Anger mingled with her fear. They were the enemy! Bat shifted sideways on the steep hill. Righting himself instantly, he galloped down the last slope that would lead them back to the safety of the site. How far the Taliban would trail her, Cali didn’t know. She hadn’t expected to run into the bastards in full daylight. Hesam had said they always struck at night. Cursing softly, she rode Bat hard down the next incline, which wasn’t as steep. The Arabian knew they were being fired at. His small ears lay against his neck, his nose was thrust outward, and he clamped the bit in his teeth.
More rock and dirt spat up around them. The horsemen were continuing to fire, and Cali was damned if she was going to be a convenient target! She zigzagged the fleet Arabian down the hill, and by the time Bat leaped onto the desert floor, the firing had stopped.
Bringing the foam-flecked Arabian to a skidding halt, Cali whirled him around and scanned the hills. The horsemen were gone. Bat’s flanks were heaving like a bellows, his snorts loud and harsh. He was shaking with fear. Automatically, Cali reached out and stroked his sweaty neck.
“It’s okay, okay, Bat. The worst is over. You did great.” She patted him with calming motions.
Cali heard an approaching vehicle and shifted to look toward the sound. Relieved, she recognized one of the four security trucks that Jake Barnes and his men drove. They must have heard the gunfire or seen the horsemen through their binoculars. Steering Bat, Cali headed toward the speeding vehicle.
To her surprise, she saw Pete Trayhern getting out of the Toyota Tundra, an M16 rifle in hand. His face was thundercloud dark, his gray eyes anxious. Hakim, Cali’s driver, parked the truck and started scanning the hills.
“Cali, are you all right?” the major asked.
She nodded. It was one of the few times he’d called her by her first name. She dismounted to give Bat a well-deserved rest. “Yeah, I’m fine. You must have heard those bastards firing at me?”
Pete halted in front of her, rapidly assessing her. Cali looked a bit pale, her green eyes stressed. “Security called me. They had you in their binocular sites and saw what happened. Are you okay?” He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder. It was an instinctive reaction, Pete realized belatedly. Actually, Cali seemed fine. A little windblown, her cheeks a ruddy color, but no gunshot wound and no bruises. For that, he was more than grateful.
“Really, I’m okay.” She gave him a slight, trembling smile, surprised at his actions. She had never expected the major to touch her. The care radiating from him staggered her.
Cali felt his fingers dig slightly into her shoulder as if he wanted to convince himself of her assurances, and her skin prickled. There was strength in his grip, and she hungrily relished the unexpected feeling.
Lifting her gaze, Cali met his concerned eyes. “I’m good, Pete.” His first name just slipped out. What the hell was wrong with her? Pulling free of his grasp, she saw his eyes fill with confusion and questions.
She tried to make light of what had just happened. “Hey, you know I invited you out on this ride today. Just think, you could have been shot at, too.”
Grimacing, Pete looked up at the hills, which once again appeared deserted. “That isn’t funny. Next time, though, I will go with you or you’ll take a security escort.” Pete gave orders to his driver to ask Hesam’s mounted troops to search the hills for the Taliban immediately. He cursed himself silently. Cali Roland was fully capable of taking care of herself, he told himself harshly. There was no way he could become her bodyguard. His pounding heart wouldn’t settle down, however, and he scowled.
As Cali leaned down and carefully checked each of Bat’s slender, gleaming legs for injury, she said, “Why? Because I’m a woman and can’t handle things alone, Major? I need a man to do it for me?” She twisted to glance up at him as she lifted one of Bat’s rear legs to look at his pastern. There was a small, bloody cut there. She’d have to take care of it once they got back to the stalls.
“No,” Pete said, unhappily. “It doesn’t make good sense for anyone from the site to ride out into the hills by themselves.” He rested the M16 on his hip.
Hakim continued to gaze up at the hills, skimming the slopes anxiously, his own M16 in hand.
Cali lifted her horse’s last leg and inspected it closely. She chose not to reply to Pete’s comment. He was obviously stressed, and she didn’t want a fight with him. Her shoulder still tingled where his hand had briefly rested. Fighting the sensation, she said, “I’d have got off some rounds if I wasn’t skidding down those hills at Mach 3 with my hair on fire.” She released Bat’s leg and gave him a well-deserved pat on the shoulder. Looking across the horse’s neck at Pete, she added, “But I decided running was a better option. There were eleven of them and one of me.”
“Did you see their faces?” Hakim interjected.
Shaking her head, Cali said, “No, not really. I saw the AK-47s they were carrying, though.”
“That is the Taliban’s weapon of choice,” Hakim stated, frowning.
“Isn’t it unusual for them to be out and around in the daylight?” Cali asked as she rounded the Arabian and checked the saddle girth.
“Yes, according to Hesam,” Pete answered, dividing his attention between Cali and the hills above them. She could have been killed. Gritting his teeth, he fought the harsh emotion that flooded his chest at that thought. He was not going to fall for Cali. His heart could not stand the resulting anguish. Plus, she had not worn a Kevlar vest to protect herself. Again.
“I think,” Hakim said, “that because so many of Sheik Hesam’s men are working on the power plant site, there are far fewer patrols in the hills than before. The Taliban knows that and is getting bolder.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “And that is not good.”
“No kidding,” Cali said, remounting. She settled into the saddle and looked at Pete, who still seemed anxious. “Well, now we know, huh? Maybe we should drive over to Hesam’s village and tell him what happened. He might have a plan or something up his sleeve.”
Sighing, Pete said, “I’m going to have to.” He glanced at his watch. Dammit, his time was at a premium. But he couldn’t have Taliban horsemen harassing the site, either. Trying to tamp down the terror he felt over Cali’s near miss with death, he looked up at her. “You want to come along?”
“Love to. I’ll ride Bat back to the site, clean up a bit then join you, okay?”
“You weren’t even wearing a flak jacket to protect yourself, Cali,” Pete said, motioning toward her. “Again.” The time when bandits had attacked the trailers, she hadn’t been wearing one, either. Anger laced the concern Pete didn’t want to feel.
“So sue me. I didn’t think—”
“I know you didn’t, dammit. But I need you alive, not dead.” Pete wanted to add that he wouldn’t tolerate such a lapse of security by one of his people, but he didn’t. He’d broach this topic with her later, when both of them were calmer.
Cali watched him spin on his heel and growl at Hakim to get in and head back to the security trailer. Brows rising, she picked up the reins and nudged Bat forward with her heels. Pete’s voice was laced with something other than exasperation. On the way back across the busy construction site, Cali had time to ponder over that last look the major had given her.
If she wasn’t wrong, it denoted a man who cared more than just a little for her. Now, how did she feel about that discovery? Maybe she was mistaken. Cali had been known to read men wrong in the past. Russ had fooled her completely….
Her pulse accelerated with fear. Fear of intimacy. With a shake of her head, Cali refused to believe the major cared for her at all except as a business partner.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KERWIN ELLIOT THUMPED his index finger on a report lying on his desk. “According to this, Major Trayhern, you’re asking for a helicopter.”
“Yes, sir,” Pete said. “We’re two months into this project and, frankly, having to come to Kabul every two weeks to give progress reports is costing us a lot of time.”
Elliot’s thick gray brows rose. “Oh? I consider these meetings essential to tracking the various projects I’m responsible for.”
Hearing the banked anger in his tone, Pete was glad Cali was with him for support. “Sir, with all due respect, I think we may have lost sight of the mileage to and from Kabul. Ms. Roland and I spend four hours, one way, on a dirt road rough enough to jar a person’s teeth loose. Then we spend another four hours driving back to the site. That kills a whole day.”
“So you’re wanting to add an unbudgeted helicopter to your supplies list? So you can fly here to see me bimonthly?”
“Yes, sir, I do.” Pete felt sweat running down his rib cage.
“I can see the handwriting on the wall, Major. If I give you a helicopter, every other project team will want one. Your request is not within budget, and I can’t authorize it.” Elliot glanced at Cali. “How about you, Ms. Roland? Why doesn’t your company provide a helo, instead?”
Cali stirred. “Because a helicopter was not in our budget, either, Mr. Elliot.”
The man grunted and gave them each a hard look. “What you’re suggesting is a money hemorrhage, as far as my accountants are concerned. Sorry, Major. You’re going to have to bite the bullet on this one.”
Frustration thrummed through Pete. “Sir, I don’t like having our management team spending two whole days away from the site each month.”
Shrugging, Elliot said, “I can’t help it, Major.”
Damn. Pete nearly mouthed the word. “Perhaps we can send our report by courier instead? Or see you once a month instead of twice?”
“Major, these meetings are crucial for my team to follow the various projects. You know that.”
“Yes, sir, I do. But I’m sure you can appreciate my dilemma.”
Elliot gave him a faint smile. “Yes, I can appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing to be done about it.”
“Thank you for your time, sir.” Pete glanced over at Cali. “Do you have anything else to discuss with Mr. Elliot?” He saw her green eyes widen. Strands of red hair dipped rebelliously across her brow. Pete’s heart always took off at an unsteady gait when Cali’s gaze met his.
“No, nothing more, Major Trayhern.” She rose and shook Elliot’s hand. “We’ll see you in two weeks.”
“WHERE ARE WE GOING?” Cali asked as she walked at Pete’s shoulder down the crowded street in Kabul. The afternoon sun was brutal, the July heat unrelenting. Desert-camouflaged Humvees, manned by U.S. Marines, moved slowly up and down the avenue. Horses and donkeys pulling carts clip-clopped along, their heads down, ears twitching. The odors of Kabul were half intoxicating, half revolting to Cali. The refreshing scent of mint warred with the sharp tang of lemons. Both were used in many dishes. Diesel fumes from passing trucks made her choke.
“I’m going to see an old friend of mine,” he said. They wove among streams of women carrying baskets of bread and other items from a nearby market. Children of all ages roamed the streets. Taking a left down a narrow alley, Pete added, “I’m not done trying to find us a chopper.”
Cali grinned. “I didn’t think so.” The walls of the three-story buildings rose around them. The alley was dirty, human and animal fecal matter clearly present. Paper and other debris littered their dusty path. When the fragrant smells of curry and tomatoes filled the air, Cali looked up. A second-story window was open, and a woman was cooking over a brazier on the balcony. A breeze stirred, feeling good against Cali’s damp skin. After wiping her brow, she settled her hard hat back in place.
“While I see my friend, you can do some business at the Roland Construction office down the next street. How about we meet at a little restaurant near here. I found it when I was coming up here on company business while stationed near Kandahar.” He took out a pad and pencil from his pocket and wrote down the name and address. Ordinarily, he’d never suggest such an intimate place, but they’d missed lunch and his stomach was growling with hunger.
“Oh.” Cali hesitantly took the piece of paper. “Dinner?”
“We’ll pay separately, don’t worry.”
She smiled and tucked the paper into her jeans pocket. “Of course. What time, Major?” Cali could spend an hour in the small company office and contact her parents plus hand in some paperwork to the manager who ran it.
“An hour? Will that give you time to handle your paperwork?”
“It should.” Cali almost said, Take me with you, but held back. Blantant curiosity—and possessiveness—flared inside her. Everything about Pete Trayhern intrigued her, but she had to let him be. She lifted her hand and waved. “See you later.”
THEY SAT in Fatima’s Place, an open-air restaurant off the beaten path in Kabul. The sun was low in the sky, causing ribbons of red, orange and gold to streak the western sky. No traffic disturbed them, since the restaurant was not on a main, paved road. Locals came here to enjoy simple meals of basmati rice, kebabs or curried lamb. Cali and Pete ordered Kebab Murgh, chicken marinated overnight in yogurt, turmeric and garlic, with just the right touch of cayenne pepper. The black tea served just before the meal was dark and delicious, with a bit of honey stirred in.
“Heck of a day, huh?” Cali said to Pete as they were served their food. The round table was covered with a red-and-white-checked cloth. To add to the ambience, a small alcove housed clay pots filled with brightly colored flowers, and a small fountain spewed out erratic jets of water.
“Yeah, but a good one, I think.” He sipped his tea and gave her a triumphant look.
“You look pretty happy. Something happen?” she ventured, savoring the spicy seasoning on the well-cooked chicken breast.
“Do I look happy?” Pete was surprised, since he prided himself on keeping his emotions off his face. As Cali watched him, he tried to stop dwelling on her glistening lips. He forced himself to pay attention to cutting up the fragrant chicken on his plate.
“A little. Pleased, maybe?”
“Do you always mind read?”
“Only when I have to.”
“Now I am in trouble.” Pete chuckled, then looked down at his food again. Did Cali realize how beautiful he found her? How perfectly shaped her mouth was?
“Relax, Major. I’m a great keeper of secrets.”
He chewed thoughtfully and allowed himself to meet her sparkling green eyes. “You are. We’ve been working together for some time now, and I know very little about you.” God knew, he wanted to know everything. When she raised her hand gracefully to wipe her lips with her napkin, he swallowed hard. Beauty in motion.
As she debated how much to tell him, Cali saw the interest in his eyes. Was it professional or personal interest? She didn’t want to misread him as she had Russ. And she didn’t dare show Pete how nervous she was. “Well, I don’t play golf. I know a lot of execs do, but I find chasing a little white ball around on a green silly.”
“Finally we agree on something.” Pete grinned. Their jobs at the site had them at loggerheads on a daily basis. He had come to respect Cali’s way of resolving problems.
“Red-letter day.”
“Possibly. So, you don’t like golf. I know you like to ride horses.”
“I grew up riding.”
“Why do you enjoy it?” Pete wanted to know so much more.
“It gives me a sense of freedom. I love nature. I like being out in it, rain or shine. I notice you like to ride, too.” Although he never rode with her, Cali had seen Pete riding with Hesam’s security almost daily. He was good at forging loyalty with Hesam’s men, who obviously felt the major was one of them.
“Two things we agree on.”
Shaking her head, Cali finished off her chicken. “Frightening, isn’t it?” Squelching laughter, she looked up to see his eyes gleaming with merriment. For just an instant, Cali found herself wishing they didn’t work together. Why couldn’t she have met him somewhere else?
“Don’t let it go to your head, Ms. Roland.”
“Not likely,” she answered dryly
. The waiter came over to their table, dressed in baggy, dark red pantaloons and a white shirt and apron. Cali handed him her plate and thanked him in Pashto. The young man bowed and removed Pete’s plate. A minute later he was back, serving them steaming coffee and dessert.
Pete dipped his spoon into his firni, a custard pudding flavored with cardamom and rose water, and topped with ground pistachios. “I got us a helicopter.” He didn’t mean to sound as if he was gloating.
“What? You did? How?” Cali’s eyes widened.
“An ex-gunny sergeant of mine, Joe Hazeltine, married a local woman here in Kabul. He runs a garage and is the world’s best scrounger. I told him about our problem of time and distance, and he said he knows of a Canadian merc team that has a helo. He said they’re crazy as loons, but he can talk them into letting us hitch a ride a couple times a month. They work up in the north as well.” Pete smiled. “I won’t tell you what the deal was, but he said they’ll go for it.” In case the matter ever became public, Pete wanted to protect Cali and her company. This idea was his alone, and if Elliot found out about it, he’d be damned unhappy.
“Wow,” Cali whispered, impressed. “You scrounged around among the locals and came up with a Band-Aid fix.”
“Something you’ve done many times on jobs yourself, I’m sure.”
Cali grinned and sipped her coffee. “Construction in foreign countries often makes for strange bedfellows. Yes.”
“I like the idea of not wasting two days of our time twice a month,” he growled. He watched as a soft breeze lifted strands of hair across her smooth brow. His hand fairly itched to reach out and thread his fingers through them. Cali was all-business. There was no flirtation, no come-hither looks. And hell, maybe what he felt was just an unfulfilled daydream on his side of the aisle. After his disastrous history with women, why the hell would he want someone as powerful and confident as Cali Roland to return his fevered yearnings? He had to be crazy. Or maybe lonely. Yeah, that was it.
“You look like you’re daydreaming,” Cali said. “A penny for your thoughts?” She saw Pete’s cheeks turn a dull red. Oops. Had she stumbled onto some of his secrets? Mouth curving, she asked, “Are they X-rated? If so, you can plead the Fifth.”
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