Dream: Dream Surrender

by Mary Wine

  * * * * *

  “No self-pity” was definitely one of her rules, but Loren didn’t think it applied to contemplating her temptations. Twenty-four hours later she was still thinking about it. Well, him. Them. Loren just didn’t know anymore.

  It was just possible she was one of the stupidest humans on the planet. Rather ironic when you coupled that with Toby’s intelligence level.

  At thirty years of age, you’d think she’d have managed to gain some level of comfort with her own sexuality. All Loren felt was the awkwardness of inexperience. Her breasts were still sensitive. Of course that might just be due to the fact that all she’d done all night long was dream about Rourke and the way he’d run his hands over her.

  Her head was killing her and there was only so much help that a girl could expect from coffee. Loren rubbed her forehead but headed back to the kitchen for another cup of coffee anyway.

  Her cell phone rang, piercing the silence. Loren reached for it happily. Maybe her real problem was boredom. Four days on this mountain was getting old. There was a limit to the amount of e-mail she received. Even the spam ads were looking interesting this morning.

  Nothing but static came through the phone. Loren jabbed the off button and went toward the kitchen. Most of her calls came through as static. The military element surrounding her seemed to cut the satellite signal on her civilian cell phone. She was even in the mood to listen to her mother tell her how wrong she was.

  Pouring the steaming coffee into her mug, Loren smiled as she caught the rich aroma. Rourke Campbell sure did know the value of good coffee. His kitchen didn’t stock the bargain stuff, no sir. It was pure Columbian roast. There were about fifty firefighters in Los Angeles who thought lousy coffee was a test of manhood.

  Stepping onto the porch, Loren considered her son. Toby was still infatuated with the Panthers. That wasn’t something to worry about just yet. In fact, Loren found herself rather grateful for the aircraft. When Toby got bored, it was best to run for cover.

  All manner of interesting things tended to happen when her son was searching for something interesting. Things like, the FBI showing up on your doorstep. Toby had hacked into too many top-secret files to count, and he was rarely caught. It had been a relief when Dr. Jasper caught her son. The NASA scientist had a lot in common with her son. The man had given Toby direction.

  Movement caught her eye and Loren turned toward two of the Rangers who were standing guard. A third was slowly moving toward her. He walked with the heavy steps of a dying man. Loren knew the walk instantly. It was a shuffle and pull, like the person was trying to wrench his body away from the ground.

  His face was chalk-white. He had every piece of gear strapped onto his back and his eyes stared forward. He shuffled again as his fellow Rangers noticed him but they didn’t break through the man’s shock.

  “Don’t touch him.” Loren issued her command as she stepped out of the man’s path. Bright red blood ran down his checks just like tears. His teeth were stained red. He stumbled forward again and stopped directly in front of the house. His arm moved up and cut a perfect salute toward the front door before he dropped to the ground in a boneless pile.

  The Rangers moved forward and Loren launched herself at them. Surprise gave her the ability to shove both men off their feet. But that same fall took her down with them. One solid fist hit her jaw and her head snapped back with the blow.

  “He’s infected.” Both men looked at their comrade before they began cussing. They gained their feet in a split second before moving away from the fallen man. Loren was yanked off the ground by her forearms and sent after the retreating Rangers. She didn’t have to turn around to know just who was tossing her around.

  Rourke stood looking at his fallen man. His stance was stiff as his face fell into the granite mask military men adopted to deal with death. Loren moved back, because there was a certain level of common respect you gave to a commander when they were losing one of their own men.

  Cal Worth was dead. The horrible reality of the disease hit Loren as she looked at the body. It was eighty percent fatal. The worst part was how little was really known about Ebola Tai Forest. The best doctors on the globe thought it had to be spread by fluid contact with an infected person. But that was based on limited data.

  Loren wasn’t interested in becoming some of that needed data. Her eyes looked down at the bunkhouse the men used. It sat three hundred feet from the main house. The front door was open and Loren could see the blood smeared on it from Cal’s hands. No one had been watching the ranger and he’d gone back into the familiar building in the last hours of his life despite the fact that he’d been sleeping in a smaller bunkhouse on the north side of the compound. With no solid evidence of infection, everyone had fallen into a false sense of ease over the past couple of days.

  Her eyes flew toward the ground and searched for any drop of that same blood. The forest floor didn’t display any but the man had been bleeding out and his contaminated blood could be anywhere.

  “Burn it.” Her words were ignored by the Rangers. Loren looked at Rourke and caught the harsh glitter of his emerald stare. “Burn everything. Anything he touched.” That was the only way the Africans said the disease could be stopped. Entire villages were torched to control Ebola Tai Forest. Rourke considered her before nodding his head with agreement.

  “Pendergast, which bird was Worth in?” Authority radiated from Rourke as he took charge. His men fell into absolute obedience.

  “Sandy.” The female name didn’t surprise Loren. Pilots had an unspoken need to name their aircrafts after women.

  “Strip the live ammo and get the other two off the ground. Toby, close up and get out of that helo.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Loren was surprised to hear her son snap to attention but his timing was impeccable. This was a race for their survival. Either everyone on the mountain worked together or they might very well all die together. Toby’s youth wouldn’t protect him.

  “Loren, go up to the house.” Protest sprang up instantly. Rourke’s eyes caught it and issued a clear warning. “You’re bleeding.”

  Her hand flew to her face and caught the wet slide of blood. The Ranger who had hit her began cussing again. He was inspecting his hand with intense scrutiny. Loren pulled her hand away and let the blood flow. If there were any germs on her face the last thing she wanted to do was press them into the torn tissue that was bleeding.

  “Put a cork in it, Wenton. The lady saved your hide by knocking you over.” Ranger Wenton snapped his mouth shut and took a long look at Loren. His eyes lost their cutting edge before he dropped his hand and gave his complete attention to his commanding officer.

  Loren turned toward the house. There had to be obedience now. If not, suspicion could have everyone at each other’s throats long before the disease could kill any of them. The very fact that this was a unit of Army Rangers made that threat all too real. Every man here had more than just one gun. The horrible possibilities that panic could produce turned her blood cold.

  Her cell phone buzzed again and Loren reached for it out of habit.

  “Loren?” Her feet stopped in their tracks because she was afraid of losing the satellite signal. Her father’s voice was just barely making it through the static.

  “Dad? I’m here.” And she desperately wanted to hear her father’s voice. There was a harsh reality that it might be the last time they spoke.

  “Is there any proof of the disease?” Loren felt a hollow laugh rise out of her chest. Her dad could gather more information than anyone she knew. It was amazing how he knew stuff the second it happened. Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. She heard the curse he didn’t try to muffle.

  “Hang tight.” The line went dead and Loren turned the phone off with a frown. That was her dad for you. It was all business, all the time. She marched into the house and toward the bathroom.

  The mirror showed her a split lip. Loren reached for hydrogen peroxide and didn�
�t wince from the sting. Instead she welcomed the sharp pain. The sting gave her some small assurance that germs were being killed.

  Smoke drifted in from the open door but that didn’t give her the same confidence. Instead the harsh smell only deepened her concern. They could burn the disease out of the worldly belongings but they couldn’t stop any infection that was already moving through any of their bodies.

  Cal Worth was now the main source of concern. Any man who had been in the same helicopter with him could be infected. Any one of them could have infected any of the others.

  And if Chris had become infected, her husband could have infected Toby.

  Loren stepped toward the open door and watched Rourke command his men. Her stomach twisted as she watched him walk over ground that could be laced with infected blood. He didn’t flinch. Instead he stepped forward and loaded another pair of fuel cans into the one Panther that was still sitting in the front driveway.

  He looked over the interior of the aircraft before he turned away. He stopped thirty feet away and pulled his gun out of its holster. He leveled the black pistol at the fuel cans.

  “Fire in the hole.” The sharp pop of the gun hit her ears a second before the fuel cans exploded. Orange flames shot out and ripped the helicopter apart.

  Watching the million-dollar machine burn should have made her mourn for the tax dollars that went up with it. Instead Loren was worried that they’d waited too long to sterilize any potential threat it might have posed.

  Chapter Seven

  The house was silent again. Loren wandered toward the front windows and looked out at the scorched earth. The metal hull of the Panther was still sitting where it had burned. Beyond that the blackened skeleton of a bunkhouse marked its final moment.

  Every inch of ground had been burned. It was shocking how complete the Army personnel had been. The house was spared only because it was Rourke’s personal residence and the soldiers were never allowed inside.

  But it was clear that the house would be torched the second there was any hint of further infection. The harsh sound of a flamethrower hit her ears. They were still burning the earth down the hill.

  Twenty-four hours of nonstop burning. She should have been more used to it. Brushfire season in southern California meant weeks of fires, but the constant smell of burning leaves and fuel still turned her stomach.

  Loren watched the teams stop their work. It was easy to see them. The hazardous material team had helicoptered in within an hour of Cal’s death. They wore complete environmental suits with their own, clean air contained inside a tank on their backs. It drove home the frightening reality of their contamination.

  A helicopter came over the house and the windows shook. The remaining team members made their way toward it. They were slow and clumsy in their inflated and insulated yellow suits. The last man climbed aboard and the aircraft lifted away.

  So now they were left to wait it out.

  Time could move at a snail’s pace when the mind was so full. Loren tossed her head and used her fingers to comb her hair back. The sound of Toby punching at his keyboard touched her ears and she smiled slightly.

  Her son had promptly gone into the den and calculated their odds of possible infection. He’d presented his numeric possibilities to her with an adolescent grin.

  Ah, to be a teenager and invincible!

  Loren turned and dropped her cup. She jumped back out of sheer shock and Rourke reached for her forearms to keep her from hitting the wall.

  “Could you breathe heavy if you’re not going make any other sound when you move…” Loren snapped her mouth shut. The man in front of her was exhausted. Heavy fatigue was carved into his face. It was clear he hadn’t slept.

  “Dad will appreciate the compliment. He taught me to be light-footed.” Rourke let his words come out slowly. He wanted to just look at her and burn her face into his mind. Loren was so alive. Her light green eyes glistened and shouted her energy at him. Reaching forward he gently smoothed his hand over her check. Her skin was silky and warm.

  “I’m sorry, Loren.”

  He left on silent feet a second later. Loren felt her composure desert her because she just felt him like he was a part of her. There was an urge shouting at her to follow the man and lift some of his guilt away.

  She stood in place instead. Truth had a way of hitting you right between the eyes when you finally got around to facing it. The truth was she wanted to be with that man. To yank his clothes off and let him do everything his male instincts told him to do with her.

  Facing her own mortality must have emphasized just how precious time really was. She’d been tossing away opportunities. Right now, Loren was looking at a clock that just might be winding down for her.

  But it wasn’t her own death that was really bothering her. It was the idea of Rourke’s death. He had always been so strong. He still was. Even with fatigue trying to drag him down, the man was still completely virile.

  As silent as the house was, Loren found herself paying attention to her steps as she followed Rourke. Every tiny sound she made seemed as loud as thunder. She wasn’t sure why she was following him, but it just felt right.

  She came to a sudden halt in the hallway. Rourke had left his door open. The master bedroom door had never once been left open. Today it was. Stepping forward she caught the sight of Rourke lying on his bed. The thing had been huge when she’d been laying in it. But it was the right size for its owner.

  Rourke had laid down, boots and all. His feet were crossed at the ankles and his arms were over his chest. Loren let her eyes slip over him as she looked at the body that he had such complete control over.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d just looked at a man for the sake of seeing him. Heat rose in her cheeks and she enjoyed it. Loren felt other signs of arousal invade her body as she looked at his firm lips. It was very freeing to have the opportunity to just let her curiosity run free without the worry that his emerald eyes would catch her.

  There was just something about his direct stare that made things permanent. She could let the small signs of passion move over her skin right now because Rourke wouldn’t see them. If he caught her eyes right now, there wouldn’t be any denying her rather basic yearnings. Rourke would peg her dead straight and her body wouldn’t help her conceal the truth.

  Loren leaned against the doorjamb and let her eyes slide all the way down his chest to his abdomen. His legs were powerful, just like his arms. Her lips went dry and Loren let her tongue run over their surface before she pushed away from the doorway and walked toward her own room.

  Her body protested the entire way but she went. Loren ran her hand through her hair and sighed.

  Rourke heard the feminine sound and curled his fingers into fists. He wanted her. Even now, as the hard truth was hitting him, he just didn’t care. He could smell her delicate scent coming from the guestroom and all he wanted was to pull her clothing away ‘til he found the source of the scent.

  It was basic and primal and all-consuming. Rourke let his eyes close again. It was a damn good thing he was so tired or Loren wouldn’t be sleeping down the hall any longer.

  * * * * *

  Her nap wasn’t restful. Instead Loren tossed around and woke up tired. Her head ached but she got out of bed. The sun was setting as she made her way down the hall.

  Right about now she was remembering why men were such trouble. Passion made the body unpredictable and Loren liked her neat, organized life. Keeping tabs on her son was all the excitement she needed.

  She stopped and stared at the closed master bedroom door. Loren had to really think about the afternoon’s events. Had she just dreamed it or had that door really been open? Her headache doubled and she shook off her ideas.

  “You are truly an addict, Loren.”

  Another mug went toward the kitchen floor. This time it was full to the brim with steaming coffee. Loren yelped as it splashed onto her bare feet. She was plucked off them a second later and depos
ited on the kitchen counter.

  Rourke muffled a comment before he flipped the faucet on and eased her skin under the cold water. Her feet were covered with pink splotches. He looked at the marks and muttered again.

  Damn it! He was just trouble for her.

  “So, where’s the bubble bath, Campbell?” Loren waited for Rourke to look at her before she burst out laughing. In his haste to attend to her burns, he’d managed to soak her to the waist. Water was dripping down the cabinets and pooling on the counters because he kept turning her body about to ensure that he didn’t miss a single tiny bit of the burn.

  Rourke aimed his emerald eyes at her before he looked over the mess he’d made in those thirty seconds. Loren continued to laugh as his face took on a devilish look. One hand held her in the sink as Rourke lifted a coffee mug from the counter and filled it with cold water.

  Loren’s amusement died immediately. Rourke aimed the cup toward her head and she thrust her hand out for protection. The water splashed up and out of the cup and onto them both.

  “It’s cold, Campbell!”

  His own laughter joined hers as Rourke tried to keep her squirming body on the counter while he also tried to refill the cup. “I noticed. But you needed a good cold bath a couple of hours ago, lady.”

  Loren went deathly still. Rourke returned her stare and waited. She was just so shocked to discover her own longings. That reaction was a mystery to him. They were both healthy adults, more than past the age of consent. Yet Loren faced her desire like a virgin on prom night. So surprised to discover it inside her own body.

  “You knew I was there.” Loren shook her head. “Of course you knew I was there.” Loren had just forgotten to consider what her son had told her.

  Psychic.

  Now that was a huge idea. In a really weird way, maybe it made things make more sense. Rourke had always been dead-on with understanding exactly how she was feeling. The question was, was it pure male instinct or something altogether different.