Reid sat very quietly. When the flight attendant came up to take their dinner order, he waved him away. Casey rested her head against his shoulder. She was sleeping deeply. Peacefully. And she had been right: she was a tosser and turner. Sometimes, during the last six hours of flight, she had turned the other way and he’d gotten up to stretch and walk around the cabin. The darkness outside the window was complete now as they flew toward Africa.
In those hours he’d had a chance to study her. Concerned with how he was reacting to Casey—as a woman, not as a mission or a priority in the military sense—Reid found his emotions unraveling faster than he could stuff them back inside himself. It was one helluva disconcerting feeling. Ordinarily, it was the easiest thing in the world for him to shove them aside. But with Casey, his emotions were like a can of worms that refused to stay in the can. He found himself constantly scrambling to avoid what he was feeling or what he wanted to do, which was reach out, touch, hold, feel her and comfort her. What a crazy day this was.
Once they landed at Kinshasa Airport in Zaire, their lives would be in constant jeopardy. He was sure the Black Dawn knew they were coming. He was sure they would have spies looking for them. Casey was a well-known individual in the world of biology—epidemiology and virology in particular. With her mop of red hair, she’d be an easy target to spot coming off a plane.
His thoughts veered from military tactics and strategy into more molten desires as she stretched her long, lean body, reminding him of a svelte racing greyhound. It made him go hot with longing. Even the way Casey’s lips parted during sleep haunted him. Her lower lip was full, soft looking, and he wondered what it would be like to press his mouth against hers. What would she feel like? Taste like? Every woman had a different taste, a different texture. And the desire to simply skim his fingers over the lush expanse of her freckled face and tunnel his fingers into that mussed red hair of hers made him ache.
Easing himself out of his seat once more, he slowly walked around the expanse of the cabin. He wondered why Casey was engaging all of his senses like this. No woman ever had before. Was it just some latent reaction to Janet?
Something deep in him that was crying out for a woman’s touch? A woman’s embrace? Was it the nurturing that Casey effortlessly extended to him that had fanned something within him back to hot, burning life? Reid shook his head and rubbed his face. Tiredness was beginning to stalk him in earnest.
An hour ago, he had gently reclined Casey’s chair so that it was fully laid out, much like a bed. He’d retrieved a couple of blankets and spread them across her to keep her warm, after which her tossing and turning had abated to a great extent. Walking over now, he reclined his own seat and pulled down some blankets for himself. Turning off the overhead lights on a side panel, Reid found himself stretching out, his feet hanging out over the end of the seat. Tall people sometimes suffered, and he grinned tiredly. Moving onto his side so he faced the sleeping Casey, he watched her in the constantly glowing bulkhead lights, which highlighted her peaceful, sleeping features.
Her red lashes were thick and lay against her freckled cheeks. The darkness he’d seen beneath her eyes was disappearing during her deep, uninterrupted sleep. Her hands were beneath her cheek. She looked like an angel, Reid decided as he felt his lids grow heavy. An angel in a warrior woman’s body. What a combination. A chuckle emanated from his chest as he pictured her with angel wings and an armor breastplate, shield and sword in hand. What a vision. One always thought of angels as… well, gentle, peaceful beings. And then Reid reminded himself that the archangel Michael was known as the Destroyer. Nope, scratch that. Angels could be warriors, too. A warmth spread across his chest as his lids closed, a slight smile lingering across his mouth.
The only thing Reid wished was that the inches separating their chairs would disappear. Then he could reach out, extend his arm and draw that tall, lean body of Casey’s toward him. Yes, she’d fit nicely beside him—curvy and soft in all the right places. How long had it been since he’d lain with a woman? Far too long, Reid told himself. And Casey, whether she knew it or not, was alluring. Even now, he could inhale the faint scent of the spicy perfume she wore. As he spiraled down into sleep, Reid knew that this was the last time he could sleep deeply and soundly. He knew that when they awoke, he’d have to be on guard until they stepped back on board a plane bound stateside. If they ever did… If they survived Black Dawn. If they weren’t infected by Ebola. So many ifs… and their lives weren’t guaranteed in any way, shape or form… .
Chapter Four
Casey felt strong, caring fingers close over her shoulder, firm and yet gentle. She wanted to continue to sleep, and gave a little moan of protest as the fingers moved in a light, circular massage across her skin. How long had it been since she’d felt a touch like this—light, yet somehow inviting? Even before she managed to drag her lashes upward, her body was responding to his touch. Reid Hunter cares for you, her heart whispered as she felt his fingers trace the outline of her blanketed shoulder. She heard him call her name. He was close. Very close. His tone was intimate. Deep. Somehow, he was teasing her awake and her suddenly vibrant senses clamored for more of his touch.
”Uhh… ” Casey muttered as she forced her eyes open and lifted her head.
With scant inches separating them, Reid managed an awkward, pasted-on smile. She looked like a little girl, her hair a glorious, messy mop, her green eyes cloudy with sleep, her lips parted and vulnerable looking. “Time to get up, sleepy head.” Forcing himself to remove his hand from her shoulder, Reid remained in a crouched position. He didn’t want to wake her, but eight hours of solid, uninterrupted sleep was all he could give her. In a couple of hours, they’d be landing at Kinshasa Airport, and he needed her fully awake and on guard. The country was in turmoil, and nothing and no one could be counted on or trusted.
Pulling herself up into a sitting position, Casey felt the blankets slip off her upper body and pool around her waist and hips. Rubbing her eyes, she moved slowly. The blankets dragged along with her as she placed her feet on the carpeted floor. She heard Reid chuckle indulgently as he rose fluidly to his full height from his kneeling position beside her seat.
“Who took care of you before I walked into your life, Doctor? There’s a definite need for a Neanderthal man, from what I can see… .” He leaned over and carefully untangled the rumpled blankets from around her legs. Her silk skirt was badly crushed and crinkled. The smooth, firm curve of her calf was briefly visible until he tactfully pulled her skirt down so that it fell around her thin ankles once again.
Sitting there, her elbows planted on her thighs, her hands pressed against her face, Casey struggled to wake up. She heard Reid’s teasing, deep voice with its delicious sense of care. She felt the blankets being pulled away. “I need coffee,” she croaked from behind her hands. “Any kind of coffee. Could you… ?”
Folding the blankets neatly, Reid placed them in the overhead bin. “Coffee? I’ll see what I can do. Stay put. I’ll be back.”
Somehow, Casey felt bereft when Reid left the upper cabin and walked down to the lower area of the jumbo jet. She slowly lifted her head and removed her hands from her face. Without his larger-than-life presence, she did feel more than a little vulnerable. Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes.
“You are certifiably nuts, Casey Jean Morrow,” she muttered defiantly to herself. “This guy—this Neanderthal—crashed into your life, and you’d think you were nothing more than a bowl full of gelatin when he’s around. Geeze oh whiz, girl, get ahold of yourself… .”
Pushing herself to her feet, Casey stretched languidly and felt each of her main muscle groups responding in kind. The chair had been comfortable, far more so than she’d anticipated. And Reid, bless him, had thoughtfully covered her with blankets to keep her warm as her body temperature dropped in sleep. Yes, he was a protector; there was no doubt about that. In many, many ways. Touching her rumpled, white silk blouse, Casey studied it for a good minute before she realized s
he needed to change into her field clothes, which were far more utilitarian. Africa demanded brutal practicality. Her olive green cotton, one-piece suit, with official-looking OID patches identifying her, would be the uniform of the day.
Hearing a sound, she turned. Reid was climbing back up the stairs with a small tray in hand. On it was a large decanter of hot coffee, two china cups, silverware, milk and sugar. Her lips pulled into a welcoming smile.
“I don’t believe this,” she murmured huskily as she followed him over to their chairs. Inhaling the fragrance of the coffee, she sighed audibly. “Coffee… “
Reid poured her some. He tried to stop feeling proud and pleased as she stroked him with that deliciously husky voice of hers. He wondered how she could so easily show her emotions to him like this. “How do you like it?”
“Black, strong and hot,” she said, leaning forward, her hand outstretched.
Reid placed the cup and saucer in her hand. Their fingers touched briefly. Momentary, pleasurable tingles arced up through his hand. He studied her still-sleepy features. Her eyes were puffy looking, and there was some cloudiness in her half-open green eyes. “It’s fresh. When I told the flight attendant in what bad shape you were, he took pity on you and made a fresh pot.”
Sitting down, Casey gratefully tasted the aromatic coffee. “Mmm,” she whispered gratefully, “don’t ever let it be said that you aren’t a lifesaver, Captain.”
A pleasurable warmth stole through his heart again, lapping outward through his entire chest cavity. They were feelings of joy, he realized. Something he’d not felt in a long, long time and certainly never to this degree or intensity. Scrambling, he sat down next to her and poured himself some of the coffee. “I think that you need to drop my military title and call me Reid. Or maybe I should say it again after you’ve woken up more?”
A careless smile crossed her face. She sipped the coffee religiously. “You’re right—I’m not in the OID, where titles abound, but in fieldwork again. Thank you, Reid. You are truly a guardian angel.”
Chuckling shyly, Reid savored his own coffee. “Even Neanderthals have their place in your world, eh, Doctor?” He preened silently beneath her heartfelt compliment.
Casey met his smiling eyes. She wondered what his face would look like if he fully smiled or laughed. Did Reid laugh? He was so serious and conservative in appearance. Yet so sensitive to her needs. The two didn’t quite equate. To laugh would mean he’d have to be in touch with his feelings, and that seemed to be the last option on his list. “You’re an enigma, Cap—I mean, Reid.”
“Why? Because I’m a caveman throwback in a modern world that doesn’t need them anymore?”
“No,” Casey said between sips, “it’s more than that… but I need to know you for a longer time and be less sleepy than I am right now to figure out the angles on you.”
“Uh-oh, this sounds serious.” Reid saw her sleepy, tentative smile. His heart opened, and it felt good. He was discovering he liked to make Casey smile—even if it was at the expense of his starchy, conservative Marine Corps image and way of living. Opposites attract, he told himself. And Casey was the diametric opposite, in some ways, to Janet, who had left him standing at the altar on their wedding day. Total, complete opposites. The one thing the two women had in common was their emotional vulnerability. Casey was much more open with her emotions, however. Was that why his heart pounded a little quicker when Casey bestowed that playful, little-girl smile upon him? It was a child’s smile of delight, of utter spontaneous joy in the moment.
“How soon before we land in Kinshasa?”
Reid glanced at his watch. “Two hours.”
Wrinkling her nose, Casey whispered between mouthfuls of coffee, “Good. I need to change and get into my working gear.”
Eyeing her outfit, he murmured, “I kind of like you in what you have on now.”
“Silk doesn’t cut it near the equator, Reid. Right now, we’re entering the beginning of the rainy season up north in Zaire. Heat, humidity and on-and-off rain. Whatta combo. Not my favorite thing.” She looked at her hand. “My fingers swell up like sausages on some days. I hate it.”
“Does it affect your head, too?”
Chuckling, she slanted him a glance. One corner of his mouth was curved. “You’re a kidder, Hunter.”
“Takes one to know one, right?” He enjoyed her liveliness and repartee. Laughter shone in her eyes as she sat there, both hands around her coffee cup as if she were worshipping it. He understood her need for good coffee. He appreciated a strong brew himself.
“I’m glad you can tease and be teased.” She lost a bit of her smile and stared at the grayish colored bulkhead. “When things get tense, I really get cracking the one-liners. Just so you know ahead of time, okay?”
“No problem.”
“According to the state department, things aren’t too settled in Zaire right now.”
“They haven’t been for a long time,” Reid answered dryly. “Why should it be any different for us?”
“It means we may have to punt. The last time I was in Zaire, for three months of fieldwork, the pilot of the C-130 that was supposed to fly us into Yambuku, on the Ebola River, refused to. He thought he’d get Ebola just by landing on the dirt airstrip outside that little village.”
“So, how’d you persuade him?”
“Money. American dollars. One of ours is worth a hundred and ten thousand of theirs.”
“That’s an economy out of control.”
“No kidding.” She waved her hand. “Greenbacks talk over there. The pilot got a ten-dollar bill and flew us in. It took a twenty-dollar bill to get him to come back in three months to pick us up. By their standards, he was a very, very rich man after those two flights.”
Reid grew thoughtful. “With the rainy season being in effect for a month, the only way we’re going to get around is by plane. What few roads there are in Zaire, the dirt ones, aren’t negotiable.”
“No,” Casey agreed unhappily, “it’s nothing but pigs in a quagmire, frankly.”
“Is that what you feel like?”
She chuckled and poured herself a second cup of coffee.
“I’ve been in Zaire so many times over the last five years, I’ve lost count. I’ve been there in the dry season and the rainy season. Where we’re going is in the rain forest. Just on the edge of it. The Ebola River, which flows into the Congo River, drains the northernmost part of this incredible rain forest. North of it is rolling savanna.”
Reid poured himself another cup, enjoying her company. “According to my info, we’ll be going in to a small village located on the edge of the savanna, a huge grassy plain.”
Nodding, Casey said, “Vince and Stan were staying at a local village with Chief Henri Movasankani. He’s the hereditary Bantu chieftain of his tribe-—one of the few remaining. It’ll be good to see Grandfather Henri.” She pronounced his name with a French accent.
“You know him?”
Casey twisted her head to look at Reid. She saw the intensity in his eyes, his powerful attention focused on her and what she had to say. She understood that as a marine, the more he knew, the more he could anticipate concerning their security. “Yes. For five years. Grandfather is around eighty-five now. He’s a tough old buzzard, lean and starved lookin‘, but he’s smart as a whip. No one can fool that old man in the least. He’s partially blind now with cataracts, but that doesn’t stop him from leading his village of around five hundred families.”
“Do you think he’ll know who killed Vince and Stan?”
Her brows fell. “I don’t know. It’s something I intend to ask him as soon as we arrive.”
“Do you think he’s involved with Black Dawn?”
Snorting, Casey straightened up. “Grandfather Henri is one of the most trusted people I know in Zaire. He’s worked with the OID and other international scientific agencies for years. He wants Ebola found, too. It has killed fifty of his people over the years. No, he’s completely trustworthy, Reid
.”
“Think he can identify any of the Black Dawn members who might have killed Vince and Stan, then?”
She shrugged. “I really don’t know. I hope he can… or one of his people can. Terrorists aren’t always easy to pick out of a crowd. You know more about that than most.”
“They blend in,” he agreed. “Still, if Chief Movasankani is on top of things, he’ll know who looks familiar, who is a stranger to his territory.”
“That,” Casey said grimly, “is what I’m counting on to help keep us safe while we do our job.”
“Speaking of our job,” Reid said, placing his cup on the tray and reaching for his briefcase, “are you awake enough to look at some photos and memorize some names? We’ve got a few Black Dawn individuals in custody. They aren’t talking about their cohorts, but running through their bios might help you.”
Nodding, Casey said, “Sure, let’s look at these bastards.”
Cutting her a glance as he reached for a file, he said, “Why, Doctor, I wouldn’t think you’d use cuss words.”
“Watch me. If things get hot and heavy out there, I revert back to my teenage rebellion years in one helluva hurry. My mother used to wash my mouth out with soap, too.”
He saw the warrior in her eyes and grinned tightly. “Maybe you aren’t going to be such a liability in the bush after all, Doctor.”
“You’ll want me at your back if things start happening, Captain. Believe me,” Casey warned him throatily. “I may not be an expert on SKSs, but I can handle a 9 mm with the best of ‘em.”
Musing about her husky warning, Reid handed the file to her. “Well, if nothing else, you’ll probably be an expert at throwing rocks at them.”
With a howl, Casey bubbled into laughter. She liked this marine. Maybe too much. The laughter dancing in his slate-colored eyes was unmistakable. “I’m really glad you’re with me on this little jaunt, Captain.”
Heart of the Hunter Page 6