Show of Force

by A. J. Quinn

  And Evan’s mouth—God, it was sinfully sensuous. With considerable effort, Tate swallowed and drew her eyes away from the tantalizing mouth. “So, Commander Kane, are you going to tell me what happened to your wrist?”

  “Can you believe it? I fell on my ass during my first physio session,” Evan confessed with a mildly embarrassed half grin. “I have to admit it wasn’t the most auspicious beginning. It also begs the question what the hell happened to the coordination I used to have that enabled me to fly an F/A-18.”

  “Or dance the tango.”

  “My point exactly.” The grin widened. “Not to worry, though. As luck would have it, there was an emergency department with doctors in it close by. And I’m pleased to report the wrist’s not broken, just a mild sprain.”

  Tate couldn’t help but laugh. She drew nearer and touched Evan’s arm just above the line of the brace. “I’m glad to hear that. But I bet this makes using those crutches an absolute bear.” She reached out with a hesitant hand, gently brushed back a fall of dark, silky hair, and tucked some loose strands behind one ear, breathing deeply as she drew in her scent. “You smell nice.”

  Evan chuckled, momentarily leaning into Tate’s touch. “Thank God I had a shower, then. You wouldn’t have wanted to get this close to me if you’d been here earlier. In spite of the sponge baths the medical people were giving me, I was starting to offend myself. Khalid’s goat came to mind.”

  “Have I ever told you I have a fondness for goats?” Tate asked softly. She suddenly realized no one else was around. This was the first time she had found herself alone with an alert and fully conscious Evan in forever, and she edged closer still, until they were as near as they could get without actually touching.

  But not for long. With slightly trembling hands, she reached up and cradled Evan’s face. So eerily beautiful despite the evidence of violence. She noticed for the first time a faint crescent-shaped scar on her forehead, just above her right eyebrow, and a thousand questions sprang to mind. She wanted to know what had happened. She wanted to ask how she was doing. What she was feeling. And thinking.

  She felt a deep, aching familiarity and allowed herself to be caught up in the intense pull of their undeniable chemistry. It left her wanting to do something to prolong the moment. Her heart thundered in her chest and her pulse skyrocketed as awareness shimmered between the two of them, and she began to wonder why she was waiting, resisting, when the attraction was so obviously strong.

  And oh God, it’s been so long.

  More than anything, she desperately wanted to reacquaint herself with Evan’s beautiful mouth. To taste her lips, her tongue, her skin. Just the memory made her mouth water.

  Held captive by Evan’s proximity, overwhelmed by the intensity of her longing, Tate struggled to hold back. Lulling Evan’s senses with her touch, she skimmed her fingers along her cheek and continued to play with the loose strands of black hair, hoping she wasn’t moving faster than Evan was able to handle.

  “Have your parents been by to see you this morning? Are they around?”

  “Hmm, no.” Evan’s voice was distant. Distracted. “One of the nurses said Althea called earlier to check up on me. They assured her I was fine. Told her I was up, and in fact, I was scheduled for my first physio session. So Althea said something about making a leisurely morning of it with Dad and asked the nurse to tell me they’d come by this afternoon. I think she may start avoiding me now that I’m fully conscious and capable of responding coherently when she talks to me.”

  “It’s possible…but they’re not around? We’re actually alone?”

  Evan nodded her head. Her smile was absolutely devastating.

  “Thank God. Because I’ve been waiting to kiss you since forever.”

  Tate knew she was dreaming. She’d fantasized about Evan’s mouth, but not a single fantasy could prepare her for the reality of kissing Evan again. A wave of heat washed over her as the familiarity of Evan’s body slid past her defenses, and she captured Evan’s lips with exquisite tenderness.

  Holding her, touching her, kissing her with all the passion of pent-up longing. Indulging in something she’d done only in her dreams for much too long. This was what she’d been aching to do. To hold her, to feel her warmth, her softness and strength, as she tightened her arms around her.

  Her heart sang and her blood heated. She buried her hands in the fragrant softness of Evan’s hair. She tried to speak, tried to tell Evan what this moment meant, but all she could say was her name, over and over again. She heard Evan’s soft intake of breath. Then the rest of the world faded, and for the first time in months, Tate felt whole.

  I thought I’d lost her forever.

  She gripped Evan tighter and wished they could be somewhere else. Anywhere else. She knew she couldn’t live without her, without this, and the reality of having Evan back in her arms was so much better than good. It was everything.

  How many nights during the last few months had she stayed awake, reliving Evan’s touch? How many times had she remembered how Evan felt beneath her? Above her? Inside her?

  How many times had she remembered her taste? Imagined her scent?

  She’d longed for this, hungered for this, in so many ways. And this was no dream. This was real. Evan was warm and alive and in her arms. Her lips were still soft and sweet, just as she remembered. She tasted of peppermint and joy. And she was kissing her back, responding to Tate’s passionate assault with soft moans and a deepening, sensuous kiss that went on forever, conveying a need as powerful as her own.

  There’d never been anything quite like kissing Evan Kane. In part because of how Evan responded. Tate loved knowing she could make her breathless. Equally loved how Evan could turn a kiss into an act that said everything.

  She could feel Evan’s heartbeat quicken. Every touch, every sigh just made her want more, and she moved her arms around her neck, pulling Evan closer still. The loose knot holding her hair started to unravel and she threaded her fingers through the tendrils that were drifting down, tangling her hands in the dark, silky strands.

  On some level, she realized Evan was weaving slightly on her crutches. But she couldn’t help herself. Couldn’t stop herself from prolonging the embrace as her mind simply stopped functioning and her body took control. Want and need collided, and a small sigh escaped as Tate tugged gently at Evan’s bottom lip with her teeth. Evan’s mouth parted, warm and inviting, and she took full advantage, deepening the kiss until she felt Evan melt, going limp in her arms.

  They fit against each other so perfectly. As good as—no, better—than she remembered.

  She felt as much as heard the rough groan that came from deep in Evan’s throat. And then she was lost. Lost in the feel of Evan against her, in the taste of Evan, in the memories. Lost in everything that was Evan.

  She knew this was what they had both needed.

  A kiss of remembrance.

  A kiss of healing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tate had no idea how long she and Evan remained lost in a heated embrace before awareness slowly returned. Reality intruded as a sound coming from somewhere near the door. It brought her back into the present with a jolt, and she ended the kiss, abruptly pulling away. Evan swayed awkwardly and one of her crutches clattered to the floor. Tate immediately reached for her, felt her sharp intake of breath, and held Evan steady while trying not to add to the bruises already covering most of her body.

  Struggling with her composure, Tate caught her breath. What the hell had she been thinking? How could she have forgotten where she was? In a military hospital, for Christ’s sake, with Robert and Althea Kane due at any moment. But she hadn’t been thinking, had she? She’d simply been reacting, her body going into hyperdrive, just as it had always done whenever she found herself anywhere near Evan.

  “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot,” she murmured and gave herself a mental headshake. “Are you all right?”

  Evan held on to her and rested her head against Tate’s shoulder
. “Working on it,” she said as she closed her eyes. “And I’m not sorry at all. But whatever you do, please don’t let go, because right now, I think you’re the only thing keeping me off the floor, and I’ve already done that once today.”

  “Not letting go,” Tate reassured her softly. “Not a chance.”

  With the memory Evan’s scent and taste filling her mind, Tate settled Evan’s body against her once again. Cupping the back of her neck, she gently pressed Evan’s head to her shoulder, instinctively tugging her closer in a protective gesture. Holding her there, sheltered in her arms, before she finally looked up.

  She felt a nearly instantaneous burst of relief when she saw Alex and Nick. They were standing in the doorway like bookends. One light, one dark, each leaned against a side of the door frame wearing similar expressions on their faces.

  “You two believe in living dangerously, don’t you.” Nick smiled as he strode into the room.

  Alex had a slight grin of his own as he followed Nick. “Dad and Althea could be standing here. The two of you really need to remember where you are.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Tate mumbled apologetically and threw a wry grin of her own.

  Alex stopped just in front of Evan, and as he surveyed her carefully, his smile slowly widened. “Hello, little sister,” he said. “You still look like shit, but you certainly smell a hell of a lot better than you did yesterday.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Evan repeated. Amusement flitted across her face and there was a hint of laughter in her voice. “By the way, thanks for the clothes, big brother. This is a huge improvement over the hospital gown they had me in, and I loved the thong. But maybe next time you could aim for something that fits a little bit better.”

  “Then maybe you should try eating something because if you ask me, you’re too damned skinny.”

  Evan tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. “Actually, I believe it was one of Althea’s people who once told me a woman can never be too thin. I think I was fifteen at the time.”

  “Hey, I remember her,” Alex said. “Wasn’t she the skinny bitch who said you needed to wear skirts because otherwise we looked too much alike and it confused her?”

  Tate bit her lower lip and tried not to laugh, watching and waiting as brother and sister stared at each other for a long, silent moment. And then Alex did something he hadn’t been able to do in months. He pulled Evan out of Tate’s arms and into his own, holding her close.

  “I can’t say I care much for what you let them do to our face,” Alex said, placing a kiss on the tip of Evan’s nose.

  “I can’t say I care much for it, either.” Evan sighed. “But the doctor assured me I’ll be recognizable in another couple of weeks.”

  Alex moved back slightly and touched his hand to her face, trailed his thumb over the deep bruise marring the curve of her cheek. “That’ll be good. Almost as good as seeing you awake and talking, even if you do look like hell.” His expression grew somber as he continued to stare at her.

  Evan felt the intensity of his gaze. “What?”

  Unexpectedly, Alex started to shake. His hands. His body. His voice. “Fuck. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this. That I wouldn’t fall apart.”

  The warmth and humor Evan had seen just a moment earlier vanished instantly and she found herself staring into Alex’s face. A face she would have said she knew as well as her own, but suddenly couldn’t read.

  “Alex? What’s going on?” Trying to reassure but not certain what to do or say, Evan released the remaining crutch she’d been holding, letting it bounce against the bed before it fell to the floor while she looped her arms around her brother’s neck.

  Aware she had always been the stronger of the two, she placed a kiss on his cheek, another on his brow. She could feel Alex’s heart beating hard and fast but couldn’t identify the cause for his obvious distress as a heavy, awkward silence saturated the air. Gently, she rubbed his neck with her uninjured hand and held him close to her.

  “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” she whispered softly. “Just tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it together. Same as always.”

  Alex closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and said nothing. When he finally opened his eyes, his expression was uncharacteristically serious and his voice was thick with emotion. “I’m pretty sure I told you I’d never forgive you if you let anything happen to you.”

  “I’m fine, Alex, so there’s nothing to forgive.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” Alex responded harshly. “Do you honestly think I can’t guess what it’s been like for you? I mean…damn it all, I know you went through hell. You don’t need to tell me, I just have to look at you to know that. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “Nothing much happened to me.”

  “Right, nothing much happened. That’s why we all went to your funeral. Because nothing much happened to you. Dad couldn’t say your name without getting choked up, and I actually caught Althea holding your picture and crying. I’ve felt so damned guilty every time anyone looked at me, knowing it was my fault. Christ, I haven’t been able to pick up a paintbrush in over four months.”

  Evan felt suddenly cold. Every nerve in her body became still and she struggled to draw a deep breath. “You went to my funeral?”

  “Jesus Christ, Evan. Of course I went to your funeral. You’re my sister. What the hell do you think? Me, Nick, Tate—we all went together.”

  Evan turned to look over her shoulder, automatically seeking out Tate with her eyes. Desperately wanting her to say it wasn’t true, to offer some kind of denial. Some kind of explanation. But when she saw the expression on Tate’s face, she knew what she was getting instead was confirmation. She swallowed and looked away.

  She could feel her body start to react and fisted her hands. She suddenly felt weak and tired and vulnerable, and prayed—no, begged—for Alex to stop talking. To stop saying things she now knew she wasn’t ready to hear. But the twin telepathy failed her.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Alex was saying. “We’re all beyond thrilled with how everything’s turned out. Being told it was a mistake and you weren’t really dead. Being told you’d been captured and the powers that be were negotiating your release. It was un-freaking-believable—like a dream come true. But don’t you see? It’s all so damned surreal, and I’m just finding it a little difficult to take in, that’s all.”

  Time remained suspended as Evan tried to put all the disparate pieces of what Alex was saying together into a cohesive story. “Alex?” She tilted her head back, feeling dazed, and in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, she held out a faint hope she had somehow misunderstood. “Do me a favor and slow down a bit. Please?” Her voice was strained, barely a whisper, and she tried to clear her throat. “I’d really like to understand. Now, can we try again? What are you talking about?”

  His face flushed, Alex moved Evan back a little, holding her at arm’s length. “When the navy told us you’d been shot down, that you’d been killed, I didn’t want to believe them,” he said softly. “Part of me believed you had to be alive. You’re my twin, for Christ’s sake. I would have felt something if you were really dead, wouldn’t I? But I didn’t. I didn’t feel you gone and I should have forced the issue. I should have made them go back and keep looking for you until they found you.”

  “Alex—” Tate said softly, but Evan stopped her before she could say anything else.

  “No, let him finish,” she said flatly.

  Alex blinked and seemed confused. “There’s not much more to tell. About a month after you were shot down, we were told there was nothing else to be done. The navy said they weren’t going to be able to recover your body. So we buried an empty casket with full military honors and blindly moved on with our lives, not knowing any better. Don’t you see?”

  No. No. No. She didn’t see.

  “That’s what’s making this so damned hard. Seeing you and the way you looked after Tate brought you here. Imagining what had been
done to you.”

  Alex’s words sent chills up her spine. This wasn’t happening. Staring without really seeing anything, Evan could feel something twist inside her and swore softly.

  Alex clearly misunderstood and smiled at her. An achingly sweet and tender smile she hadn’t seen for much too long. “Exactly, little sister. But now, well, now we’ve got you back.” He gave her a squeeze that was no doubt meant to be reassuring. “And as soon as the doctors tell us you’re able to travel, we’re going to take you home. Wait until you see—”

  Evan caught Alex off guard when she suddenly pushed herself out of his arms. She took an awkward step back and nearly stumbled in the process, her leg screaming with the strain, her muscles threatening to liquefy. She would have fallen but for Tate’s quick move to catch her and hold her steady.

  Almost as quickly, she pulled herself away from Tate’s arms with a surprising show of strength that came with a harsh price. But she used the pain radiating from her leg to help her withdraw into herself, desperately trying to shut everything out even as it hit her. All the horror, emptiness, and pain that had filled her life for the past few months.

  “Evan? What is it?” Tate asked, watching as Evan stood unsteadily with arms wrapped tightly around herself and her bare feet planted on the cool tile. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. I can help.”

  “You can’t fix this. No one can.”

  The words were whispered so quietly Tate almost missed them. But she didn’t miss the look of defeat in Evan’s face, superimposed over the signs of illness and violence and strain that still marked her. Before she could turn away, Tate glimpsed the raw emotions swirling in Evan’s eyes.

  She tried replaying what had just happened and then it dawned on her. “Oh God. You didn’t know. No one told you.”