by Lori Wilde
“I work for the DPA. This is where they’ve sent me.”
He cursed and raked one hand through his hair. Elena watched, mesmerized, recalling the silky texture of those strands.
“You told me you were going to Shangri-la. I thought it was a joke. At the time, I figured you were heading back to the States.”
Elena arched an eyebrow at him. “Sorry to disappoint you. I couldn’t recall the name of the base, only that it sounded like Shangri-la.”
Chase made a gesture of frustration. “I checked the manifest this morning, and it said you were going to Baghdad, to the Green Zone.”
He’d checked the manifest! That information wasn’t available to just anyone, and Elena was warmed to think he’d cared enough to find out where she was going.
“Obviously you didn’t go to Iraq,” he continued. “So how the hell did you end up on my base?”
Elena frowned, not liking his tone. Was he implying that she’d purposely come to Sharlana because she knew he was here? “I don’t know what manifesto you were looking at, but I can assure you that I am assigned to this base. Originally, yes, I was supposed to go to Iraq, but my orders got changed at the last minute.” She hesitated. “Do you have a particular problem with my being here?”
“Damn straight I have a problem with it.” He took a step toward her, his gaze raking over her. “This is no place for a woman, and certainly not a woman like you.”
Elena bristled. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
Chase made a growling sound of frustration. “Jesus, Elena, do I need to spell it out? Look at you! You have no military background, no experience with life on a forward operating base. This place is hard enough for men to deal with, without having the added burden of a civilian female to worry about.”
Elena’s chin lifted. “I can take care of myself, Chase. Besides, there’s another civilian woman here. Why aren’t you bitching at her, too?”
He frowned. “I am not bitching at you. I’m just telling you that Sharlana is not an easy place to live. Besides,” he swept her with another cold glance, “I saw the other woman and I can assure you that she’s unlikely to distract the men, whereas you…”
“Oh. My. God.” Elena stared at him in dawning comprehension. “I can’t believe this.” She gave a disbelieving laugh. “You are such a male chauvinist!”
“I am not a male chauvinist,” he protested. “I just hap pen to believe that there are certain places a woman doesn’t belong, and here is one of them.”
“Why?” she challenged. “Because you think I’ll distract the men? That’s ludicrous.”
“Is it?” he asked drily. “The men on this base have explicit instructions not to give females—or civilians—preferential treatment. Yet there they were, carrying your gear like a couple of lackeys.”
“I was tired. Pete was being a gentleman.”
“Pete?” he repeated in disbelief. “Jesus, you just met the guy ten minutes ago and you’re already on a first-name basis?”
“Why not?” Her tone was deceptively silken. “Look where you and I were after just twenty minutes.”
His eyes grew hot, and if Elena hadn’t known better, she might have thought he was jealous. “He’s not Pete,” he ground out. “He’s Corporal Cleary and he’s on duty. This isn’t a Virginia tearoom, Miss de la Vega, and there are no bellhops or doormen to do your bidding. Here, everyone pulls their own weight or they get sent home.”
“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Elena asked, feeling equally hurt and angered by his manner. To think, she’d actually been excited to see him again.
“Damn straight I would. In fact, I may just insist upon it.”
“You wouldn’t!” Elena gasped, outraged. “I came here to do a job, and I’m not leaving just because you’re uncomfortable having me around.” She hesitated as a thought struck her. “If it’s about last night…”
“It’s not,” he insisted. “I’d feel the same way if I’d never seen you before today. But since you brought it up, now is a good time to inform you that sex is not permitted on this base. Or any other military installation in the Middle Eastern theater, for that matter.”
“Don’t worry,” Elena snapped, giving him what she hoped was a disdainful look. “There’s nobody—nobody—here that I’m interested in having sex with.”
“Good,” he snapped back. “You might want to make that clear to Pete.”
Elena narrowed her eyes. Could it be possible that he was jealous? She might have forgiven his obnoxious behavior if she thought that was the cause, but he’d made it clear that he was less than happy to see her. More likely, he was one of those old-school kind of guys who thought a woman’s place was in the bedroom.
“I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation,” Elena said. “Pete—Corporal Cleary—said that you’re special ops, and I realize they don’t let women into their ranks. But in case you haven’t noticed, women have finally been accepted in the military.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” he said meaningfully.
“But you don’t like it,” Elena finished for him.
Chase made a growling sound and Elena was unprepared when he advanced on her. “You’re not getting it. Out here, this is a man’s world. I don’t have a problem with women in the military. I have a problem with assigning women—especially civilian women—to troops that in the past have been designated as all male.”
“And why is that?” she asked. She tipped her chin up, but took an involuntary step backward. “Because you think we can’t handle it?”
“No,” he snarled. “Because I don’t think the men can handle it. Think about it. There are lots of young males and damn few females here. The men can’t go outside the base to look for sex, so they look inside. The shortage of women creates competition and poisons the work atmosphere with distrust and animosity, not to mention lust. Even if the situation doesn’t erupt into overt rape, it will always be disruptive and undermine the cohesion, morale and discipline that these missions require. Now do you get it?”
Elena’s heart hammered hard in her chest. “Are you saying I’m in danger from your men?” she finally asked, swallowing hard.
“I’m saying that you need to think long and hard before you bat your eyelashes in their direction, or play the damsel in distress and have one of them come running to carry your gear.” He swept her with a long look. “Nobody could blame them for getting the wrong idea. Some of these boys have been out here for a year or more, and any one of them would bend over backward for just a smile from you.”
“But not you.”
Even as the words left her mouth, Elena wished them back. She sounded bitter and jealous, and the last thing she wanted was for Chase to think that she wanted him to notice her in that way, or to bend over backward to please her.
“No,” he agreed quietly. “Not me. There’s a time and place for that, and it’s not here. And while we’re at it, you’re to address me as First Sergeant McCormick or sir, is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” Elena retorted, her voice as chilly as his.
“Try to understand. We’re in a combat environment, Elena, and each person on this base has a responsibility to see to their own safety. You’ll receive no special treatment from me or any of the other men,” he continued, “so if you can’t handle that, you should think about leaving.”
“Not a chance,” she snapped. “I’m here to stay, sir, and the sooner you get that through your head, the easier it will be for you. Are we done here?”
“We’re done. Just remember what I’ve said, Elena. The rules are for your own safety.”
Elena snorted her disbelief. “Just tell me where my quarters are so that I can go and clean up.” She swept him with a scathing look. “And while we’re at it, I’ll ask you to address me as Ms. de la Vega or ma’am.”
She watched as his lips tightened. Had she really thought his mouth delectable? He was a bastard, through and through, and her only regret was th
at she’d actually enjoyed their night together. More than enjoyed it. Sex with Chase McCormick had eclipsed every other pleasure she’d experienced in her life.
This whole horrible encounter would have been so much easier if he’d been terrible in bed, but the fact was he’d been amazing. All three times. And as much as she told herself that she was better off having nothing to do with him, a part of her desperately wanted a repeat performance.
5
FROM THE DOORWAY of his office, Chase watched Elena struggle to carry her duffel bags. Her slender shoulders bowed under their weight, and his hands clenched at his sides. Every instinct in his body demanded that he go down and help her. He’d seen the shadows under her eyes. She was exhausted, and he was largely to blame. She hadn’t gotten any sleep because of him.
Memories of the previous night rushed back, and he ran a hand across his eyes to dispel the erotic images. He’d known it would be a huge mistake to sleep with Elena, yet he’d been unable to resist. She was too tempting. Too feminine. Too entirely appealing.
But as much as he physically wanted her, he absolutely didn’t want her at Sharlana. The remote, mountainous region frequently came under attack from the Taliban, and current intelligence reports suggested another one could come at any time. The recent death of eight civilians at the hands of insurgents less than fifty miles away only served to emphasize the danger they were in.
What if he couldn’t keep her safe?
More than six months had passed since he’d witnessed the ambush on the supply convoy in Iraq, but he’d never forget how the gunner had abandoned his post to try and protect the female truck driver, and they’d both been shot by insurgents as a result. After the attack, Chase had made inquiries and learned that both soldiers would survive their injuries. He’d also learned that the two soldiers had been romantically involved.
The experience had only confirmed his belief that women had no place in combat. Most men of his acquaintance had been raised to believe that women were weaker and required protection. To expect those same men to let a woman fend for herself in combat was unrealistic. Better to keep the woman out of danger in the first place.
Just the thought of anything happening to Elena caused his chest to tighten and a sick sensation to unfurl in his stomach. He didn’t object to civilians working alongside the military, but he seriously objected to civilian women—especially Elena—being sent to remote bases like Sharlana. The conditions were too harsh. Even if he could ensure her safety, she wasn’t cut out for life on a forward operating base.
She was soft. Literally. Even now, he could recall the satiny texture of her skin, feel the lushness of her lips pressed against his. She wasn’t a woman who was accustomed to physical exertion; the demands he’d made on her last night had left her weak as a kitten. He couldn’t envision her lasting through an Afghan winter.
She’d been asleep when the alarm on his wristwatch had gone off, reminding him that he had less than forty minutes to change into his combat gear, grab his shit and make it to the airstrip. Not wanting to wake her up, he’d scrawled a brief note on the hotel stationery and had tucked it into her duffel bag for her to find later. He’d had just enough time to stop by the embassy and scan the most recent lists, where he’d been relieved to find her name among those scheduled to go to Camp Victory in Baghdad. Shangri-la, indeed. At the large military base, she’d have all the amenities of home, including fast-food restaurants, shopping opportunities and decent living quarters. Most importantly, she’d be well protected. He just hadn’t realized that her orders had been changed since that list had been printed.
When he’d first caught sight of her walking across the base at Sharlana, he’d been stunned. He’d thought of her more than he cared to admit—even to himself—since he’d left her bed. At first he’d believed he was imagining things; that he wanted her so much that his mind was playing tricks on him. His next reaction had been a fierce pleasure at seeing her again, followed immediately by anger. What the hell was she doing here? For a brief instant, he’d wondered if she’d somehow learned where he was headed and had managed to follow him. But according to Elena, she was at Sharlana on legitimate business as a contract administrator, although he intended to find out why her orders had been changed at the last minute. And the hell of it was, he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He was special ops; he and his men only used Sharlana as an operating base for covert forays across the border into Pakistan. He had no authority over Elena, and even his threats to have her sent back to the States didn’t carry any weight.
Only she didn’t know that.
As he watched her from the doorway, Corporal Cleary approached Elena. He glanced in Chase’s direction and almost defiantly reached out and took the duffel bags from Elena. Chase watched as Elena tried to argue with him, but Cleary shook his head and continued walking until Elena had no choice but to follow him.
Chase frowned, unfamiliar with the odd, clenching sensation in his chest. He wanted to be the one walking Elena to her new quarters. He wanted to be the guy who made life easier for her—but he wouldn’t be a hypocrite. He firmly believed that women had no place on a remote base like Sharlana. Their very presence created a distraction that could prove dangerous, both to themselves and the men who sought to protect them. He wasn’t unfeeling, and he’d do what he could to keep them safe, but he couldn’t afford to let his men lose their focus.
Elena and Corporal Cleary stopped in front of a hut at the far end of the housing area, about five doors from the unit where Chase himself was staying with his team. He groaned inwardly. Bad enough that they were on the same base, but knowing she was so close would be a distraction that he didn’t need. Chase blew out a hard breath. He had no clue how he’d stay focused, knowing Elena was just feet away.
ELENA OPENED THE DOOR of her living quarters and stared in dismay at the cramped interior. The space had been divided into eight tiny compartments, each one with a cot and a crudely constructed nightstand and shelf. Elena had expected austere living conditions, but she hadn’t been prepared for this. She’d thought Larry was exaggerating when he’d said she’d be sharing a B-hut with twenty other women. Just imagining his smug expression if he knew the truth was enough for her to square her shoulders and step determinedly inside. Sharing space with seven other women would be a piece of cake. She might prefer privacy, but she didn’t need it to survive. After all, she’d grown up with two sisters and a mother who had invented the word drama. This would be easy by comparison.
The farthest compartment was occupied by the older woman who had traveled with her on the helicopter, and Elena saw she was unpacking her duffel bags and attempting to make her little space homier. Only the tiny cubicle nearest the door was free of personal gear.
“Sergeant Corrente said we could take whichever compartments we wanted, and I didn’t want to be near the door,” the woman said in way of explanation. “I’m Sylvia Dobbs, by the way. I’m a quality inspector from the San Antonio DPA office. How about you?”
Elena dumped her duffel bags on the floor of the empty cubicle. “I’m Elena de la Vega, from the HQ office. I’ll be working at the contracting center.”
“It must be nice to actually know somebody here, and especially someone so handsome,” Sylvia said, smoothing a small, brightly colored throw blanket over her cot, but Elena didn’t miss the curiosity in the other woman’s voice.
Elena sat down on the bare mattress of the narrow bed, frowning at the unyielding surface. “I don’t really know him. At least not well. And I’m not so sure he’s all that happy to see me.” She didn’t want to talk about Chase. “How long did the sergeant say we had before dinner?”
“An hour or so. Enough time to unpack and maybe catch a quick nap.” Sylvia yawned hugely. “I’m wiped out, so I’m going to lay down for a little bit. The sergeant said to tell you that there’s a supply office in the warehouse at the end of the road. If you need anything you can get it there. Otherwise, he’ll come to get us for dinner,
and then we have to attend a base-orientation class with the other folks who came in today.”
“Did he say how long that might take?”
“Maybe an hour. He said we’ll go over safety and security procedures, then we’ll take a quick tour of the base and see where we’ll be working while we’re here.”
“Who’s sleeping in the other beds?” Elena asked, noting the photos and stickers that the occupants had affixed to the plywood walls.
“Soldiers,” Sylvia said. “Female soldiers. With our luck they probably get up at the crack of dawn.”
Elena slanted Sylvia an amused look. “I’m sure we’re expected to get up at the crack of dawn, too. I was told we’ll be working twelve- and fourteen-hour days, seven days a week. There is no sleeping late.”
Sylvia stilled, then resumed smoothing the blankets on her bed. When she spoke, her voice was so quiet that Elena almost didn’t hear her. “I hope I didn’t make a huge mistake in coming here.”
“Why did you come here?”
The other woman turned toward Elena, and hesitated before speaking. “I just went through a nasty divorce. Unfortunately, my ex made out better in the settlement than I did.” She shrugged. “I needed a change of scenery, and the money was too good to pass up.”
Elena felt a pang of sympathy for her. “I’m sure that being here will take some getting used to, but you’ll be fine.”
She bounced experimentally on the bed, wincing at the unforgiving surface. Standing up, she examined the cot, seeing that she’d only been provided with a box spring, but no mattress. There was no way she could sleep on the bed without a mattress. She tried to see what Sylvia had on her bed, but the other woman had already covered the surface with her sleeping bag and the throw blanket. The other beds were also covered with sleeping bags, so it was difficult to determine if they had mattresses, or not.
“Maybe I’ll take a walk over to the supply office and let you get some sleep.” She looked doubtfully around the hut. “He didn’t say where the bathroom is located, did he?”