Risk Taker

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Risk Taker Page 17

by Lindsay McKenna


  “I didn’t think I was going to make it here. Pascal and Potter had their hands full with your brothers in the rear. He needed my copilot, Tait, back there to help stabilize them.” Her mouth pursed with tension, and she closed her eyes. “I was bleeding out, and I knew it. I was praying like hell I could last until we landed.” Sarah was grateful he was still there with her. She only vaguely remembered Ethan at her bedside the first time she’d become conscious.

  Frowning, Ethan began to realize her quiet courage. “The two SEALs you picked up are going to make it,” he told her, squeezing her fingers gently. “And Tolleson, who got wounded later, is in good shape. We took a lot of hits up on that ridge.” He tried to keep the anger out of his tone.

  Raising her lashes, Sarah muttered, “It’s good to hear they are going to make it. I like happy news.” And then she studied him. “You were hit in the Kevlar, Ethan. How are you?”

  Ethan was struck by Sarah’s care over his SEAL friends and himself. She wasn’t asking about herself, but about the others she had saved. His heart expanded with an intense love for her. “I got hit here.” He pointed to the left side of his chest. “I’m good.”

  “Thank God,” Sarah whispered, “because I just happened to see you spin around and fall. It scared the hell out of me, Ethan.” Tears came to her eyes, and her voice was hoarse and scratchy with emotion.

  Leaning down, Ethan cupped her cheek, his face inches from her. “You are the bravest woman I’ve ever known, Sarah.” His voice grew unsteady. “Out there on that ridge, you were magnificent. You sat that Black Hawk down like you owned the real estate, never a hesitation or a bauble.” Ethan smiled tenderly down at her, and, God help him, he was driven to kiss her, to somehow let her know even now that he loved her. He could never tell Sarah that, but he felt raw and aching for what might have been. “But I know you do now.” He took a huge risk and curved his mouth gently across hers, feeling her warmth, her life blossom beneath his in her returning kiss. She wasn’t going to push him away. A tendril of hope spiraled through his chest.

  Sarah felt Ethan’s mouth lift from hers. Heat and joy flooded her as she looked up, drowning in his stormy gray gaze. She knew that look. He eased his trembling fingers through her clean, shining hair. “You told me last night. Don’t you remember?”

  Brows drawing down, Sarah said, “No…I don’t remember much.” Except his kiss. She remembered that, remembered how the heat of his kiss warmed her icy-cold body, warmed her heart, her soul. She had told him to walk out of her life. Yet, he was here. He’d come. He hadn’t abandoned her. What had she done? Ethan smoothed out the wrinkles across her brow with his thumb.

  The door opened, and Dr. Tisdale entered. She shut it and said, “Well, well, good to see you awake, Chief Benson.” She walked over to her and gently eased the blue gown down off her right shoulder, checking the dressing over the wound. “So far, so good. How are you doing?”

  Sarah liked the lean woman with the long, graceful hands. Tisdale had short gray-and-brown hair and caring hazel eyes. “I’m good, Dr. Tisdale.”

  “I kept that piece of Plexiglas that severed your brachial artery. Want it as a souvenir?”

  Managing a sour grin, Sarah muttered, “No. I’ve seen enough Plexiglas to last me a lifetime.”

  The doctor eased the gown up on her shoulder. “What I want to know,” Tisdale said, getting serious, “is how did you manage to fly that helo into Bagram? We put nearly two pints of blood back into you. By all rights, you should have passed out halfway here.” She drilled a hard look down into Sarah’s widening eyes.

  “I—don’t know,” Sarah admitted, sobering over the news.

  “I found this out from your copilot, Tait. He said he was in the back, helping your medics save those two SEALs.” Tisdale wagged her finger into Sarah’s face. “If this ever happens again, Chief Benson? You get your copilot up there to take over immediately. If you’d have passed out from blood loss, that bird would have gone down and all six of you wouldn’t be here today. All right?”

  Nodding, Sarah knew she had an ass-chewing coming. “Yes, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

  “Good.” Tisdale snorted, reading over her chart. “Because you got very, very lucky, Chief Benson. That Plexiglas cut the main artery in your arm. Could have sliced through and cut some nerves that would have rendered your hand numb for the rest of your life.” She closely observed Sarah’s hand peeking out from the white sling. “Move your fingers for me?”

  Sarah did.

  “Your wrist? Slowly. You don’t want to aggravate the wound. I did a good job of sewing you up, and I don’t want to see my fine work screwed up.”

  Almost smiling, Sarah did as she requested.

  “You have full feeling in every finger?” Dr. Tisdale took each one and poked it with a somewhat dulled steel needle.

  “I can feel every finger,” Sarah said. Stunned, she realized that if she’d lost the use of any part of her hand, never mind her arm, she’d never be allowed to fly again, and that just couldn’t happen.

  “Hmm, good,” Dr. Tisdale murmured, picking up her chart and writing notes on it. Looking up, she said, “Your fiancé was like a junkyard dog last night, snarling and snapping at my team when they brought you in.”

  “What?” Sarah looked over at Ethan, stunned. Her fiancé? He had an innocent look on his face, if it was possible for him to look innocent.

  “Yes,” Dr. Tisdale muttered. “I’ve been around this place for two years and learned early on you don’t screw with a SEAL team member who’s wounded. Or—” she gave Sarah a one-eyebrow-raised look “—with his fiancée.” Dr. Tisdale smiled. “You’re going to be going into rehab in about a week, Chief Benson. Now, just between you and me, I think you’d rather rehab here at Bagram, and we do have a fine physical therapy facility for it, rather than be sent stateside?”

  Sarah did not want to leave Ethan. Her heart wrenched over the possibility they’d be separated. “I’d much rather rehab here, Doctor.”

  “Thought so.” Dr. Tisdale grinned. “I’ll get my nursing team to get a room assigned to you at the barracks officer’s quarters here on base. You can spend time in our physical therapy unit, our gym and swimming pool getting well.”

  “When can I start flying again?” Sarah asked, giving Ethan a glance. There was amusement in his lowered eyes.

  “That’s what rehab is designed to do for you,” Dr. Tisdale said. “As soon as you can prove you can work that cyclic and collective, I’ll put you back on active duty and you can go back to your squadron at Camp Bravo. Maybe two or three weeks, depending.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. Really, I appreciate it.”

  Dr. Tisdale became serious. “I’m putting you in for a medal, Chief Benson. What you did was extraordinary. I’m sending the recommendation to Major Donaldson. I hope he approves it.”

  Shocked, Sarah didn’t know what to say. She didn’t live to get a medal. They were all political anyway. But she saw the woman’s eyes, heard the grit in her voice and wasn’t going to argue the point. “Thank you. All I want is to get well, Doctor.”

  “And so you shall, Chief Benson. You’ll spend another night here and then we’ll transfer you over to the BOQ and you can get a bus from there to our physical therapy department here at the hospital. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  Sarah turned after the doctor left and looked up at Ethan. “Fiancé? Is that what you told them?” Her heart pounded.

  Having the good grace to look sheepish, Ethan murmured, “They weren’t going to let me stay any other way.” He saw the surprise in her expression, then understanding. “It was a lie, but I wasn’t going to leave you alone without any support here at Bagram.” His mouth tightened, and his voice became strained as he held her wavering gaze. “You’ve been abandoned before, Sarah, but I wasn’t walking away from you even though I knew you told me to. I—I just couldn’t do it.” Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise again. He wanted to tell her that she was in his blood. In his
heart. Ethan couldn’t think two thoughts without thinking of Sarah, her goodness, her beauty. And when he slept, he dreamed of her. Of loving her.

  “I see…” Sarah whispered, feeling so many emotions flooding like a brightly colored rainbow through her. “I guess…” She grimaced. “I live so much in the hour, the day, Ethan.” Overwhelmed, she whispered, “We live in chaos, Ethan.” Why had he stayed, then? She was confused by him, by her own feelings. She’d just nearly died. Sarah knew she needed time to sort it all out.

  “You need to rest, Sarah,” Ethan said, his chest tightening as he saw exhaustion stalking her. “We’ll talk again when you want,” he soothed her, watching her long, thick black lashes come gently to rest against her pale cheeks. Ethan stood quietly, watching Sarah drift into sleep. His heart opened with love for her. Ethan understood where she was coming from. Sarah was afraid of commitment. Afraid the chaos of war would tear her away from him. It almost had tonight. And he couldn’t stand there and argue differently. Dammit, he wasn’t going to walk away from her. No matter how much Sarah wanted him to do it, he couldn’t. It would be one hour, one day at a time between them and their fragile, growing love for one another.

  Somehow, Ethan knew Sarah loved him. She’d never said it and would probably never say it. But he knew. And that gave him hope in a damned hopeless situation. He’d seen her needing him, felt it, felt so much around her. Ethan knew he had to try and beg Sarah to give him another chance. Would she?

  Chapter 15

  Sarah felt the ache in her shoulder after finishing her physical therapy exercises in the large room. Two weeks had flown by because of her intense desire to regain her health. Next door was an Olympic-size pool, where other wounded soldiers swam to strengthen their torn, healing bodies. Grimacing, she pressed against the pink scar on her right arm. She sat on a floor mat dressed in gray workout pants and a blue tank top. Sweat was rolling off her because the exercises triggered ongoing pain. The sun was just rising over the desert, the rays long and blinding through the window at the other end of the rectangular area.

  Around her, men were lifting weights, exercising, grunting and groaning. She was in good company. Pushing the light film of perspiration off her brow, Sarah slowly got to her feet. Every day, her arm improved. Got stronger.

  She walked over to a wooden bar and picked up her towel. She missed Ethan so damn much the ache was far more painful than her healing limb. Sarah wanted to get back together with him, but she didn’t know how. She had the courage to fly into hell, but she couldn’t find it to tell Ethan she yearned to see him. If only she could see herself the way he saw her, she would feel brave enough to accept his love. Was there any way out of this ugliness that had always been within her? The need to talk to him was eating Sarah alive.

  After she showered, Sarah climbed into a pair of jeans, a pink tank top and sneakers. She allowed her damp hair to fall loose and it curled slightly at the ends around her shoulders. In this hot desert environment, damp hair was cooling for her whole body.

  Emma Trayhern-Shaheen had come over shortly after Ethan had said goodbye to her on the second day at the Bagram hospital. Her friend had been a huge help. That afternoon, Emma was sending her driver over to pick her up and she would have dinner with them. Sarah was looking forward to it.

  As Sarah pushed the door open to go to the bus stop, she gasped. There, coming up the walk, was Ethan. She stopped in her tracks. He saw her and gave her a sheepish, almost apologetic grin of hello. He was wearing his uniform, his M4 in a harness across his chest, SIG in his drop holster on his right thigh and the knife in a sheath strapped to his left calf.

  “Ethan! What are you doing here?” Sarah asked, breathless with joy. She could see the dirt smudges on his face, the gleaming sweat.

  “To see you. What else?” Ethan said, increasing his stride toward her. Would Sarah push him away? Two weeks he’d lived in a special hell. More than ever, he was determined to stop her from running away from him. Whatever was making her run, Ethan wanted to know what it was. They’d face it together. He loved her. He drowned in her shining blue eyes. God, he’d missed her. Glancing left and right, Ethan saw there were way too many people around. But he didn’t give a damn. “Come here,” he growled, gently taking her into his arms, mindful of her injury.

  Sarah’s eyes widened, and she stiffened. Public affection was prohibited in the military. Then she wholeheartedly gave in.

  He slid his fingers through her damp hair, cradling her head, his other arm sliding around her waist, drawing her as close as he dared. His mouth swept down on hers, tasting her and inhaling that special fragrance that was only Sarah. He felt her stop resisting, and she moaned, the vibration filling him; then she melted into his embrace, trusting him fully.

  He eased his mouth from hers and studied her, breathing hard. Sarah’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes a drowsy blue color, telling him she wanted more. So did he.

  Someone approached, and Ethan helped Sarah stand on her own, his hand resting protectively against the small of her back. Looking toward the sound, Ethan saw it was an Army captain in uniform. The man stared at them, reprisal in his eyes, ready to tell them that there was no affection showed in public. Ethan straightened and gave him a don’t-screw-with-me glare of warning.

  The captain noted his silent challenge and walked by without saying a word. Ethan saw Sarah’s concern.

  “Don’t worry,” Ethan urged huskily, touching her chin, giving her a warm look. “Nobody takes on a SEAL.” He gave her a searching look. Would she tell him to leave?

  Rattled, Sarah touched her hair, giving the departing officer a worried look. “I guess so,” she murmured, meeting his dark gray eyes, which burned with desire. “You look whipped,” Sarah said, worried. Ethan had told her they would be going out on a mission soon after he’d left her at the hospital.

  He took off his baseball cap and rubbed the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. “I am. We’ve been out in the Badlands for a week.” He gave her a feral grin. “And we got even with those bastards who jumped us up on that mountain ridge where you rescued two of our SEALs. Mustafa Khogani, who gave us the intel, double-crossed us. I want that bastard. He’s on our platoon’s top five list to take down, and it will happen.”

  “That’s good news. Did you take any more casualties?” Sarah hoped not, understanding as never before how tight the SEALs were with one another. They were a family of a different sort, but family nonetheless. One man being killed or injured powerfully affected the rest of his brothers. It distressed the whole team for days and weeks afterward.

  Shaking his head, Ethan took her arm. “None. We put the Taliban in the hurt locker. Hey, I’m starving. Have you had breakfast yet?” He held his breath, praying she’d say yes.

  Sarah felt her heart spill open with joy as they walked toward one of the many chow halls. “Not yet. I’ll go with you.”

  Ethan settled the cap on his head, walking close to her, their hands occasionally touching. “How’s your arm?”

  Sarah’s cheeks were pink, and it only enhanced the beauty of her eyes. Ethan felt his entire lower body harden, hunger for her to be in his arms once more almost making him detour from food to find a place they could make love to one another. On a base this size, he knew of such places. But that was wishful thinking. Right now, he had to focus on getting Sarah to allow him back into her life. He could see that she was torn. Confused. So was he.

  “Getting better every day,” Sarah admitted softly, flexing her right hand and giving him a look of relief. “Dr. Tisdale did a great job. She says I’m progressing very well. Once I get her to sign me off flight waivers, I’ll have to take a flight test here at Bagram to requalify for medevac pilot status. That won’t be a problem. I’m ready to get back in the saddle. I miss the adrenaline rush.”

  “You’re an adrenaline junkie.” Ethan laughed. “Hell, so are SEALs. We wrote the book on it.” He absorbed Sarah’s breathy laughter, and it felt as if his flesh was being touched by
her voice.

  They made a turn and crossed a street. Ethan remained on the outside of Sarah as they walked down the block. “Do you like being here at Bagram?” he teased, catching her look of chagrin over the question. Ethan was counting the days when she would return to Bravo and to him.

  “I think you know the answer to that. I’d much rather be at Camp Bravo.” And then Sarah took a huge risk, her voice hesitant. “I miss those wonderful poems you gave me.”

  His heart squeezed with joy, but Ethan didn’t let her admission rock his world. Everything was so tentative between them. Fragile glass. God, it could shatter in an instant. He rasped, “I’ve missed the hell out of you, Sarah.” He watched her, admiring how her shoulder-length black hair fell like a shining cape over her proud shoulders.

  Already, the sun was climbing into the sky, promising temperatures over a hundred degrees by noontime. Being in civilian clothes had its advantages, he thought as he appreciated her long legs. He enjoyed the sway of Sarah’s hips, the way that tank top outlined her full breasts. Breasts that he had held in his hands, had felt tighten with need when he’d made love with her. Damn, Ethan needed her back in his life, his arms.

  “I’m trying to…to understand myself right now, Ethan.” Sarah couldn’t force out, I made a horrible mistake in pushing you away. At least not yet. What an emotional coward she was.

  “Let’s just take this one step at a time?” He needed to hear what she was thinking, feeling. There was such anguish in her eyes. Ethan could feel her torn emotions, and she was so tentative in his presence.

  “Yes.” Sarah sighed, trading a quick, shy glance with him. She felt Ethan’s protection, his possessiveness toward her. It wasn’t a bad thing, rather Sarah was beginning to understand that a SEAL was like an alpha male wolf. And he had his alpha female mate: her. The look in his gleaming eyes confirmed that. Sarah would never tire of looking at Ethan. His profile was clean and strong, his skin burned dark by the sun. There was nothing soft about him, except maybe his poet’s soul.

 

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