Secret Soldier

by Dana Marton

  She reached for a dried fig, a slow ache building in her heart. “Nothing.”

  Except that she was in the back of a rusty old truck in the middle of the desert, pursued by crazed terrorists, and she finally had found the man she could actually imagine saying, “Honey, I’m home,” to her on a regular basis. And of course, he wasn’t available. When this adventure was over—if they survived it—he would disappear and she would never see him again. She didn’t even know his real name.

  She looked up and found his gaze on her.

  “You look beautiful in the moonlight.”

  Her breath caught, but then she gathered herself.

  “You know you’ve been too long without a woman when you start thinking of me as beautiful.”

  She was not ugly, but no one would mistake her for a cover model. She didn’t have swollen pouty lips and high cheekbones. Nor could she manage anything that remotely resembled a smoldering gaze.

  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “There are all kinds of beauty.”

  “Stop depressing me. The surest sign that you’re unattractive is when other people tell you that there are all kinds of beauty.”

  “Stop talking yourself down.”

  He was right. She shrugged. “When a major relationship goes under, it has a way of shaking one’s self-confidence.”

  “What happened?”

  “He betrayed me.” Let Spike make of that what he wanted. She certainly wasn’t going to detail how she’d gotten a call from some doctor’s office asking for Anthony, wanting to follow up on some procedure. When she questioned the nurse, the woman wouldn’t tell her more than that. God, she had been frantic with worry. She’d thought he was sick, wanting to spare her by keeping it a secret. And when she couldn’t take it any longer and told him about the call, he finally admitted he had a vasectomy—knowing how much she wanted children. He didn’t, he’d told her when it was too late for discussion. Apparently, he hadn’t wanted to argue about it, so he’d gone and taken care of it behind her back.

  Such manipulation and dishonesty she could not forgive. “He lied to me,” she said.

  “Someday he’s going to regret it.”

  “He already does.” According to her mother.

  They ate in silence for a while. She put away the left over food when they were done.

  “Are you going back to him when your project is finished?”

  She busied herself with their packs, wishing he’d drop the subject. “No.”

  Her relationship with Anthony seemed as if it had been a thousand years ago. The childish crush she’d had on him in the beginning had long faded; she’d been just too busy performing to expectations to notice it. She had almost married him because everybody had always expected that she would. And because she’d felt she had to make up for the fact that her sister, Kate, couldn’t marry and have a family. Not because she had been truly in love. The message from the doctor’s office had been a last-minute wakeup call.

  “No. I’m no longer mad at him, but it’s over. I’m not going back.”

  “Good,” he said right behind her. “Then I won’t have to feel guilty about kissing you.”

  His lips touched her cheek as his arms wound around her and he slowly turned her in his arms. Then his mouth found hers.

  His gentle caresses alone were enough to drive her mad. Never would she have thought a simple kiss could be so powerful, could take hold of her so completely. He tasted like the mint tea she’d brewed earlier in the sun. His arms around her felt familiar, right, safe.

  He sank to the carpet and pulled her with him. She went willingly, lost in the magic that swirled thick around them every time they touched. Her breasts ached for him as he caressed them through her clothes. Impatient, she drew the abayah over her head. And still, he wasn’t close enough. She reached for the hem of her dress.

  He put his hands over hers and stilled them. “Are you sure?” His face was inches from hers, his gaze intent, his self-control visibly strained.

  Wasn’t he? She pulled back feeling rebuked and looked away.

  He cupped her cheek to make her look at him. “I want you. All of you or as much as you’re willing to give. I just want to make sure that you understand that this is it. This is all it can ever be.”

  She understood well what he was saying. Once they were out of the desert, he’d be gone. There’d be no picket fences. She slipped her dress over her head, sitting there half-naked in the moonlight, her one and only bra left in the Harebs’ guest room.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he said even as he reached for her, his voice low and raspy. “You’re driving me crazy.”

  “I want to,” she whispered, floating away on the waves of sensation sent across her skin by his touch.

  “Drive me crazy?” he murmured to the spot of skin between her breasts.

  “I want to do this with you,” she said as she buried her fingers in his hair.

  With a low, rumbling sound of desire, he rolled with her until she was pinned under him, his lips a hairbreadth from hers.

  “I’m going to make love to you, Dr. DiMatteo.”

  She sneaked her hands under his robe, and her fingers glided over his well-muscled chest. His body, his strength awed her. He was without a doubt the most attractive man she’d ever seen. And there was so much more to him than that.

  She gasped as he pressed the unmistakable proof of his desire against her, then gasped again as his lips found her nipples. While his mouth was busy driving her mad with need, his hands freed her from her pants and underwear. Then he pulled away to look his fill.

  “You are beautiful,” he whispered and lifted his gaze to hers. “Do you doubt me?” He reached for her hand and laid it on top of his hardness.

  Her fingers curled around him instinctually, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them again and lowered his mouth to hers.

  “Still, beauty I could resist,” he whispered against her lips. “But you’re brave, too.” He nibbled her lower lip. “And compassionate.” He moved on to the corner of her mouth. “And intelligent.” He licked the seam of her lips. “And strong.”

  She opened her mouth in response, and he claimed her fully. Her head swam from his words as much as from his touch, her thoughts jumbled. But then again, who needed to think when his hand was drawing lazy circles on her abdomen, spiraling down? Then he was there and cupped her mound, the heat of his palm sending delicious shivers through her.

  She moaned into his mouth and felt him grin.

  A seeking finger buried itself in her hair, then another parted her feverish flesh. Brooks bubbled, birds sang, somebody was playing a harp in the background, or maybe it was a violin. A whole orchestra of violins.

  He moved a fingertip back and forth slowly over the spot that ached for him most, his palm massaging her. Then another finger found its way to her opening and pushed inside, stroking, pressing in and out.

  She looked up at the starlit sky as his lips moved from one nipple to another and back again, her hands gripping his shoulders to stop from falling into the abyss that stood before her. And then she stumbled, in bursts and constricting muscles and pulsating palpitations.

  He rolled her on top of him and held her tightly.

  An eternity passed before she could talk. “What about you?”

  “I have a breathtaking naked woman in my arms. I’m happy.”

  He was hard under her. And despite his assurances, she couldn’t help investigate whether she could make him happier yet. She rubbed against him.

  “Vixen.” He grinned and captured her lips.

  But she wouldn’t let him keep her captive long. She trailed kisses down his chest, making a detour for his flat nipples, reveling in his low groan of desire. She moved to his belly button then lower, pulling his pants and underwear down little by little as she kissed each newly revealed inch in turn.

  Impatient, he kicked his clothes off, and t
hen he was naked in all his glory. If braying camels fell from the sky, they could not have made her look away.

  “I want to feel you inside me so much it hurts.”

  He hauled her up. “You’re killing me.” He kissed her soundly and flipped her over, rubbing his hardness along the cleft of her buttocks. She squirmed, drowning in mindless passion as he slipped a hand under her and found her again.

  She was ready, on the edge. She turned to face him and reached for him, ran her fingers along his length. His eyelids lowered. She closed her hands around him and moved them. He lowered his head for a kiss and moved against her.

  “You’re making my knees shake.” He laughed and fell on the carpet beside her, turned on his side and pulled her to him face-to-face. He claimed her lips one last time, then pulled away.

  She could see in his eyes what it cost him. He was holding back for her sake. Didn’t he know how much she needed him? They’ve been staring death in the face for so long now, and it wasn’t over yet. If they didn’t make it out of the desert… She wanted to make love with the man she—she didn’t dare finish the thought.

  Instead, she went to him, with him when he turned on his back, and she ended up lying on top. Her knees bent on their own, bringing her up. Her gaze not leaving his face, she straddled him, gaining satisfaction from the way his eyes darkened.

  He swallowed hard.

  “Unless you don’t want to…” She held her breath.

  “More than life itself,” he said.

  She lifted and sheathed his hardness, her head falling back, her spine arching, as mind-numbing pleasure seared through her body.

  His thumb found her. She moved. Nothing had ever felt this good.

  She was blowing in a windstorm of passion like a grain of sand. The storm grew and grew, inside her, around her, threatening to rip her apart. But when it crested, it left behind not destruction, but endless pleasure. They clung to each other in the night.

  “Wow,” she said when she could finally speak.

  “Ditto.” Spike’s voice sounded raspy. “Mint tea. Who would have thought?” He hugged her tighter.

  “Or some strange desert atmospheric conditions.”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’ve been sexed mindless.”

  “Me, too.”

  She smiled against his cheek, too tired to open her eyes. “I’ve never seen stars look as beautiful as they do in the desert,” he said after a while.

  She rolled on her back and looked up. Magnificent. Then again, it was possible that she was just a little bit biased. After all, she’d just had the best sex of her life.

  SHE AWOKE ALONE, but saw him in the cab of the truck as soon as she turned her head. He was playing with the radio.

  She was still naked. Memories of the night rushed her and took her breath away all over again. Never had she been more thoroughly made love to. It had been certainly different than anything she’d shared with Anthony-his quick, perfunctory caresses and hurried couplings. She’d used to leave her underwear on one leg so she wouldn’t have to go looking for it afterward. She glanced around, but couldn’t see her undies anywhere. Her lips stretched into a smile of pure satisfaction.

  Spike had made her feel like a woman. More than that, he’d made her feel sexy, passionate, desirable. And beyond the physical-the thought scared her for a moment. But yes, there were things that went beyond the physical between them, even if only on her part. He was going to break her heart when he left.

  She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair. She would have given anything for a comb and toothbrush. She pulled on her clothes and took a swig from the flask of mint tea, rinsing the taste of sleep from her mouth. Time to pack up. She dressed, found her panties after all, then stood to roll up their blankets, the carpet and the tent.

  She turned at the sound of the truck door opening. Spike came up over the side.

  “Good morning.” He drew her to him and thoroughly kissed her. “You ready?” He didn’t pull back far.

  Oh yeah. Definitely ready. Too bad he meant ready to hit the road. She nodded.

  “About last night…”

  God, here came the part when he said he was sorry they got carried away.

  “It was the best night of my life,” he said, and she felt her face split into a giant grin. “But we didn’t use anything.”

  She touched a finger to her left arm. “I have an implant.” She needed it to regulate her cycle.

  He nodded. “I don’t want you to worry. Where I work… We get tested regularly for everything.”

  She thought about the AIDS test she had to take before she could be approved to work with the children. But as she opened her mouth to reassure him, she heard the trucks. A bunch of them this time.

  “Let’s go.” Spike jumped over the side then helped her to the sand.

  They were in the cab within seconds, the motor coughing to life. Spike slammed his foot on the gas.

  “Do you think they found those two…”

  Her question died unspoken as she heard the first gunshots flying over the sand. They reached the top of the next big sand dune, and there lay the city before them with its skyscrapers and minarets, shopping centers and mosques. And police. The army even, most likely. Even now that the war had been long over, they were still stationed in major cities to keep the peace.

  Just a couple of miles now. They were saved. In the crowds of the city, they were sure to lose the men who hunted them. Abigail took turns looking forward and back, judging the distance to safety, the distance between themselves and the angry men behind them.

  Ahead stretched tracks in the sand that turned into a gravel road after a mile, then into a paved street flanked by shanties as it snaked toward the city. Soon they reached the outskirts, their pursuers still behind them, although their guns had disappeared from sight.

  Spike wove in and out of traffic, narrowly avoiding a donkey cart, braking hard for running children, as he merged in with the jumble of vehicles on the road. The terrorists were about ten cars behind them, still coming.

  The farther they got into the city, the more clogged traffic became. A few of El Jafar’s men hopped off the trucks and blended into the crowd of people on the sidewalks, moving forward.

  “We’re stuck.” She scanned the road as far ahead as she could see. The cars rolled forth with lazy ignorance of the desperate situation behind them.

  “See that alley?” Spike pointed to a narrow passageway between two restaurants on her side of the road. “When I stop the car, run for it as fast as you can. I’ll be right behind you.”

  She barely had time to think before the motor died. She pushed the door open and jumped to the ground. Horns beeped behind them. She didn’t look back as she made her way to the sidewalk across three lanes of traffic and plunged into the mass of people, where she disappeared among the women, all dressed the same.

  Her heart raced, but she reached the alleyway and stepped into its darkness.

  “Run,” Spike said next to her ear, startling her.

  He didn’t have his rifle, too long to be concealed. Although coming and going fully armed was common in the country, it would have drawn instant attention in Tihrin.

  The alleyway ended in a smaller side street. Spike took the lead, crossing through a store, hurrying up another street, ducking into another alley, all the while moving rapidly farther into the city, until they reached a square of shops.

  “Stay here.” He stepped into the square, leaving her in the shadow of a palm tree.

  He went into one of the stores, came out, went into another and another. Then he was back.

  “Let’s go.” He led the way to a restaurant straight ahead.

  He asked to be seated on the upper floor and then chose a table near the door that led to the roof.

  “Do you think we lost them?”

  “We’ll see.” He kept an eye on the square. “I called for b
ackup.”

  “From one of the stores?”

  “I told them I’d been robbed and needed to place a call to the hotel to send us a car. The first two shopkeepers were suspicious and wouldn’t let me in the back office to use the phone, but I lucked out with the third.”

  A waiter brought them cold drinks then walked minute. She scanned the street from the window. A lot of people went about their business, none of them acting as if they were looking for someone. She glanced at Spike, who was paging through the menu as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “So when is the backup coming?”

  “Soon. There’s a U.S. Air Force base just on the other side of the border, about thirty miles from here.”

  The waiter came back to take their orders.

  “We’ve been robbed and have no money with us,” Spike told him. “Would it be possible to send a bill to our hotel? We’re staying at the Hilton”

  “One moment, sir.” The man walked away.

  He was back within minutes with the manager who apologized for the lack of public safety on the streets of his beloved city, expressed hope that the visitors were not terribly inconvenienced and assured them that their meal would be entirely on the house.

  “Are you okay?” Spike asked after they’d placed their order and were finally alone again.

  “A little shaken, but none the worse for the wear. You?”

  “Been a hell of a lot worse, that’s for sure.”

  She nodded. He did seem to move easier. Sara’s ointments worked wonders. Or maybe their bodies understood this was no time to fail, or even to slow down.

  He held her gaze, his face serious. “About us. When this is over—”

  She held up her hand to stop him. She didn’t want false promises. When this was over, they were over. There was no future for them together. She’d known it all along. She’d go back to Tukatar and he would disappear. No need to complicate things now. Which was why she made a point of not asking his real name. She had a feeling that when they parted, she would be asked to forget they had ever met.

  She could never do that, would never forget him. But she was a bigger person than to lay on the guilt, to make him feel like he owed her something because of the amazing night they had spent together. She had gone into this with her eyes wide-open. She was a big girl. She could handle it. Her heart wouldn’t be the first in history to be broken.