Sanctuary: Delos Series, Book 9

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Oh, God…” Teren whispered, her eyes widening. “Don’t tell me…”

  “Yeah, they let the crocs finish the bastard off,” Nolan said in a gritty tone filled with pleasure. “I didn’t know any of this until after I heard Uzan’s screams. I didn’t see it happen, but Ayman’s soldiers said the crocs got him, dragged him beneath the waters, and he never resurfaced.” He smiled tightly. “A fitting end for a killer like him.”

  Blanching, Teren leaned against the bed, her hand across her closed eyes, feeling relief soar through her. “But…what a horrible way to die…” She allowed her hand to fall away from her eyes, holding Nolan’s flat, dark stare. There was no remorse in his expression. “You never recovered his body?”

  “No. Ayman said they might find some of his torn clothing drifting down the Nile toward Zalta’s bridge over the river in a few days, but that’s all. Crocs aren’t picky eaters. They consume a whole carcass.”

  Her throat closed up and she nodded. “All the while I was using the reeds to hide in, I was so fearful of a croc finding me, Nolan. I didn’t know my knees were bleeding until I looked down and saw the blood in the water around them. And then I really panicked, because I know crocs can smell blood a mile away and follow the trail until they find the bleeder.” She sighed heavily. “I started getting dizzy and nauseous, so I headed for shore, knowing my blood was tainting the water. I think I passed out before I could get completely out of the water.”

  “You must have, because the lower half of you was still in the water when I found you, Teren. You got lucky.”

  “What—what do you think Uzan would have done to me if he’d captured me and made it back to Khartoum with me?”

  Grimacing, Nolan said soothingly, “It’s not important to conjecture, Teren. It didn’t happen.” He gave her a pleading look, knowing that this trauma was going to affect her for a long, long time to come. Nolan had no wish to add to the trauma possibilities, giving her even more nightmares. She’d have plenty already based upon yesterday’s experiences. “What I want you to do now is just focus on the positives, not on the scary things that didn’t happen. Okay?”

  “Yes, that’s a good idea.” Teren looked around the room. It was now flooded with a wash of pink light, the sun about to come up above the horizon. “When can we go home to Kitra? I don’t like hospitals.”

  Nolan smiled a little. “Sometime today. Your doctor will want to check you over one more time and then he’ll release you. Ayman has two haflas standing by with a driver. He has three soldiers guarding the door here in the hospital and they will follow us home. I’ll make a call to him and then we’ll leave for Kitra.” He saw relief instantly come to Teren’s pale features. The drug was still in her, but not as much as before.

  “That sounds so good, Nolan. I-I really need Kitra. My friends…the children…the mothers…and you…”

  “I know you do,” he rasped, taking her hand, holding it, wanting to infuse her with his strength, his calm.

  “And I need you more than anything else in my life, Nolan,” she admitted, clinging to his gaze. “Just you.”

  Nolan moved closer, easing Teren into his arms. She sighed brokenly, her head coming to rest on his shoulder, their brows touching. He closed his eyes as she weakly slid her arms around his waist, holding him as hard as she could, realizing that she was still not anywhere near her full strength.

  Sliding his fingers through her loose, unbound hair, he whispered, “You’ve got me, Teren. I’m not ever leaving your side again. Not ever.”

  *

  Never had Teren felt better than when Nolan and Ayman walked her slowly, on unsure legs, into her duplex. They had arrived at Kitra near midnight. The village was sleeping quietly and Ayman had met them at the main gate. She was exhausted but happy to be home. At the door, Ayman swung it open and stepped aside.

  “I’ve already cleared your duplex. Go rest, Teren,” he urged her quietly. “You’ve had a very rough time the past few days.”

  Teren held his glittering gaze beneath the porch light. “I will, Uncle. Thank you…for everything.”

  “Farida wants you to come back to work when you feel up to it. Take your time,” Ayman counseled. “Your two office assistants are in charge of the online store. They are doing just fine, so don’t worry, all right?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, giving him a look of gratefulness. Reaching out, she squeezed Ayman’s long, strong hand. “Thank you, again—for everything…for rescuing me.” She saw the man’s eyes glint with tears, but then just as quickly, they disappeared. His fingers were comforting and warm around her hand.

  “Allah was good to us today, my child. His angels will guard you as you sleep, Teren. Good night.” He released her hand, stepping outside the entrance.

  Nolan watched Ayman and his soldiers move silently along the walk, heading toward their duplexes on the other side of the admin building. He slipped his arm around Teren and she leaned against him, needing his solid strength. “Come on. Let’s get you inside. Does a hot bath sound good to you?”

  Did it ever! “Very much,” Teren admitted wearily. Someone had thoughtfully brought some of the wildflowers that grew nearby along the edges of their massive gardens and put them in a small blue vase on the coffee table. It was an endearing touch, and again, she found herself close to tears. Teren had never cried so much, off and on, as she had today. Nolan had reassured her it was the drug working its way out of her system, that it made everyone super-emotional and that the crying was good for her.

  Teren was tired of crying, but she knew she’d suffered a life-changing trauma, so she wasn’t as hard on herself as she might have been.

  Closing the door, Nolan locked it. He took Teren directly to the large bathroom and had her sit down on the small stool while he got the water running in the tub. She moved slowly, still somewhat uncoordinated. Nolan understood it was the drug. Kneeling down, he eased her boots off her feet, setting them aside. The darkness in her eyes told him that she was crashing, which wasn’t unusual. In minutes, he had her undressed. He tested the warmth of the water with his fingers and satisfied, helped Teren climb into the huge garden tub. He felt relief when she sighed and smiled as she eased into the water.

  “Just soak,” he advised. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  Nolan, out of habit, cleared his apartment, leaving the door standing open between them. Teren was going to sleep with him at her side. He wouldn’t leave her alone to deal with what he knew would haunt her sleeping hours. As an operator, after a firefight, the nightmares would torment him for a week or so. It was just a way for him to work out the emotional trauma of the situation. It would be no different for Teren. But he’d be there for her. She wouldn’t have to go through this alone like he always had.

  Nolan was sure that she wasn’t in any way prepared for what could happen to her. PTSD was real, and she’d nearly died. It would raise its ugly head again and again in Teren. A fierce love for her overwhelmed him as he walked into her bedroom and drew down the sheet and the chenille bedspread.

  Later, Nolan joined her in bed after taking a long, hot shower that dissolved some of his stiffness. The brutal demands on his body had left their impact on his joints and hot water always eased their soreness. The night light in the hall spilled hazily into her bedroom. Teren had dressed in a pink sleeveless tee with her thin pink cotton pajama bottoms on. It hurt him to see that she lay asleep on her side in the middle of the bed, knees drawn up toward her body. That fetal position told him that even in sleep, she felt threatened.

  Naked, his skin damp from the heat of the shower, he slipped in beside Teren, his body wrapped around hers, her back curved against the front of him. Nolan didn’t try to force her to stretch out her legs along his. He wanted her to sleep because he knew that would heal her more quickly than anything else. The shock of the event was still with Teren and would remain with her for weeks, maybe months, to come. Every person reacted to trauma differently. In some, it left quickly—while
in others, it could take longer.

  As Nolan slid his arm beneath her neck, folding his other arm around the front of her, gently bringing Teren fully against him, he heard a little sound of comfort in her throat. She sensed him with her even though she was asleep. Nolan felt grateful as she sagged against him. It was enough.

  *

  Teren heard the roosters crowing outside her duplex window and their noise broke her out of a deep sleep. Frustrated, not wanting to be roused, she fought against surfacing. Ordinarily, she awoke quickly, fully alert, but now her sluggish brain whispered that she was still healing from being kidnapped.

  As she stirred, she felt comfortably warm, the sheet across her lower body, her hand beneath her cheek on the pillow. Somewhere, she heard music, a harp. It was an instrument she hadn’t heard in a long time. She dragged her lids open, listening to it. The door to her bedroom was partially open and soothing music drifted quietly through the room. It was a beautiful sound and it brought back memories of her childhood, of Christmas at church, of a woman parishioner who was a harpist. Those were happy times for Teren.

  Snuggling her face deep into the pillow, a new happiness thrummed through her, chasing away the cloudiness of sleep. Nolan. Teren allowed herself to feel her love for him. Before the kidnapping she had tried to downplay it, tried to explain it away, tried to hide from it because she’d fallen so swiftly for the man. People just didn’t suddenly fall in love like that, did they? Wasn’t a long time needed in order to know for sure? At least that is what her inexperienced mind told her. But her heart had other desires, never listening to her brain—and it desired Nolan now, not later.

  Teren once more regretted her lack of worldliness about men and relationships in general. But right now, that didn’t matter. Whatever questions she had had about being powerfully attracted to Nolan on every level had been more than answered, and she was at peace with herself and her decision.

  She heard a noise at the door and barely lifted her head. “Nolan…” He stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the jamb, a cup of coffee in hand. He was dressed in that revealing dark green T-shirt and those body-sculpting jeans, and she felt her whole body flare to life. The man was sensual, sexy, and hers. All hers. She managed a partial, sleepy smile, slowly pushing up into a sitting position.

  “That coffee smells so good.”

  “It’s got cream and sugar in it,” he warned. “Want it?” He held it toward her. Nolan couldn’t stop the hunger that swept through him as Teren sat up, looking like the disheveled but beautiful young woman that she was. Her hair was tousled and soft around her drowsy features. The tee she wore brought out the slenderness of her body, her proud shoulders, and those small, tempting breasts of hers, the nipples pressing strongly against the cotton fabric. Most of all, as he held her cloudy gaze Nolan saw clarity in her eyes. Teren was fully here in her body, not drifting in and out from that opiate that she’d been given.

  Gratitude flooded him as he saw her nod and stretch her hand in his direction for the bright yellow ceramic cup he was holding.

  Nolan sat down on the bed facing her, easing the mug between her long, artistic hands. He smiled into her eyes and watched as she brought the steaming coffee to her lips, tentatively sipping it and then blowing across it to cool it. Just watching how her lips moved sent fire through him. Already, he could feel his erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans. Nolan knew that sex wasn’t the answer for Teren right now—she needed a safe environment and she needed to be comforted. She had to let him know what felt right to her because he knew coming out of a drugged state, a person’s emotions could whiplash around at a moment’s notice. Teren would probably be in that unpredictable state for two or three more days.

  “Mmm,” Teren said, sipping the coffee with relish. “This tastes so good. Thank you.”

  “It’s probably got more sugar in it than you’re used to,” Nolan said, hooking his one leg up on the bed and pushing it beneath him, his other foot resting on the floor. “Gives you instant energy.”

  Teren absorbed Nolan’s quiet, steady nearness. “I don’t normally drink coffee with sugar in it,” she admitted. “What time is it, Nolan?” The clock was on the nightstand behind her, and she didn’t want to twist around to look at it. Her body felt a lot less stiff and sore than it had been last night before she soaked in that warm tub of water. Leaning against the carved wooden headboard, she drew her legs up near her body, feeling her cranky, bruised knees protest. Nolan had put more antiseptic on both of them after she’d gotten out of the bath. He’d carefully dressed her injured knees before she went to bed to protect her stitched flesh.

  Glancing at his watch, he said, “Ten a.m.” He saw the surprise flare in her eyes. “You needed it,” he stressed darkly. “And you have the day off, so relax.”

  “Ten,” Teren muttered. “I never sleep that long!”

  “Shock is the culprit,” he said, moving his hand lightly down her leg beneath the light blue sheet.

  “I’ll bet you could write a book about what trauma does to people,” she muttered, sipping the coffee and feeling her strength increasing. “You seem to know exactly where I’m at and what I’m feeling, Nolan. To do that, it must have happened to you.” And then she thought about the worst shock in his life: losing Linda and his baby. There was no question Nolan had dealt with tragedy—and survived.

  Teren wasn’t so sure she would have recovered from a blow one-tenth as serious as Nolan’s had been. It served to tell her just how strong he was mentally and emotionally. He was such a rock, so steady and solid. Teren felt like a cork bobbing on the ocean in comparison. But she’d always been that way because she lived, for the most part, on her passion and her emotions.

  “As an operator, I’ve had a few shocks,” he admitted quietly. “I always like your insight, Teren. The way you think. The way you see yourself and others.” He caressed her foot, his fingers making light patterns around her covered ankle.

  “It’s just who I am,” she offered softly, feeling the tenderness of his touch. It made Teren feel valued, important to Nolan, emphasizing how much he really loved her. “And you? You didn’t get the psychological depth you have without experience, without a lot of events happening in your life.”

  He snorted a little and gave her a bemused look. “Age coupled with experience hopefully gives everyone a little maturity and a drop of wisdom, sweetheart. You have a natural ability to read others. It’s a gift you were born with. I saw that in you from the moment we met at the airport.” His hand tightened around her foot for a moment. “I’m going to spend the next few days detailing just why I love you so much, Teren. I knew all these things about you beforehand. We haven’t been together that long, and I was waiting for a better time to share them with you. Then after this kidnapping attempt, I said to hell with it. I was going to let you know exactly how I felt about you and why I love you so much. You’re an extraordinary woman, but I don’t think you see that in yourself—but I do. And I’m going to show you every day, in large and small ways, who you are, your skills, your wisdom, your compassion, and that very, very large heart of yours that has room for strangers and friends alike.”

  She finished the coffee, leaning over and placing the cup on the nightstand. Sweeping joy shimmered through her as Nolan’s low, gritty voice flowed like sweet falling rain on the parched land surrounding Kitra. She eased her legs slowly down until they were straight beneath the sheet. “I don’t see any of that in me, Nolan.” Reaching out, she tangled her fingers in his own, holding his intense gaze. The man, she thought, was a mind reader—there was nothing she could hide from him. Not that Teren ever wanted to. She was curious as to how he saw her, because he made her feel so good, so positive about herself.

  Compared to her family of origin, who always cut her down, belittled her, made her feel badly about herself, Nolan was like sunshine spilling into the darkness of her soul, illuminating her, showing her that she had beauty and purpose. He saw her as someone to be val
ued. That was such a freeing realization, and her heart was grateful that he saw her in that light.

  “Well, I intend to remedy that, Teren. Ayman, Farida, Nafeesa, and Abit all see what I see in you. They may not give it my words exactly, but they see who you are. Why do you think you’re so loved here at Kitra? Everyone here wants your touch, your smile. And you’re able to give your love freely to everyone. As wounded as you were by your family, you had the inner strength, faith, or whatever else you want to call it, to work through your own pain, heal yourself, and turn around and give love in return to others. That’s remarkable in my book because not a whole lot of people can do that.” He squeezed her fingers. “That’s just one more reason why I fell in love with you.”

  “You make me sound like a saint,” she protested, giving a shake of her head. “I’m human, Nolan. I make mistakes every day.”

  “We all do. But not everyone has the capacity you have for loving others, Teren.”

  She sobered. “Well, what else is there?”

  He smiled a little. “Indeed.”

  “Every human owns a heart, Nolan. Every human has the same capacity that I carry in me.”

  “I would argue that while that’s true, not every human being has the strength or desire to attain the level of caring that you operate at every day, without ever thinking about it. And no, you’re not a saint. And yes, you make mistakes. But I love you just the way you are.”

  And now she had to give back to the man who had changed her life. “I love you so much, Nolan.” Her voice trembled. “I tried so hard to push you away from me before because the power of our attraction scared me. I-I’d just never felt what I felt for you. Plus, I was such a neophyte, I didn’t have the experience I needed to understand what was happening to me…to us.”