SEALed With A Kiss: Heroes With Heart

by Low, Gennita

  “She’s all bloodied up, Kit! We need the visuals to show in our article. You know it’d help our readers to understand the problems of…”

  “Sean!” Kit interrupted. “Not tonight. Believe me. The article will be horrible enough without the pictures of Minah’s condition.”

  “What if I make it an order?” Sean asked.

  Lucas walked toward them. He wasn’t going to allow this Sean fellow to threaten Kit, although he seemed more frustrated than angry.

  “Is that a threat?” Kit asked.

  Sean sighed. “No. It’s been a fucking long day, waiting and not knowing whether you’re all right. But we’re missing a good story here, Kit.”

  “We aren’t. We have a lot of material and I have a first person account. Me.”

  Sean nodded, then looked at Lucas standing behind Kit. He gave a small smile and pointed a finger. “Well. Is that a threat?”

  Kit looked back, gave Lucas a frown, and turned back to Sean. “No.”

  “But I could be,” Lucas said in a mild voice.

  “Ah, more like a guard dog,” Sean said, his head cocked slightly as he studied the two of them. “You must be the SEAL who ran off after Kit. I was told you two know each other. How about an interview about a certain raid? No names, of course. I’ve talked to your Lieutenant here and…”

  Kit shook her head. “Sean, go stand over there and we’ll discuss this in a few minutes. Please.” Then she turned to Lucas again. “You aren’t well. You go back there with the waiting doctors and let them take care of you. And here, you’re supposed to drink this down. Now, please. It’s been over an hour since your last one. You have quite a few more of these to go.”

  “Go, Cumber,” Jazz, who had been quietly watching, said, amusement thickening his Cajun accent. “You should follow orders. After all, I was ordered by my wife to come here to prevent the reporters from interrupting her. Look, Hawk’s heading over here now. He’s probably been sent by Amber to stop making a racket. What are we SEALs to do but obey the women?”

  The little jibe brought the level of tension down considerably.

  “I heard that,” Hawk said, when he reached them. “Cumber, you heard your orders. Don’t worry. Kit will be there soon because she has more vials to feed you.”

  It was said in that easy, relaxed way his commander always conveyed, but it was nonetheless an order. He was to report to Medic. Lucas sighed. He’d hoped to avoid another fucking check-up, especially now that he felt one hundred percent better. The looks his two commanders gave him were loud and clear, though.

  With a sigh, he waved his surrender to Kit, turned and trudged off to the waiting medics.

  An hour later, he was still being checked by the base doctor. He sat impatiently, waiting for Kit. She was supposed to show up with the next vial of that magic cocktail. He didn’t care about that. He just wanted her there with him.

  “How long, doc?” He asked.

  “Your heart rate is irregular. We don’t like the second test results, so this is going to take a while, Branson. Lieutenant McMillan told me you’ve been drinking some kind of herbal concoction, that the base of this poison is castor oil, is that right?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Right.”

  “Castor oil is also the base ingredient used to make ricin. You’re showing similar symptoms of ricin poisoning.”

  “I didn’t ingest the poison,” Lucas quickly pointed out.

  The doctor nodded. “I said symptoms. I don’t have any idea what the poison is and we have to get a biopsy to be more conclusive.”

  “Of my wound? Shit.”

  “What? You get stabbed and called it a nick. Now you’re acting like a pussy because we want to nick some bits of flesh off you? Should be like a paper cut, right? What’s the hurry? Is it your girlfriend you’re having a hard-on for?”

  “Absolutely,” Lucas drawled back. “Just move my big hard-on out of the way before you start cutting anything, okay?”

  The doctor laughed. “That’s the Cumber I’m used to.” He took off his gloves. “I’ll go get ready for the…minor…procedure. Meanwhile, your girlfriend is outside. I’ve taken a sample of that concoction of hers for testing too. I’m going to talk to your commanders and teammates to tell them you’ll be here overnight for a kidney flush. Also, no pissing. You know that means a tube up your dick, right?”

  Fucking asshole wanted to hear him cry. “Yeah, right, okay, thank you. Please tell Lieutenant McMillan I need to talk to him.” He needed to report to Hawk about that other truck and the little boy. But first, please, just send Kit in here before he ripped all these needles out of his arm and get to her. He wanted to make sure she was okay.

  After the doctor left, Lucas glared at the shut door. The doorknob finally turned and Kit burst in. She had cleaned up and changed her clothes. She took one look at him and burst into tears, running to the side of his bed. He held her with his free arm.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, now truly worried.

  Her tears were hot against his bare chest. “Just seeing you,” she replied.

  “I don’t look that bad. Hey, it’s okay.” He stroked her hair. Must be delayed shock. It’d been a long day for his girl. “Everything’s going to be fine, even for that young kid. Facial reconstruction would take care of her nose, you’ll see. I’m sure…”

  “It’s not just that,” Kit said, her voice muffled. “Just seeing you here made me realize how close I was to losing you. Don’t lie about your condition like that again.”

  “It’s part of my job, baby. Everything is dangerous.” Including a knife shallowly. embedded in his belt. “We could have died from that grenade coming at us, remember? I was terrified about your safety all day.”

  Actually, he remembered feeling euphoric after the grenade hit the van and didn’t explode. He would always remember Kit dancing her victory hustle. He’d wanted to marry her then.

  “Well, like you’re so fond of saying, I’m fine. I can take care of myself too. I took care of you,” she told him airily, then dangled the vial in front of his nose. “Drink this down, get better, and maybe we can do a lot more spelunking.”

  He choked. “Spelunking?”

  She grinned slyly, her cheeks still damp from her tears. “You know, cave exploration.”

  He laughed. The woman was his soul mate. “I love you,” he told her softly.

  “Is this the part where I tell you I love you back?” She teased.

  “No, you’re to say, ‘I love you more and will never sing Airborne Ranger songs to you ever again.”

  She laughed and snuggled closer. “Can I stay here all night? I don’t want to go out to deal with Sean until tomorrow.”

  She could stay forever by his side. Lucas moved over. She climbed up next to him. “Stay,” he said, lowering his head, “and that’s an order.”

  “I do love you,” she whispered.

  She lifted up her pretty face and met his kiss. He pushed his tongue inside her soft mouth, taking his time to taste her. Her tongue explored his as her hands reached up and laced behind his neck. The sweet taste of her was all the antidote he’d ever need. He reached around and cupped her soft breast—a perfect fit for his hand, he noted—rubbing the material over the nipple. He groaned. Braless.

  Damn doctor better not return that quickly. Or like he’d promised earlier, his hard on was going to be in the way.

  *

  Shahrukh pulled at the yarn, breaking it as it meandered through the cave passages. He bent down to pick one end and started rolling the thread into a ball. A noise alerted him and after a pause, he continued his task.

  “I see you’ve picked up a new hobby.”

  The husky voice, unexpected as a sudden breeze, floated from the shadows, away from the lantern light. It could move or freeze people, that voice. He’d yet to learn how to do that. Number Nine’s effect on people made him a fascinating weapon to study.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he said, concentrating on his chore. “Sending
you here to clean up was a mistake.”

  He had just done his own version of cleaning up. That undertaking was eminently less peaceful than rolling yarn into a ball. He heard movement again and then the shadowy figure appeared. He stopped and studied the man, who returned the favor.

  “You look strange in our native garb, Jed,” Shahrukh observed lightly, “but the stubble does add a movie-star quality.”

  “And you look a lot less than your usual serene self,” Jed said, his strange silver gaze sweeping him from head to toe. Besides the blood on his clothes giving away his recent activities, he was sure Jed had his ways of finding out what had happened. “Killing in cold blood doesn’t settle well, does it? Was it the clean up you sent me for?”

  Shahrukh shook his head. “No. It was personal.”

  “Even more dangerous to the soul.”

  A very profound statement from an assassin. Shahrukh looked at the other man for another long moment. “It had to be done. This other assignment can wait. Like I said, I’ve changed my mind.” He thought of the woman lying in a coma back at Center, the one person who had started to make his friend feel again. “Go home. Be with her. She needs you.” When Jed turned and walked away, he continued, “What if Hell dies while you’re doing your job? You’ll regret it. Don’t you…care?”

  Jed paused in mid-step but didn’t turn around. “Rukh. It’s a pattern in my life. My hands are too bloodstained from death. They contaminate those I…care about. There is no better punishment, so I’ll just do my job. I’ll catch up with you in Karakoram. I think I might go and watch your friend Zerya for a while. An interesting woman.”

  Shahrukh didn’t stop his fellow COS commander as he strode off down the tunnel. He would return soon enough because he was Number Nine, the one in his unit who finished a Virus mission. He knew Shahrukh would give him the assignment sooner or later. That last jibe was meant to distract him from probing any further about his mental condition.

  Zerya was in no danger and she was capable of making decisions and taking care of herself. Besides, Jed’s mind was on another far more interesting woman, one who could move a cold bastard like him.

  Punishment? That word carried a lot of emotional baggage. His friend was in worse shape than he’d thought.

  “Karakoram,” he murmured in agreement. Where the soulless go to trade.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‡

  Charleston,

  Two months later

  Kit took pictures of her friend Lulu and Mink sharing a huge glass of some kind of blue mixed drink. Sitting across the booth table, they both had their lips pursed on the rim of the glass in between them. Right at the moment she clicked the button, Mink made one of his godawful faces, his mouth grotesquely wide open, one eye half-shut. Predictably, Lulu squealed.

  “Can’t you just take a normal photo with me?” She asked in disgust. “Every photo we have together looks like I’m sitting next to a monster.”

  Mink grinned. “I think I look great in those photos.”

  “Kit, do something!” Her friend pleaded.

  Kit shook her head. Mink was a gorgeous man, with a killer smile that could melt snow, but he was a member of an elite Navy SEAL team. She suspected his playfulness was partly because of his job and an unwillingness to have his face identified and partly because he loved to tease Lulu. Maybe mostly the latter because she noticed Mink had the biggest smile whenever Lulu got riled up.

  “Please, Mink,” Kit said, smiling sweetly. “It’s Valentine’s Day, not Halloween. Let’s make an exception and give Lulu a photo to remember this day, without the faces. I know about your fear of your perfect model looks being captured in a still, but I promise, this one will be in a private album for just us girls.”

  “Aw, Mink, relent a bit, dude. Kit is begging,” Dirk, who was leaning against the far end glass window so Kit could take her picture, said. “Also, hear my pleas. I’m hungry.”

  Mink let out an exaggerated sigh and looked across at Lucas, sitting next to her. “With your permission, sir, may I have a smiley photo with your sister?”

  “Hey!” Lulu huffed. “Why do you always ask him first, dammit?”

  “Well, seeing that it’s Valentine’s Day,” Lucas drawled. “You have my permission.”

  “Thank you, Cumber,” Mink said then grinned at Kit. He pushed the big glass away and scooted closer to Lulu. Putting an arm around her shoulders, his grin turned into a charming smile. “Hurry up, this one’s free. Next one’s going to cost ya.”

  “Okay!” Kit said. “Lulu, say ‘cheese!’”

  She leaned closer to get a closer shot and just as her forefinger came down to click on the button, Mink turned Lulu into his arms. A startled Lulu grabbed his shoulder to steady herself. He leaned forward and planted a deep kiss on her friend’s lips.

  Click.

  “Oh my! Rhett! You do give a damn!” Kit teased, affecting Miss Clementine’s very southern accent. “Classic pose! Looks good, Lulu!”

  Her friend straightened up and pushed Mink away. Her face was flushed and her voice, just a little breathy. “The last time he was Rhett Butler he had two straws up his nose for a moustache. One cannot unsee that in one’s brain.”

  “The kiss was meant to befuddle you, my dear.”

  “Frankly, I don’t give a damn,” Lulu sniped back pertly.

  Everyone chuckled. Kit set her slim camera on the window ledge, along with her smart phone. With those two children across the table, she didn’t want to chance any of her of electronic stuff getting wet.

  This Valentine’s Day was perfect. The Stooges had the rest of the week off and had come to town and she’d just finished her interview with Minah, who was still in a special military hospital in Virginia. Lucas had kissed her senseless the moment she’d arrived at the airport.

  They’d gone off to say hi to her mom and dad who had met Lucas when he was rehabilitating in the hospital in Germany. They got on great, although dad managed to slide in a couple of SEAL jokes which Lucas had politely taken in good humor.

  Yay, both sets of Parental Units had given their approval.

  They had all first met in Germany. They’d actually flown there to see Kit when she’d called them up about not coming home with the media team for a few more weeks. After hearing her story and how Lucas’ poisoning had a setback and needed more sophisticated care, Kit’s father had called in some favors and before she knew it, both her parents were knocking at her room in the military hospital. It so happened Lucas’ parents were by his bedside too and their families had the chance to bond over her boyfriend’s injury.

  She leaned against Lucas’ arm. It’d been a month and a half since his hospital stay but she was still worried about him. The doctors had assured her his kidney wasn’t badly damaged but still, they hadn’t known about the dangerous aftereffects of the poison, so how could they know if he was one hundred percent?

  Lucas, of course, was just glad to be out. He hated everything at the hospital. He hated being the only one on his team sick and was the worst patient ever. He hated the hospital food. He hated being confined in the room with needles sticking out of him. He hated to be in the hospital skirt, as he called it. Boy, hate was not a strong enough word.

  All she cared about was he was here with her. But just in case, she’d kept that card Mr. Shahrukh had given her. Whoever he was, he’d saved Lucas’ life and even if she might not need to ask him for any antidote potion any more, she did want to thank him.

  It was so typical of the Stooges, though, to choose Chinese food for Valentine’s Day. The restaurant had a Valentine Special and the owner, who came out to greet them effusively like they were old friends, placed all the orders himself.

  Lucas had just shrugged and said, “Bring it on. I need real food after the last two months.”

  When the food arrived, Kit wanted to giggle. Everything was served on pink plates. There were artfully cut and arranged pink vegetable and fruit at the side of each dish. The guys were hu
gely amused and Lucas didn’t seem too bothered.

  “Pink cucumber, dude!” Mink said. “You’ll never live it down.”

  “Look at that pink pearly thing. Are those peas?”

  “If you wait a bit, all the dishes will be out soon,” the owner said. “In China, it’s tradition to have all the dishes in the middle and everyone shares the meal, like a happy family.”

  Lucas nodded. “Everything looks great. I love it,” he declared.

  Kit stared at him. He seemed normal. Actually, he looked freaking hot in his shirt and pants. His hair had grown longer and was slicked back. She loved the way it curled around the collar and wished he didn’t have to cut those pretty locks off ever again. Being in special operations had some advantages. The men sometimes had to blend in with the local fighters and her brothers had returned home looking very unmilitary a time or two before.

  As they waited, conversation drifted to the usual banter and then the men were deep in discussion about the call that just came in from Hawk. She knew, from what Lucas divulged, it had to do with that strange little boy who was shouting at them. Something about a message and deciphering it. Because the kid was yelling military slang, Lucas could remember most of them. Hawk had agreed that it merited a closer look and would point it out in his report to the Admiral. Was that boy really giving some kind of message? She smiled secretly. Lucas didn’t know it but she’d jotted down a lot of what sounded like military slang coming from that boy into her notebook. She’d have to sit down and look through her pile of notes and find it. Perhaps there could be a new story in there.

  Already, Minah’s story was becoming a sensation. Sean had insisted on giving her a lot of the credit even though the prep work was a team effort. She’d become part of the story now and a connection to Minah, who had bravely given her permission to take photographs of her face. The young girl was still without a nose but her attitude was amazingly positive. Her caretakers and staff of doctors had taken the effort to make her comfortable and she was excited about finally being in the United States and perhaps meeting Malala, the other Afghan girl who was shot in the head by the Taliban.