Читать книгу Course of Action: Crossfire - Lindsay McKenna - Страница 13

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Chapter 3

Where was Cait? Dan lay sweating in a pool of pain in his bed, his leg hitched up, and he was unable to move. He hated the catheter and hated being confined to bed. He didn’t sleep at night because of the nightmares about Ben’s death. If he so much as twitched the wrong way, those damn screws would feel as if someone had poured scalding water around each of them, the agony nearly unbearable. He could always opt for more morphine and knock himself out for hours at a time, waking up feeling half-alive. Or half-dead.

He was desperate to see Cait. It had been two days since she’d washed him, blushing the entire time. He didn’t dare tell her how good her hands had felt on him, sick son of a bitch that he was. Even now, he was thinking about sex. With her. But he’d been thinking of that with Cait forever.

It was after dinner and the ward was quieting down. Most of the men were lucky. They were not prisoners to their beds because they’d had their injured legs amputated. They were mobile in their wheelchairs, going for physical therapy daily while he was left alone in an empty ward. He envied them in one way but was glad he still had his leg, so he suffered in silence. Never would he ever take walking for granted again. Or being able to move around. Or getting up and out of bed when he wanted to.

“Hey,” Cait called from the door, walking to his bedside, “how are you doing, Dan?” She automatically slid her hand over his shoulder.

“Cait...you aren’t a dream, are you?” he croaked.

She grinned. “No. Some guys, when they know they’re coming to work with me in PT, have nightmares, though.”

He grunted and turned his head toward her, drinking in her fresh, clean look. Her red hair was gathered into a loose topknot, slightly askew, giving her a girlish look. She was wearing the unflattering light blue scrubs, but they couldn’t hide her willowy body from him. “You’re never a nightmare in my dreams.” Damn, but he was loose lipped. Seeing the surprise flare in her eyes, Dan muttered, “It’s the morphine. Never mind me...” Well, it was a lie, but he didn’t want Cait to realize how much she meant to him. Had always meant to him. His flesh radiated heat where her small, slender hand rested. She was gently grazing her fingertips up and down his forearm, as if to soothe him.

“Really? Dreams about me? Tell me about them?”

Not a chance. They’re X-rated...

He needed to distract her so she forgot what he’d said. He licked his dry lips and gestured weakly toward the nearby table. “I’m thirsty as a horse. Could you?”

“Sure.”

Her hand left his arm and Dan groaned inwardly. He wanted Cait to keep her connection with him. The deep, aching pain in his leg went away when she made contact with him.

Coming back with a glass and straw, she placed it between his lips. “So, you have dreams about me, huh?” She gave him a wicked look, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he chugged eight ounces of water in no time. Pulling the straw from his lips, she felt her breasts tighten. Dan had such a male mouth, chiseled and strong. Cait lost count of how many times she’d dreamed of him kissing her.

“Well,” he muttered, wiping his mouth, “a few. Can I have another glass of water, please?”

Cait returned, sliding the straw between his lips once more. Heat flared in her lower body as her fingertips brushed the corner of his mouth by accident. Instantly, she saw his eyes narrow, the burning look in them startling her. Cait knew the look of a man who wanted his woman. Dan wanted her? Shaken, she held the glass steady as he drank the entire contents.

“You were really thirsty. Why weren’t you drinking through the day?” she asked, pulling the tray over and setting the emptied glass on it.

“I don’t know,” Dan grumbled irritably. He gripped the covers and released them. “I hate being trussed up like a pig going to slaughter.”

Cait smiled softly, coming closer, one hand on his lower arm and the other resting on his shoulder. “It’s very hard, Dan. I wish...I wish I could do something more to help you, but you’re on my appointment list in a little over five weeks from now.”

“You could sleep with me.” He raised his brows, eyeing her hopefully. At first she blinked. And then she flashed that wide smile of hers, eyes dancing with mischief. Dan had joked around with her a lot throughout the years. She thought he was teasing her, but he wasn’t. Still, it was nice to see her reaction. To see the interest in her eyes. There was no other way to interpret what he saw, and it filled him with a rush of hope he didn’t dare think about. “Not every night, of course. But it would sure be nice to have you in my arms, beside me. That way I could forget about my constant pain.”

Cait gave him a rueful look and shook her head, touching his jaw, which needed a shave once again. “You haven’t changed at all, have you, Dan?”

He swallowed a smile. “I’ll never change, Cait. What you see is what you get.” Dan patted the mattress. “Come sit by me, right here.” Damned if he didn’t see momentary hesitation laced with outright yearning for him! What the hell? Was he so drunk on morphine that he was imagining her reaction? He had to be. Cait had never given him any outward sign that she was the least interested in him as a man. Until now. Dan swallowed hard, falling into her shimmering green eyes.

“Well...” Cait hesitated, looking toward the rest of the ward, “it wouldn’t be right...against regs and all.”

“Is that all that’s stopping you?” He said it half in jest, half seriously. And he wasn’t smiling. Her smile slipped, worry coming to her eyes.

“I’m a by-the-rules girl, Dan. You know that. And I know you guys in Special Forces don’t do rules, and like to break however many of them you can get your hands on.” She forced a smile, looking at her watch. “I’ve got to run...”

“What? A new boyfriend?” He kept his teasing light, just as he always did.

“Boyfriend?” Cait wrinkled her nose. “Not a chance, Dan. I’m done with men.”

“Uh-oh,” he murmured, giving her a wicked look. “Then that means I’m out of the running, too? No longer a contender for your hand, Cait?”

Her smile instantly softened. She reached out, touching a strand of brown hair near his ear, tugging on it. “When haven’t you been the one?” she demanded, her voice oddly husky, her smile slipping. “I need to run, Dan. I’ll try to drop by tomorrow sometime. Get some sleep. I worry about you.” She leaned over, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Dan felt shock ripple through him as her warm lips grazed his flesh. He could smell her scent, smell her spicy cinnamon shampoo. His lower body roared to life. At least this time he was covered from his waist down. As she eased away, Dan caught her hand. “Hey,” he growled, “I need at least one kiss a night to help me sleep. You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you, Cait?” He looked solemnly into her widening eyes. “Just one kiss. Anywhere you want to plant it on me. It’s a natural sleeping pill, didn’t you know?”

She grinned and tugged his hair playfully. “Get out of here, Taylor! You’re that same bad boy I’ve always known. With your usual bag of tricks.”

Dan released her hand. “And you love me because of that. I know you do, Cait Moore.”

Her smile slipped a lot, her eyes growing somber. She squeezed his hand. “Yes, you’ve always been the good bad boy in my life. You make me laugh when no one else can. And you make me smile.”

“And I’ll keep doing it,” Dan promised, easing his hand from hers even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Give me a kiss once a day so I don’t turn into a frog, and I’ll keep you smiling and laughing.”

“What a deal!” Cait chortled, stepping away. She lifted her hand. “Sleep tight, Dan. Dream sweet dreams, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“I don’t want to turn into a frog, Cait,” he called as she walked toward the door. As his voice carried down the row of other beds, he noticed how her cheeks reddened and she was suddenly shy. Cait shook her head, gave him one last warm look goodbye and left.

* * *

Dan’s heart leaped when he saw Cait enter the ward at 1800 hours the next evening. He’d just eaten with the rest of the patients in his ward, and most of them were settling down to watch the TV at the other end of the long, rectangular room. Cait arrived wearing a dark green T-shirt with cap sleeves, loose white trousers and sandals. She carried a Monopoly board under her arm and a flowery decorated bag over her other shoulder. Her hair was caught up in a ponytail this time, long and swinging behind her. Dan’s heart took off and so did his lower body.

“I swore I was going to get a Monopoly game in with you this week,” she said, pulling the tray over and placing the board on it. She smiled and looked him over. “You got a haircut.”

“Like it?” He’d badgered the nurse until they sent a woman up to cut his hair late this morning.

“Well, it sure is a change from the surfer-dude look.”

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s just different. I’m so used to seeing you with your hair down to your shoulders, Dan. You know, fitting in over in Afghanistan or when you were surfing.” She brought the tray over and positioned it so that as he sat up, it was close enough to reach but allowed her to sit on the edge of the mattress opposite him.

“You mean I’ve lost my drop-dead good looks?” Dan wriggled his eyebrows. “I no longer entice you?”

Cait laughed. “I can rely on you to lift my spirits.” She placed the money along her side of the board, put the pieces on the board as well as the dice. “And you just look, well, more handsome.”

Pleasantly surprised, he said, “You’ll be proud of me. I shaved myself today. I survived my time with the electric razor.”

“You look very much like a suntanned model who could pose for a men’s health magazine.”

“Even with my leg strung up?”

“Yes,” she swore solemnly, trying not to smile. She gestured to the items on the board. “Choose your piece.”

Dan looked at the shiny gold metal pieces. “I like cars—I’ll take this one.” Cait’s cheerful mask slipped for a moment. Instantly, he knew she was grieving for Ben. His heart contracted with pain for her. “How about you,” and he nudged her hand, “what’s your choice?”

There was nothing he could do to assuage her grief. Hell, he’d cried over losing Ben last night. She had to be in pain over the loss of her brother. Cait’s eyes were suspiciously bright and he wondered if she’d cried recently. Dan wanted to do something...anything...to comfort her. But he couldn’t do much in his present state.

“Ohhh,” Cait murmured. “I think I’m gonna take the french fries. I intend to be the top mogul here by the time this game is over.”

“Detroit will beat you out,” he promised, waving the car in her direction. He grinned, his heart lifting. Every time Cait looked into his eyes, Dan swore he felt yearning coming from her. She was close enough that he could smell her and she smelled so good. She’d always worn a local perfume that sent him into a crazed mode of need. The scent was subtle and combined with her feminine fragrance.

She rallied. “Have the guys in here told you I’m a mogul who wins nearly every game I play with them?”

“Yeah, Bradford was telling me this morning when I got my hair cut that you were a ruthless Boardwalk titan.”

She rubbed her slender hands together, grinned and said, “Oh, yes, I am.”

“He said you’re the Queen of Monopoly on this ward.”

“That I am.” Cait gave him a playful look. “And now, country boy from Texas, you’re in my sights.”

How he wanted to reach out, slide his hand around her slender neck, draw her forward a little, meet her halfway across that tray and kiss her senseless. Dan knew he could. He was a skilled lover with plenty of practice. “What’s the perfume you’re wearing, Cait?”

“What? Oh.” She suddenly smiled and touched the nape of her neck. “Pikake. Why?”

“It smells really good on you,” he said. A blush colored her cheeks.

“I’ve worn this same perfume forever. You know that.”

He shrugged. “Well, maybe I’m older now and appreciate it in new and better ways.”

This time, Dan didn’t tease. He was dead serious and leveled a look at her that made it clear that he wanted her heart, body and soul. Her eyes widened and she blinked once, as if in shock for a moment over that very realization. And then she recovered, flushed redly and nervously touched her ponytail. “I—well, it’s called Arabian jasmine. Remember? I told you a long time ago when you first smelled it and liked it? The story behind it?”

He nodded, moving the piece slowly around in his hand, fantasizing it was Cait’s skin he was grazing. “Yes, in the nineteenth century, Princess Ka’iulana of Hawaii loved it.” It had a spicy note to it and made Dan’s body hum with need.

“I don’t think you forget anything,” she accused, nodding.

“Not when it comes to you, Cait. No, not a thing.” Dan knew he was on dangerous ground because she seemed shaken by his sudden seriousness. He was rarely somber with Cait, always the jokester and prankster in her life instead. She suddenly lost her cheerfulness and sighed, the metal piece between her fingers.

“W-when the Army sent two officers to my parents’ home...and then my mom called me later...” She blinked and touched her brow. “Dan, I was so afraid you’d died, too. I asked Mom about it, and she said she didn’t know. Only Ben was dead from what the officers said. I was so panicked about it, I called Joyce to ask if she’d been notified of your death...”

Grimly, he reached out and captured her hand beneath the tray. “I’m too damned mean to die. I was born and raised in Texas, Cait. It takes a lot to kill someone like me.”

He watched how she brightened, giving him a look of such longing it nearly broke him. It was then that Dan realized Cait needed to be held. Her mother had her father to console her. Cait had no one. But she had him, whether she realized it or not.

“Hey,” he called gently, “do me a favor right now.”

She frowned and fought tears that wanted to fall. “What?”

Dan released her hand and gestured toward the curtains. “Close them? I want some privacy with you, Cait.” He knew he sounded in charge. Stern, almost, but Dan wasn’t going to ignore Cait’s needs any longer. He just couldn’t. It was eating at his soul, squeezing his heart until the level of pain was far worse than the constant, gnawing ache in his leg. She hesitated and Dan pleaded with her. “Please? The guys aren’t gonna say anything.”

She slipped off the bed and pulled the long curtain around in a U-shape until they were completely enclosed. Cait wiped her eyes as she came over.

Dan pushed the tray aside and it rolled on its own toward the end of his bed. He captured her hand. “Come here,” he ordered in a roughened tone, urging her to come and sit on the bed near his good hip. “Up on the bed here with me.”

He wasn’t about to give Cait a chance to say no and he used his strength to get her to lift her hip and settle it on the left side of the bed. He held her confused gaze and opened his arms.

“Remember when you were nineteen, and you’d been stood up by that boy? And I was home on leave? I found you out back on the beach crying your heart out. I sat down with you and pulled you into my arms.” He searched her moist green eyes, noting the tremble in her lower lip as the grief overwhelmed her once more. She gave a jerky nod of her head. “Good,” he soothed in a low tone. “Now come here. Let me hold you for a little while, Cait. I’ll just hold you...”

She gave him a worried look, resisting. “Dan...your leg. If I move the wrong way it will cause you horrendous pain—”

“Ask me if I care,” he said gruffly, gathering her slender form into his arms. Clenching his teeth, he felt pain shatter through his leg as she carefully eased forward, lying across him, her one hand against his upper chest, her head resting on his right shoulder. Nothing had ever felt so good to Dan. It was a dream come true even if he was going to pay for it with the agony the movement was costing him.

“Okay, I’ll be careful.” Cait relaxed against him, nuzzling his broad, powerful shoulder. The green cotton fabric of his gown was rough against her skin, but she didn’t care. Nostrils flaring, she dragged in Dan’s scent—the perspiration caused by his almost constant pain, a clean soap smell and his own, unique masculine fragrance that woke up her lower body.

“There,” he said roughly, pressing his jaw against her hair, “now relax. No one has held you since Ben died. Let me at least do that for you, Cait...”

His growling words shattered her in an unexpected way, and she felt a sob jerk out of her as she pressed her face against the thick column of his neck, feeling his arms hold her more tightly, as if to somehow protect her from all the anguish that bubbled up at odd moments every day. Sometimes, she’d be helping a soldier with exercises when she’d suddenly burst into tears, embarrassed, having no explanation for them. With Dan, as the hot tears spilled down her cheeks, her fingers moving convulsively into the fabric across his chest, Cait felt no shame, no need to explain. Just...relief.

Dan closed his eyes, feeling the sweet curves and hollows of Cait fitting against his hard body. With every sob, his leg ached painfully, but oddly, just having her in his arms, able to comfort her, took so much of that burning nerve pain away.

Dan didn’t know what was going on except that Cait was healing to him in every possible way. Sliding his hand across her back, following the curve of her graceful spine, nothing had ever felt this good. He could feel her skin tighten beneath his fingertips, even with the barrier of her shirt between his fingers and her velvet flesh. She started to cry harder now as he caressed and fussed over her. He knew now that since Ben’s death, her parents hadn’t been able to support her. They were too deeply mired in their own shock and anguish to reach out and help Cait, too. But he could.

Dan caressed her damp cheek, uttering soft, calming words to her, feeling the press of her small breasts against his chest. His erection stirred to life despite the nerve pain gnawing ferociously away in his thigh. Dan didn’t care. He’d crawl over cut glass for this woman, who had always held his heart in her slender, beautiful hands. Cait had helped soldiers to heal over the years. He wasn’t a healer, that was for sure, but Dan knew he could give Cait momentary shelter in his arms, a little TLC that she so desperately needed and deserved.

Turning his face toward hers, Dan inhaled deeply, as if dragging life into his body. His heart suffused with quiet joy. Her hand had inched upward, near his collar bone, opening and closing as she wept and released so much withheld grief. Her body shook and he continued to minister to her, his heart pounding with need for her. Dreams did come true, Dan realized, feeling that his lower body was fully awake now. He felt guilty even thinking about sex with Cait when what she needed was this: his touch, his quiet words of comfort. His whole world upended in these fifteen minutes. It was Cait who was always taking care of others. She probably hadn’t ever thought of him holding her, silently loving her in his arms, and she surely didn’t know how much he wanted her on every damn level he could name.

With trembling fingers, Cait tried to brush the tears off her cheek. Dan eased his hand downward and his large thumb dried the area with one stroke. Tiny sensations of fire radiated from where he’d caressed her. Cait wanted to stay in his arms, just to be held by him. She slowly extricated herself and sat up, giving him an apologetic look, trying to wipe her eyes dry.

“You needed a good cry,” Dan said, his voice thick.

She licked her lower lip, tasting the salt of tears across it. “It’s been a long time coming.” Cait reached out, finding his hand and squeezing it. “Thanks...you always seem to be there for me, Dan. Every time I get in trouble, there you are to pick up the pieces of me.” She tried to smile but failed and just gave him a tender look of gratefulness.

“I do have a habit of doing that for you,” he agreed. Every time Cait broke up with her civilian boyfriends, he always seemed to be there, home on leave when it happened. Cait was right about picking up the pieces, but it was something Dan wanted to do for her. He always had ways of bringing a smile to her face, bringing laughter back into her life. During his thirty-day leaves, he, Ben and Cait would spend every day surfing on one of the many beaches on Oahu while she got over the worst of the breakup. Dan would leave, going back into deployment in Afghanistan, knowing that he would never have a chance for Cait’s hand.

Until now. He felt terrible even thinking that way with Ben dead only one week. Dan told himself he should feel bad about thinking in those terms but, dammit, he yearned for Cait as if she were a lost piece of himself. He wondered just how much she was drawn to him. Was it just compassion for him or more than that?

He knew Cait was not a one-night-stand woman. She took a long time to get into a relationship and they tended to last for years. Ben’s death and her grief meant Cait’s interest in him, if any, couldn’t be like the dreams and fantasies he had about her. About them as a couple. About a serious forever relationship with him.

Cait slowly moved off the bed, trying not to disturb his wounded leg beneath the tent. She released her ponytail, smoothing the strands and then pulled her shirt back into place over her hips. “You’re in pain, aren’t you?”

Dan grinned sourly. Hell, yeah, he was in pain. But Cait couldn’t see where he really hurt. “A little,” he lied.

“You’re looking pale,” she said worriedly.

“I’m damn well not using more of that morphine, Cait.” He gestured to the Monopoly game. “Do you feel like playing? Or maybe you’d like to go home?”

She cleared her throat and whispered, “Can I take a rain check on the game, Dan? I feel so exhausted now.”

Of course she did. He gazed tenderly at her. “Get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow sometime, okay? And, yes, we’ll reschedule the game and I’ll beat your pants off another time.” He grinned wickedly, and Cait responded positively, a slight pinkness tingeing her previously wan cheeks. Her lips curved ruefully and she managed a slight smile in return.

“I owe you, Dan...”

And how he wanted to collect on that debt. What would Cait say if he told her the truth: that he wanted a chance to have a serious, ongoing relationship with her? That he’d always loved her? That he wanted a chance to explore what they had with one another?

Course of Action: Crossfire

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