made her want to reassure him she was fine. Not scared after all, she suddenly realized. She’d been so intent on her job, so focused on her survival, that she hadn’t been meek at all.

  The change swept through her skin, whirling in the vast spaces between her atoms, reconfiguring her into someone else—or perhaps, as Jeff had pointed out, the person she was meant to be all along.

  10

  MARK RAPPED ON Cassie’s door and stared at the stubbornly shut entrance. The wooden door felt entirely too solid for his liking. He didn’t want barriers between them. Not after nearly losing her this afternoon.

  Where was she?

  After finishing his flight paperwork, he’d headed straight to the field hospital. While Dylan, who turned out to have a broken arm and a concussion, joked and flirted with nurses, Cassie was nowhere to be found.

  After a quick shower, he’d spent an hour scouring the staging area, returning to her room three times because, as well as she’d done today, he’d been sure she’d be rattled enough to head to her quarters.

  Shouldn’t she be in bed, as wrecked by her close call as he was? She was strong, but she wasn’t inhuman.

  He needed to hear her heartbeat. Lose himself in her body. Remind himself that they were both alive and that the nightmare looping in his brain wasn’t real. He’d been powerless to stop her from going overboard.

  What if he’d lost her?

  The horrifying image of Cassie leaping off the sinking ship, her head disappearing beneath a thirty-foot swell, slammed into his brain like a gunshot. Each time he thought of it, every second since he’d landed the helicopter, he died inside.

  He closed his eyes and slumped against the doorjamb, trying and failing to shake the gut-ripping memory. How had he given the order to lower her to the deck?

  The question was a hot poker prodding his searing chest. He’d vowed to protect her and had nearly let her die. Voices down the building-length concrete veranda grew louder, followed by someone knocking on a neighbor’s door. An excited exchange rose then fell as the group disappeared. Reunited.

  His head sunk to his hands and he stood, hunched his back braced against the rising night wind. An aircraft engine whined in the distance. He felt damaged and raw, his nerve endings exposed.

  Today’s mission had gutted him. Dylan’s broken arm. The leg amputation of one of the survivors. And Cassie. How fragile she’d looked as the ocean dragged and tossed her. His breath had spun out of him and it’d taken every ounce of his training not to let go of the controls and dive into the water after her.

  “Hey. Are you okay?”

  He glanced up at Cassie’s redheaded friend. Raeanne. She shoved back wavy hair and peered at him, her thin eyebrows meeting above her nose, her metal earrings catching the overhead light. At her anxious expression, he squared his shoulders. Gritted his teeth. As for talking, that was beyond him so he simply nodded.

  When she jerked a thumb over her shoulder, her keys jangled. “Cassie’s at the canteen if you’re looking for her.”

  “The canteen?” The words burst out of him, overloud.

  Raeanne smoothed down a yellow tank top that didn’t quite meet the top of her jeans. “I just came from there to get my sweater. If you wait, we can—”

  “Thanks!” he called over his shoulder as he jogged down the porch’s five steps. His boots ground against the pebbled oceanside walk to the makeshift hangout created from one of the resort’s bars. What the hell was Cassie doing there?

  Adrenaline buzzed through him like it always did during and after such touch and go rescues. He wanted to find Cassie before that energy jolt disappeared and he spiraled so far down that he might not make it back.

  Why was she out celebrating?

  Didn’t it bother her that she could have shared her brother’s fate? This wasn’t a time to minimize what’d happened. If anything it should be a serious wake-up call.

  It’d put him on high alert. When he’d confirmed his new AST3 had arrived for tomorrow’s mission, he’d breathed a sigh of relief. Never again would he go through that hell with her.

  He shoved clenched hands into his pockets and picked up his pace. Above him the sky was dark and still, the waves bobbing politely, tiptoeing their way across the beach. A couple of servicemen jerked back into leaf-stripped hedges as he barreled by, nodding in greeting without stopping.

  Damn it. He needed her. Now. Desperation shredded his insides, ravaged his guts. The relief he should have felt when she’d emerged from the water, strapped to Dylan, eluded him. Once he had her in his arms, whole and warm, he wouldn’t let go until he assured himself she was okay.

  He jogged down to the open gate that led through a paved terrace, its whitewash worn and blistered with rust-colored lichen. Her throaty laugh stopped him in his tracks. Just ahead, the bar sign’s chains swung from the mostly bare thatched roof of the hut-like structure. USCG and Red Cross personnel surrounded a square outdoor bar. A couple of ambitious islanders poured shots of rum into plastic cups and passed them to the cash-waving, off duty crowd.

  Of all the places he’d imagined finding her, this was the last.

  Looking impossibly sexy in a short, fitted blue dress that showcased long, curvy legs, her shining hair curling just above the tops of her full breasts, Cassie had a crowd of admirers. When one of them brayed something, she tossed her head back and laughed, swatting the guy’s arm playfully.

  The sight
stopped him in his tracks. It...changed everything about her. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how wistful her gaze had been. It was as if someone had flipped on a switch. Confusion and agitation warred inside Mark’s chest.

  Didn’t she understand that she’d nearly lost her life? How precious it was—she was—to him? Then again, how would she know? He could barely admit those feelings to himself. Tight knots squeezed hard in the pit of his stomach.

  As Mark approached, Larry called out.

  “Here’s the man of the hour! Cheers to the commander for getting all of our asses home today.”

  A hearty “Yeah!” rose from the group and Cassie’s eyes sparkled at him before she downed her drink.

  “Have a shot.” Larry thrust a cup into his hand. A sharp, rich smell wafted from the sloshing clear liquid. It was tempting, given they had twelve hours of R & R before they were wheels up again. But it wasn’t even close to what he wanted. Eyes locked with Cassie’s, he downed the drink and set the empty cup on the bar with a thanks, nerves rippling through him.

  “Cassie? A word.”

  A hush descended on the chattering group and gazes swerved between him and a now sober-faced Cassie. Without looking away, she handed her cup over.

  “Be right back,” she called. Once they rounded a corner, she slid her soft hand into his. The sweet familiarity of her touch went through him like a shock.

  He hustled her behind the canteen, into what’d been a garden Mark guessed. Empty concrete pads marked where benches had stood. Uprooted and mangled bushes lay on the spongy ground. After several minutes of striving to slow his thoughts, he jerked to a halt before a mermaid fountain. Moonlight drifted across Cassie’s delicate features. How was it possible that she stood here in one piece, alive, after her narrow escape?

  He raked a hand through his hair, drinking in the sight of her. “Do you have any idea how close I came to losing you?”

  Then, too impatient to wait for her answer, he kissed her so hard their teeth collided, kissed her for each and every second that he’d spent scared out of his mind up in the air today.

  Her body trembled against his when he nipped her bottom lip, and she moaned inside his mouth, whispering his name, her head falling back and spine arching. The scents of honey and vanilla wafted from her neck, drugging him. He kissed the warm leap of her pulse at her throat, savoring the feel of her, safe and alive, the proof at his lips. Hands tangling in her hair, he combed through the silk, pressing her closer. Closer. Her hips fit to his, breasts molding against his chest.

  He kissed her harder now, wanting more. He couldn’t get enough, would never be able to get enough. He wanted her beneath him, wanted to bury himself deep inside her until he drove away his demons. Not just with his own release, but hers, again and again and again.

  “I know how close that was,” she said when he stopped to let them catch their breaths, their mouths inches apart, their foreheads pressed together. She tipped her head back and lifted glittering eyes to his, her expression electric with the same adrenaline that jittered through him. “But I can’t process it.”

  He skated his fingertips up and down her bare arms and his cock swelled at the satin feel of her. “Once the extra energy wears off, you’ll come down hard.” And he’d be there to reassure her that she wouldn’t be in danger again.

  She shook her head. “I won’t let myself feel afraid anymore.”

  His grip tightened on her arms and he dragged her close, trying to calm the storm in his head. “You could have died.” A deep shudder ripped through him.

  Her lips moved along his neck, firing nerve endings to life. “But I didn’t.” She moved closer still and plastered her body to his, her eyes drifting closed.

  “Come to my room,” he murmured against her cheek, his body tense, willing her to agree.

  Her eyes opened, bored into his, and then she smiled, a heady half smile that spoke of her own desire. She wanted him the way he wanted her. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him with a passion that made him rock hard. “Yes.”

  He kissed her backward, steering them both where they needed to go, only breaking the contact when he saw someone else on the path to his quarters. Then he tucked her under one arm and hurried her into the shadows and—finally—into his room, where he planned to make every nerve ending that had been at risk today scream.

  Inside, he pinned her against the door, his hands reaching around her back for her dress’s collar-to-hem zipper. The movement incited something in her, wresting a cry from her throat as she rubbed her breasts over his chest and broke his kiss to nip his shoulder. The zipper’s teeth came apart when he tugged it all the way down. The dress separated then pooled at her feet. He freed the hooks on her bra and slid the soft cotton off her shoulders.

  The warm silk of her skin fried his brain cells, robbing him of any thought save having her. All of her. His hands roamed across her body, palming her firm ass, tracing her narrow waist, skimming her taut stomach, then rising to cup her full breasts before moving on again, never settling in one place long enough to soothe the ache building inside.

  He stopped only long enough to remove the rest of her clothes. The soft mewling sounds she made in the back of her throat assured him she craved his touch every bit as much as he craved the feel of her skin beneath his hands.

  Her eyes went wide as his fingers dug into the soft globes of her ass and boosted her up. “I need you. Now,” he growled, impatient, desperate to feel her against him, his control held by the thinnest thread.

  Cassie wrapped her legs around his hips, and the tantalizing softness of her, rubbing his rigid cock, made him groan. Filled him with staggering need.

  As she bounced against his sensitive tip, he carried her to the bed and laid her on the mattress. He whipped off his shirt and balled it up, tossing it in the general vicinity of the television. As he quickly stripped off socks and boots and fumbled with his belt, she rose up on her elbows.

  With her hair tousled, her warm eyes gazing up at him through lowered lids, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. The need to bury himself inside her whipped through him, punishing and relentless. She nearly sent him to his knees.

  Grabbing a condom from his bedside drawer, he ripped off the foil wrapper and began unfurling it over his erection. His fingers trembled, the burning need to join with her making him clumsy. Off his game.

  But this wasn’t some game.

  Not even close.

  “Let me,” she whispered. She rolled it down his length. Her teasing touch unleashed a mad fury that howled inside and untethered his last shred of willpower.

  The bed dipped as he slid over her. His legs spread hers. This was what he wanted, what he’d tried like hell to deny, what he’d crave tomorrow even more for having surrendered himself today. Only Cassie drove him to this level of distraction.

  He yanked his gaze up to her eyes to find her staring at him with equal intensity, her emotions bared. He should look away. Focus on sex. But some sort of communication happened without his realizing it, an understanding that went beyond mind-blowing orgasms. He closed his eyes to shut it out, knowing he was too late.

  He lowered his mouth to her breast and drew on the taut nipple, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. She wriggled and writhed and guided his hand between her legs, inviting him inside.

  In one swift thrust he filled her to the hilt. Her wanton gasp echoed in his ear and he groaned at the warm clench of her flesh around him. So good. So right.

  He battled to hold back, waiting for her to adjust to the feel of him, sure that he’d explode if he didn’t regain some control.

  When she raised her hips, he whispered, “Don’t move,” willing her to understand his need to take charge after such a chaotic day. To command this moment. Master himself and the wild feelings for her that spiraled through him. He brushed his mouth
against the shell of her ear. His tongue traced its outline and made her whimper. At her back, his fingers splayed, widening, then contracting. He wanted to hold her tight and banish the sense that she’d slip away from him again.

  “Mark, please,” she begged against his mouth and his mind emptied of everything except the way she made him feel.

  Hot. Greedy. Ravenous.

  His tongue thrust deep inside her mouth, demanding. She parried and groaned, her eyes flaring wide with longing for him. Her fingers stroked his shoulders and his muscles bunched at her touch, his body taut with anticipation.

  She writhed beneath him and he could feel her heart beat, matching the frenetic tattoo in his own chest. He said her name a million times, as if to remind himself that she was here, whole and alive, and the world that’d tried stealing her from him had failed.

  Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent. If he didn’t give in to this insistent need soon, he’d explode. He broke off, his hands on her face. Her flushed skin mirrored the heat spiking through him, her nipples tinged with color. She was an incredible sight. Her lips were plump and wet; her panting breaths warm on his chest.

  “Don’t leave me.” The unconscious words ripped out of him too fast to take back. His hands slid to her breasts now, cupping and massaging, his breath thick in his throat.

  “I won’t,” she panted, winding her arms around his neck, holding on to him as if she’d never let go. The tender gesture stirred something deep within. The honey scent of her skin was intoxicating. He inhaled deeply.

  Cupping her deliciously curved ass, he angled her hips, withdrawing slightly, then thrusting inside all over again, striving for the mind-blowing rhythm that would make him forget this day and the ever-strengthening bond that anchored him to her.

  In a state of frenzy, he lifted her legs onto his shoulders to accommodate his blistering pace, giving him deeper and deeper access. He willed her to understand his need to forget. To lose himself in this.

  But she only kissed him and tantalized him, her swiveling hips an erotic tease that both set him ablaze and fueled his sense of rightness with this uninhibited woman. Her obvious pleasure was a massive sexual windup that blasted through the day’s torment, shattering it with intense, scorching excitement.