Lifting his hand, he outlined her soft eyebrow, flushed cheek and stubborn chin. “At first, I tried to tell myself it was crazy.” His mouth moved into a wry smile. “But you’re not a woman I could ignore. You held my heart in your hands from the beginning.”
Leaning down, Megan cherished his lips beneath hers. “I love you,” she whispered against his mouth. “I’ll never not love you.”
* * *
“Are you ready?” Megan stood watching Luke as he picked up his medical pack from the bedroom floor. The morning had gone swiftly. Her body glowed from the continued bouts of loving him. She was already dressed in her utilities, her pack on her shoulder, helmet in her other hand. The Kevlar chafed her rib cage, reminding her of the harshness they would soon return to.
The dark look in his eyes as he hefted his pack across his broad shoulders told her he felt the same way. Neither of them wanted to leave this safe place.
“Ready.” Luke moved around the bed, reached out and grazed her cheek. Megan’s solemn face lifted. He leaned down and whispered against her mouth, “We’ve got the heart and strength to get through this.”
His kiss was cherishing and warm. Once outside that door, they couldn’t touch again. Not like this. War meant dying. War meant loss. She could lose him in a heartbeat. As his mouth lifted from hers, she opened her eyes and drowned in his glittering gaze. It was the look of a warrior, a man who would cheat death over and over again to be with her. Luke was a survivor. He’d already survived two tours. He could survive this one.
As they drove back to Bagram, they sat close. The drive was dangerous in itself, and already, Luke felt his old instincts, his alertness, returning. He wanted to protect Megan. Looking at her profile, he knew she was emotionally gearing up for their return. He also noticed the strength and stubbornness he’d come to know so well. Luke picked up her hand and rested it on his thigh. She tilted her head, their gazes meeting.
“Our love will see us through this,” he said.
At Bagram, they stopped at the hospital. Captain Hall had wanted an after-action report. Megan walked up to the nurses’ desk on the floor where Tahira stayed. Two armed guards remained outside of Tahira’s room. Luke stayed at her side.
“Oh,” the nurse said, smiling, “Tahira is doing fine! Her baby is eating and she’s got plenty of milk.”
“What about her husband, Jabbar Gholam?” Luke asked.
The nurse shrugged. “You know, I think a miracle has happened.”
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
“Gholam has been talking to a Marine colonel who came for a visit. Now, I don’t know what they talked about, but the colonel was all smiles when he came out of the room.”
Megan gave Luke a confused look.
“Maybe Gholam is going to give up being a Taliban leader,” Luke told them.
“That would be nice,” the nurse said.
“Can we go see them?” Megan asked.
“No, I’m sorry. Only staff is allowed.”
Luke studied the guards on duty at the door in the hall. “Do you know when they’re going to release Tahira?”
Moving through the computer screens at the desk, the nurse said, “In two more days.”
Megan shrugged her pack on her left shoulder. “We need to get to Ops. There’s a flight taking us back pretty soon.”
Luke nodded and thanked the nurse and they exited the hospital. A driver in a Humvee drove them over to the busy Operations building sitting at the side of the many runways at Bagram. The main air base for all of Afghanistan was bustling with activity.
As they left the Humvee and walked through the doors, men and women crowded around them. At the Ops flight desk, Luke dropped his pack on the deck and gave the scheduling sergeant their names and orders.
“You’re hitching a ride to Lar Sholtan with Captain Khalid Shaheen.” The sergeant pointed out a large glass window to the left of him. “Over there. That CH-47. Go on out. He’s waiting for you.”
Megan followed Luke as they went through the sentry gate. “Good that we can fly back with Captain Shaheen. That’s nice.”
“It is.”
The rear of the CH-47 was open and several loadmasters were putting huge pallets of supplies under cargo netting into the helo’s belly. Spotting the tall Afghan officer in his flight suit, Luke lifted his hand.
“There’s Captain Sahin!” Megan said, pointing toward the cockpit.
“I wonder if the Turk is any worse for wear,” Luke said, walking at her side.
Megan grinned. “Maybe we should ask a different question. Did Gholam get beat up by her?”
Chuckling, Luke nodded and said nothing. Jets took off on another runway into the late-afternoon sky. Their thundering engines shook the air around them.
Megan smiled as Khalid walked up and met them. “Hi, Captain Shaheen. Nice you can fly us back. Thank you.”
Khalid smiled and placed his hands on his narrow hips. His eyes danced with mirth. “I hope you had a pleasant break at our villa.”
Luke grinned. “Yes, sir, we did. Thank you.”
“It’s there for you anytime you can get away,” Khalid said.
Megan wanted to hug the Apache pilot, but stopped herself. “Thank you...it means the world to us.”
Khalid’s smile disappeared. “I know it does. My wife, Emma, and I are constantly flying, constantly in danger. We look at our villa as the only safe place where we can be alone and together. We understand your dilemma better than most.”
Megan nodded. She saw the last pallet being moved into the huge two-engined workhorse of a helo. “How is Captain Sahin?”
“She’s fine. Pissed off, but that’s to be expected. Gholam couldn’t stand her overbearing presence and locked her up in the goat barn to escape her.” Khalid chuckled. “Most people don’t understand the Turks ruled the world for a while. Aylin’s got that same fire, courage and hardheaded competitiveness of her ancestors.” Khalid glanced up at the cockpit of the CH-47. “Gholam’s lucky she didn’t rip his head off. He didn’t know she’s a black belt in karate and a qualified sniper.”
Luke became serious. “Sir, what do you know about Gholam?” He told Khalid about the information the nurse at the desk had given them earlier.
“Oh, that.” Khalid grinned happily. “Gholam has turned. He’s given his word that he’ll no longer work with the Taliban. Colonel Putnam from Kabul has gotten his word on it. And now his village will be allowed charity and all kinds of help.” Hooking his thumb over his shoulder, Khalid said, “As a matter of fact, this cargo is heading for his village. As soon as we drop you off at Lar Sholtan, we’re delivering food, medicine, clothing and blankets to his village.”
“That’s great,” Megan said, relief in her tone.
Khalid patted her shoulder. “Thanks to you. Without your influence, without being over there, this wouldn’t have happened. You know that? Did Colonel Putnam get in touch with you?”
Megan shook her head. “No. He didn’t.” Confused, she glanced at Luke, who had a slight, relieved smile on his face. “I didn’t do anything, Captain Shaheen.”
“Yes, you did.” Khalid gave her an intent look. “General Maya Stevenson has already heard from Colonel Putnam. He’s raving about your influence as a woman in the village. By being kind and helping Tahira, you turned Gholam from enemy into friend. By your example as an American woman, he saw your care and genuine concern for his wife. It turned him. Now he no longer sees Americans as the
great Satan. Well done.”
Megan was shocked. “I was constantly butting heads with him over his wife’s treatment. I didn’t see him believing anything I said.”
“Megan, you have a gentle way of being authoritative and confident,” Luke said. “Gholam might have wanted to disbelieve you, but there was something about you that made him trust you.”
Laughing and embarrassed by all the praise, Megan told them, “If anyone turned Gholam, it was Tahira, not me. He might be a big, bad warrior, but when she spoke, he melted into a lovesick puppy dog.”
Khalid traded a knowing look with Luke. “I think we are all putty in the hands of our women, don’t you?”
Megan saw Luke’s smile widen.
“No question.”
“Come on, it’s time to fly,” Khalid told them, turning and walking toward the rear ramp.
Hurrying to catch up, Megan laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Luke asked.
“You guys.”
“What? That we have the women we love? And we’d turn this world inside out to keep them safe? Love them? Adore them?”
As she stepped up on the metal ramp, Megan was thoroughly amused. Luke seemed happy and at ease. She knew they’d get through this year because they had each other. “I like being put up on a pedestal. It feels good.” She saw the gleam in his eyes, the love shining through to her. Only to her.
They walked up the ramp and slid between the strapped-down pallets in the center of the helo and chose two nylon seats. Luke took her medical pack and set it next to his. The whine of one engine and then the other filled the long, hollow interior of the bird. They put on their helmets.
Megan pulled the mike close to her lips as the ramp ground upward and locked into place with a slamming thud. The two loadmasters sat on either side of the helo at the rear.
It felt good having Luke next to her. His body, his warmth, steadied her. The helo began to tremble. She saw Captain Sahin, the Turkish woman, would be flying the bird. Just looking at her profile, Megan was reminded of an avenging eagle. Her mouth was pursed, her eyes narrowed and focused. Her gloved hands flew over the controls with confidence.
As the helo broke connection with the earth, it shook and shuddered. Megan remembered her family tradition, why she was here. Her love of being a field medic and stopping suffering was all that mattered to her. And then there was Luke. Looking to her left, Megan studied him in the semidarkness of the cargo hold. All he wanted to do was help those who suffered so much in this war.
Closing her eyes, Megan allowed the shivering of the helo to work through her. As they gained altitude and left Bagram, the rear ramp would be opened, a .50-caliber machine gun placed in the center of the deck. One of the loadmasters would then sit down, legs on either side of it, and watch for potential Taliban attack from below. The skies were never safe over Afghanistan.
Her heart moved and blossomed with a fierce love for Luke. War had brought them together, but war would not separate them. They would plan their wedding over the rest of the time left on their tours. It would be a positive against so much hardship they would endure. For now, their love would remain a secret. And every now and then, Megan knew Luke would find small but cherished ways to let her know just how much he loved her.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Colton Showdown by Marie Ferrarella.
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Chapter 1
He wasn’t one of those people who had an obsession about cleanliness. Tate Colton had never had a problem with getting his hands—or any other part of him, for that matter—dirty, if the job required it. That kind of dirt he could put up with and ignore.
But dealing with these subhuman creatures who made their living trafficking in human flesh, in destroying young lives and thinking absolutely nothing of it, was an entirely different matter. It made him want to go back to the hotel room where he was registered under his assumed name and take a shower. A long, scalding-hot shower to wash away their stink.
Once he received the assignment from his supervisor, Hugo Villanueva, he knew that going undercover in order to find and save the Amish young women who had been kidnapped would require him to associate with, in his opinion, the absolute dregs of the earth.
Dregs in expensive suits.
You could dress a monkey up in fine clothes, but he was still a monkey, Tate thought. No amount of expensive clothing could change that, or change the fact that the people he was forced to interact with were lower than scum.
He’d think more about stepping on a beetle than he would about terminating the existence of one of these cockroaches.
To look at the man who had brought him up to this particular hotel suite—his current tour guide to this underworld—someone might have thought the man was a successful businessman or the CEO of a Fortune 500 company instead of the utterly soulless lowlife that he actually was.
Impeccably dressed in what was easily a thousand-dollar suit, his guide to this lurid world of virgins-for-sale smirked at him confidently as he opened the door leading into the suite’s bedroom.
“I’m sure we can find something to pique your appetite, Mr. Conrad,” he said.
Tate scowled at the shorter man. “I said no names,” he snapped, mindful of the part he was playing in this surreal drama.
The other man laughed, enjoying what he considered to be the display of ignorance on the part of this new client.
“Nothing to be worried about. What are they going to do?” he asked, gesturing at the bedroom and the young women being held there. Each and every one of them were dressed in identical long, slinky white gowns. “Post it on the internet? None of them even know what the hell the internet is,” he stressed, jeering at the young women who were virtually prisoners in this suite. “They all live in the Stone Age. Trust me.” He patted Tate’s arm and the latter shrugged him off as if he was flinging off an annoying bug—an act that wasn’t lost on the man. “Your name—and your sterling reputation—are both safe here,” he assured Tate.
“C’mon, c’mon,” the man snapped at the young woman he was herding into the room for his “client’s” final review. “He hasn’t got all night. Or have you?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Tate, a lecherous grin spread across his angular face. “You know, if you’ve changed your mind and want to make your purchase now—” He left the sentence open, looking at Tate expectantly.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Tate answered formally. The deal was that he got to see the young women in person in order for him to finalize his choice, and then the negotiations regarding the pending “purchase” would go from there.
Inside, Tate was struggling to contain his fury. The woman he’d “requested,” “Jade,” was looking at him apprehensively like a mistreated animal afraid of being beaten.
Had she been beaten?
Tate looked her over quickly. “What’s wrong with her?” he demanded, channeling his anger into the part he was playing—a man who wanted the “goo
ds” he was considering purchasing to be perfect. He was well aware of the fact that the blue-gray eyes continued to watch his every move. Tate swung around to confront the other man. “She looks like she’s been manhandled,” he accused angrily.
The man shrugged indifferently. “Don’t worry. Nothing happened that would have left a visible mark on her.” His flat, brown eyes raked over Hannah from head to toe, as if to reassure himself that she wasn’t displaying any sign of bruising in plain sight. “That’s the one rule—other than payment up front—the boss won’t tolerate any visible marks left on the merchandise.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tate saw Hannah flinch at the label the man had contemptuously slapped on her. Merchandise.
His anger flared.
“She’s a person, not merchandise,” Tate retorted, glaring at the guard.
“Hey, at the price you’re going to pay, she’s anything you want her to be. You want a person? You got it, she’s a person.” He turned to look at the redhead he’d led out of the bedroom for Ted Conrad’s perusal. “A soft, sweet-smelling person, aren’t you, honey?”
Smirking, he slid his hand along her cheek and down the side of her neck.
It was obvious that the guard didn’t intend on stopping there.
“I’ll thank you to take your hands off her,” Tate warned darkly as the man’s hand just grazed the swell of her breasts.
Anger flashed in the other man’s eyes, but just as quickly, it subsided. The main reason he’d been told to bring this client here was to get Conrad to make his final decision so that the deal could proceed.
Apparently, it looked as if the deal was about to be sealed. The bottom line was, and had always been, money. So, much as he would have personally rather shot out this client’s kneecaps, the guard raised his hands in the air in mock surrender.
“They’re off,” he declared dramatically, wiggling his fingers in the air to underscore his point. The smirk on his face deepened as he looked at Hannah knowingly. “So, this is the one you want, eh?”
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