THE MARINE & THE DEBUTANTE

by Maureen Child

  Her gaze locked on his mouth and her insides trembled. Oh, this probably wasn't a good idea. She had who-knew-how-many days left to be in his company and he'd already made it pretty clear what he thought of her. So there was no way this was going anywhere. Still, she thought as her gaze lifted to meet his, a private little fantasy or two couldn't do any harm, could it?

  "What's running around inside that head of yours?" he asked suddenly.

  Lisa flinched guiltily, as if he could read her mind and see for himself the direction her thoughts had been taking. And the idea of that was simply too embarrassing to contemplate. So she had to think quickly to come up with something to tell him.

  "Uh…" she stalled for a moment, then blurted, "I was just wondering what smells so bad … the cave, the snake or the fire." Brilliant, Lisa, she thought on a silent groan. Just brilliant.

  But he accepted her statement at face value, for which she was grateful. "It's the fire," he said. "Actually, it's the brush we're usin' for fuel. Now, if we were back in Texas…" he paused and a soft smile creased his harsh features. "I'd toss some mesquite onto those flames and you'd think you'd died and gone to heaven, on the smell alone."

  "Texas, huh?" she asked. A Marine and a Texan. Heck, no wonder he'd been so sure of their ability to traverse the desert before sunrise. He was probably convinced he could walk on water.

  And a part of her wouldn't have been surprised to see him do it.

  Oh, dear. She could be in big trouble, here.

  "Yep," he said, and that proud smile on his face widened, deepened.

  Again that lightning-fast sizzle of awareness splintered through her bloodstream, and Lisa wondered frantically how to stop her reaction to him. This wasn't the time or the place or the man for these kinds of feelings.

  She was sitting in a cave for pity's sake. In the middle of a desert. Get a grip, Lisa, she chanted silently, but the way her heart was thudding in her chest, she had a feeling it wasn't going to do any good.

  He started talking about home, and she watched pure pleasure light his eyes as he described his family's ranch, the horses, the sunsets and so much more. He talked about his family, about the small town where he'd grown up, and with every word, he painted a picture. A faraway look softened his gaze as if he was staring at a memory so good, so cherished, it was enough to wipe away thoughts of their current situation. Lines of tension in his features eased away, and his lips curved into a smile that made her wish she could see what he obviously saw so clearly.

  Lisa suddenly felt very alone, and a slender thread of envy wound through her. Plainly, he loved the home he carried in his heart. She wondered what it must be like to have a real home—a home where people and places were so familiar they were like a part of yourself.

  Raised by her father after her mother's death when she was three, Lisa had grown up in boarding schools. And when vacation time rolled around, there was no family homestead to head for. It was Spain or Paris or Switzerland. Not that she was complaining or anything. After all, most people would have loved to see all those places.

  But she'd never had the comfort of her own room. Her own private space to dream or sulk in. She'd gone from hotels to rented villas, with never a place to belong. And even thinking it made her feel guilty. So many people had real problems that hers looked trifling in comparison.

  Still, a twinge of regret for things she'd never known struck a familiar chord deep within her and brought to life an old ache. But she pushed that pain down into a dark hole inside and covered it over, as she'd done all her life, with a bright smile.

  "My brother'll tell you that sage makes the best fire," Travis was saying, "but for me, it's mesquite, every time."

  "Your brother?"

  "One of 'em," he said with a half shrug.

  Another thing to be envious of, she thought briefly. How many nights had she lain awake, hungering for a sibling to argue with, share secrets with?

  "I'm an only child," she said.

  His mouth quirked in a half smile. "When I was a kid, there were a lot of times I wished I could say that."

  "Trust me," she said, smoothing the hem of her torn, dirty dress over her knees, "it's not all it's cracked up to be."

  "Yeah, well, now that we're grown," he said, "I guess I'm glad to have 'em."

  "How many brothers do you have?"

  "Three," he said. "And two sisters."

  "Six kids?"

  "We do things in a big way in Texas."

  "Apparently."

  "And we all know how to cook," he said, holding the still-steaming snake meat out toward her.

  She eyed it with distaste, then looked up at him. "I thought we'd settled that already."

  Both black eyebrows lifted and his mouth quirked into a taunting smile. "Scared?"

  "Not scared," she said with a sniff. "Discerning."

  "Chicken, you mean."

  Lisa shook her head. "You really think you're going to get me to try that stuff by pulling a third-grade dare?"

  "Bwaack, bwaack," he said, and she had to admit he did a pretty decent imitation of a chicken.

  "Oh, for heaven's sake," she muttered, reaching out to snatch a piece of the meat. Before she could change her mind or get too sick to swallow, Lisa popped it into her mouth and chewed.

  After a long minute she swallowed and looked into his waiting eyes.

  "Well?" he asked.

  "It wasn't terrible," she admitted, unwilling to give him more than that. But blast it, the stupid snake did taste good. As long as she didn't remind herself exactly what she was eating.

  "Want some more?" he asked, a knowing smile on his face.

  She sighed and said, "You're really loving this, aren't you?"

  "Yeah," he said in that slow drawl of his. "I think I am."

  "Gracious in victory, I see," she said wryly.

  "Princess," he said, clearly enjoying himself now, "the only good loser is a guy who's used to losin'."

  Firelight flickering on his harsh features, a steely look in those dark eyes of his, he looked to Lisa like a man who was definitely not used to losing.

  * * *

  At the American Embassy in El Bahar, Gunnery Sergeant Jeff Hunter snapped into the telephone. "Yes, sir. We'll wait for further instructions."

  He shot an irritated look at the two other men standing nearby. J.T. and Deke both looked as itchy footed as he felt. None of them were comfortable staying here at the embassy while Travis and the Chambers woman were somewhere out in the desert. Nothing worse than standing around waiting.

  And with that thought uppermost in his mind, he interrupted the Colonel on the other end of the line. "Sir, if you give us the word, my team can be back in the field inside an hour. We'll find Hawks and the woman, then call for an evac."

  "Under no circumstances are you to take your team back out," Colonel Sullivan ordered. "This was supposed to be a covert mission. We can't risk sending you back in. At least, not yet."

  Disgusted at the fact that politics were now running what should have remained a military operation, Jeff shook his head at the two men watching him. J.T. cursed under his breath and Deke's scowl got fierce enough to boil blood.

  "Understood, sir," Jeff said, not liking this one damn bit. Another minute of "yes sirring" and he hung up, dropping the receiver into the cradle with a loud crack.

  "They're not letting us go in, then?"

  "No," Jeff said, glancing at Deke. "They don't want to take the chance of having this whole thing on CNN by nightfall."

  "So instead," J.T. muttered, "they're hanging Travis out to dry."

  "Basically." Jeff shoved one hand across the top of his head and tried to figure out where this had all gone wrong.

  "What about the woman?" Deke asked. "Isn't her father rattling enough cages to get some action?"

  "Mr. Chambers," Jeff told him with a narrow-eyed stare, "doesn't know what happened. Yet."

  "Travis'll get her out," J.T. said. "There's not a better man for this job."


  "True," Jeff said, walking to the wide window of the Ambassador's office. He stared out at the busy street below, then lifted his gaze to the desert far out in the distance. It was a hard, dangerous land out there. Good thing Travis was every bit as hard and dangerous himself.

  * * *

  An hour later Travis stood at the mouth of the cave, letting his gaze slide slowly across the scorched landscape. The sun shone down from a sky that looked white-hot. In the distance, waves of heat shimmered, bending the land and tricking the eye. He narrowed his gaze on the wavering lines that resembled a large pool of water. But he was no stranger to mirages. He'd seen his share of them back in Texas on blistering summer days. He knew damn well that a desperate man could be fooled into chasing water that didn't exist until it was too late and the last of his strength gave out.

  Taking a tighter grip on his rifle, he shifted his gaze from the mirage to slowly scan the area. No sign of anyone out there—but that didn't necessarily mean anything. He couldn't take anything for granted. It was up to him and him alone to see that Lisa Chambers made it out.

  Which meant that he was going to have to stay focused. And not on her. Travis reminded himself that hormones had no business here. Hell, he'd been doing this job for years and never once had he found himself talking with the mission like they were on a date or something. Disgusted with himself, he knew that one slipup here could mean recapture or worse. He didn't need to have his concentration divided. He couldn't afford to see her as anything but what she was.

  His responsibility.

  Oh, they didn't need to be enemies. Hell, this whole rescue thing would work a lot better if they weren't. But they didn't need to be friendly, either.

  What was needed here was a cool, detached professionalism. And if that meant pulling back, being a hard-ass, then that's just what he'd have to do. Better she not like him than start giving him the kind of smile he'd just seen. How was a man supposed to keep his mind on the dangers at hand when a woman like her turned on the charm?

  Nope. This'd be a damn sight easier if she went back to snarling at him. Which shouldn't be at all hard to accomplish.

  Turning, he slipped back down the narrow passage until he reached the end of the cave where he'd left Lisa, waiting.

  "Did you see anything?" she asked, and he heard the fear underlying the calm of her words.

  "No," he said shortly. "But that doesn't mean much. Still, we should be safe enough here. We'll hole up until nightfall and then leave. It'll be cooler walking at night and easier to lose ourselves in the shadows."

  She nodded, but clearly wasn't looking forward to it. He didn't blame her. Hell, no way was she used to this kind of life. Probably hadn't walked farther than the curb to hail a taxi in years. But, he thought, steeling himself against a swell of sympathy, the harder he pushed her, the sooner they'd be out of here and back where they both belonged.

  Which was nowhere near each other.

  "Get some sleep," he said, and kicked out the last of their tiny fire. He used the toe of his boot to stomp out the dying embers until there was nothing left of them. Motioning her back against the wall of the cave, he stretched out in front of her, placing himself between her and whatever danger might approach.

  "Sleep?" she repeated. "Here?"

  He turned his head to look at her and told himself not to notice the fear in her eyes. "Well now, I called the Hilton, but they were full up."

  "Very funny."

  "I try."

  "Try harder," she told him, squirming around on the rock floor, looking for a comfortable spot—and obviously not finding one.

  "Pretend you're camping." He didn't even look at her when he spoke. At the moment he didn't have the energy.

  "I've never been camping."

  "There's a surprise."

  She muttered something he didn't quite catch, but he heard the rustle of her dress across the dirt as she settled down.

  "Look, princess," he said, feeling fatigue ease up from his very bones, "we're stuck here. We can't leave now. It's too damn hot out there. We wouldn't make a mile with our water supply so low."

  "Yes, but—"

  "We've got a chance for some sleep, and we're gonna take it."

  She glanced at the dark passage leading toward the outside world, then shifted her gaze back to him. "And what if someone comes in while you're napping? What then, fearless leader?"

  Well apparently she, too, had decided to back off the whole friendship thing. Which was just as well, he told himself. It was much safer for both of them that way.

  Closing his eyes, he muttered, "Trust me. The guys who kidnapped you are probably throwing a party to celebrate you being gone. If they've got any sense at all, they're not lookin' for you."

  And if they were, he thought, he'd hear them long before they got close enough to snatch her again. He'd learned long ago how to sleep with one eye open. As long as she was with him, she was safe.

  He'd see to it.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  «^»

  She moaned in her sleep, and Travis went on full alert.

  First things first, he glanced at the entrance to the cave and saw that no one had discovered them. They were still alone. But Lisa's pain shimmered in the air around him. Going up on one elbow, he stared down at her and scowled to himself. In the dim light, he saw her features tighten, her brow furrowing as she twisted her head from side to side. Almost frantically she whispered words he couldn't quite understand.

  But he heard the fear clearly.

  A cold, hard hand fisted around his heart as he watched her battling demons in her sleep. Back teeth grinding together, Travis fought with his own instinct to protect. She wouldn't welcome his comfort, he knew. Hell, they'd been at each other's throats for hours. But at the same time he couldn't just sit here and watch her torturing herself with nightmares.

  "Lisa," he whispered and reached out one hand toward her. He stopped short, though, and curled his fingers into a tight fist to keep from touching her. Keep it impersonal, he told himself sternly, trying to ignore the single tear rolling down her cheek.

  But seeing a strong woman cry was enough to curdle his blood. What the hell was she dreaming about? Her captors? What had they done to her? During their forced march across the desert, he'd pushed her to the edge of her limits and then beyond. But she'd stood up to it. She hadn't broken. And damned if it didn't bother him to see her in the grips of something she couldn't fight.

  "Princess," he said, his voice a little louder now as he tried to reach her through whatever torments she was experiencing.

  "Don't." The single word came loud and clear and for some weird reason, it made him feel better. She was strong. Probably stronger than she knew.

  Even in her dreams she was fighting back. Holding on.

  He opened his fisted hand and touched her upper arm gently, trying not to be distracted by the cool softness of her flesh. But that was hard to do since the moment his skin came into contact with hers, heat swelled up and boiled his blood. Damn. It was like the shock of static electricity.

  He swallowed hard and muttered quietly, "It's okay, princess. You're safe."

  Whether it was the sound of his voice or the touch of his hand, she instantly quieted, turning her head toward him and moving closer on the rocky ground. He stretched out again and held perfectly still as she cuddled in, dropping one arm across his chest and burrowing her head into the hollow of his shoulder.

  One corner of his mind knew that she didn't have the slightest idea of what she was doing. She was simply looking for comfort, the way a child in the dark might grab at a teddy bear. But the feel of her body curled into his sparked a reaction down low in his gut and threatened to swamp all of his high-and-mighty notions of keeping his distance.

  He lay awake, staring into the darkness for a long time, while she slept deeply, trustingly, in his arms.

  * * *

  Lisa woke with a start.

  Her eyes flew open. Her
heartbeat thundered in her ears. She swallowed hard, focused on the soft pillow beneath her head and for a long, frantic moment couldn't remember where she was.

  Then, as the new aches and pains began to register, it all came flooding back to her. Oh, yeah. The cave. With supermarine.

  How could she have forgotten any of it? Even for a minute? Heck, every inch of her body hurt. That wild race across the desert had just about wiped her out. And, she'd eaten snake, for pity's sake, then spent hours arguing with a man whose head gave new meaning to the phrase solid rock.

  She grimaced as she shifted position carefully and it wasn't until that moment that she realized her "pillow" was actually Travis Hawks's shoulder.

  Oh, for heaven's sake. How embarrassing was this? All she'd done was fight and argue with the man, and then the minute she falls asleep, she snuggles up close? Well, the only discreet way out of this was to slip away from him before he woke up.

  And she would do just that, she told herself. In a minute. The problem was, he just felt so darn good. Strong. Solid. She listened to the steady beat of his heart and felt … safe. Silly, she knew, considering the fact that they were hardly out of danger.

  But there it was.

  Ever since appearing in that horrible little room to rescue her, he'd put her safety first. Even now, he lay alongside her, his body between hers and the mouth of the cave. His body between her and danger.

  Okay, she told herself, uncomfortable with that particular line of thought, no need to start giving him more brownie points than he'd already collected. Besides, she was already in his debt. She didn't want to have to be forced to actually like him, too.

  But whether she wanted to or not, Lisa's mind kept spinning on the subject of Travis Hawks.

  Had he slept? Or had he stayed awake and on guard?

  And why, she wondered, did she care?

  He'd insulted her, exhausted her and infuriated her. So why should she care? The easy answer of course was, she shouldn't. This was his job. He did this all the time. She was just the latest in his no-doubt-impressive line of rescues.

  Nothing special.