Her Tempting Protector: Navy SEAL Team (Night Storm Book 2)

by Caitlyn O'Leary

  Admit it, you’re enticed.

  She looked back down at Shada.

  “Are you with me?” she asked. “Shada?”

  She looked around and saw that once again Cullen was changing Adam’s diaper on the tailgate of the truck, so she took the time to examine her patient’s incision.

  She sucked in a deep breath as she pulled away the bloody bandage.

  “Ahhhhhh,” Shada wailed.

  “I know, little Mama,” Carys said soothingly in Arabic. “I need to examine you. You have been so brave. You are such a good mother to your children.”

  “It hurts, Doctor,” Shada moaned through gritted teeth. “Am I going to die?”

  “Absolutely not. You are going to be alive to see your son’s children.”

  Carys looked at the woman’s inflamed incision. The only good thing was that her abdomen wasn’t swollen. She dug into the makeshift medical kit and pulled out the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope. When she took her vitals, it confirmed what she’d been thinking, the woman was in bad shape. Bad. Shape. Along with the morphine, she’d been administering strong antibiotics, but in this crap environment, of course the surgical sight was infected, heck, for all she knew it could be chorioamnionitis, but without a lab to test, she was totally in the dark.

  “Doctor,” Shada grabbed her hand, her grip surprisingly tight. “If I die you must get my children to my mother’s uncle. I wrote down his name and gave it to Leila. She will be able to explain to him who I was. I am begging you, will you give me your word that you will take them to Egypt? Their father is evil. Please promise me.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Carys said fiercely.

  “It is in Allah’s hands. Please promise me.” Tears began to track down her anguished face.

  Carys didn’t know if this uncle even existed, so she couldn’t in good conscience say that she could get the kids to him. So she promised what she could.

  “I will protect your children, Shada.”

  “You are a good woman.”

  “Not so good, because I am about to make you take a walk.” Carys smiled gently.

  “I get to relieve myself?” Shada said hopefully.

  “Yes, but this will be painful. It would be easier if we could have Mr. Lyons assist you, just to get in and out of the truck, that is all.”

  Shada bit her lip, her discomfort was clear. “Is he a married man?” she asked.

  Carys abhorred lying, but she considered it so that Shada would feel more comfortable, but she couldn’t do it. “No, he is a bachelor, but he is an honorable man. He is a leader and he has been very good with your son.”

  Shada started to shake her head, but before she could say anything, Carys interrupted her. “Right now, he is once again changing your son’s diaper, and he will probably start singing to him again so he will go to sleep.”

  “He has sung to my son?”

  “Yes,” Carys nodded.

  “Okay, I will allow him to help me.”

  Carys smiled. “I will see if he is done cleaning up Adam.” She left the backseat and went around to the truck bed where Cullen was holding Adam on his shoulder.

  “I’ll put him down in his nest in the front,” Cullen said.

  “So, you heard?”

  He nodded. “How painful is this going to be? As bad as when you’re pressing down on her abdomen?”

  “About the same. I’m worried about her. She’s clammy and her blood pressure is low. The good news is that she is alert.”

  “She has you as a doctor, it’ll be fine.”

  How could he say that with so much confidence?

  Cullen got Adam settled, and Carys made sure that Shada was modestly covered, and that her sandals were on. She groaned as Carys got her sitting in an upright position. Cullen came up behind her.

  “Can I be of help? Perhaps I can lift you out of your seat?” he suggested.

  Shada tried to push up first, instead of taking his suggestion, and let out a muffled shriek. She sank back down on the mattress. “Yes please, I need some assistance.”

  Cullen carefully lifted her out of the backseat. “Where do you want me to take her?” he asked Carys. “Over to those trees?”

  “No, we are going to have Shada walk between us, she can hold onto our shoulders. You can do that, can’t you Honey?” she asked the woman.

  She nodded. Cullen looked horrified.

  “I can carry her.”

  “She needs to walk. It’s good for her circulation. This is important.”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Lyons,” Shada assured him in a hoarse voice. He set her down, ready to catch her if she crumpled. He held onto her right arm, and Shada wrapped her arm around Carys’ shoulders for support. Slowly, very slowly, they made their way to the trees.

  “I will go back and see how Adam is doing. You call me when you need me,” Cullen said when they finally had Shada leaning against a tree.

  “Thank you, Mr. Lyons,” she gasped.

  “You are welcome, ma’am.”

  Carys assisted Shada to urinate and was really worried when there was very little output. With all the saline she’d administered, there should have been more output.

  Dammit, was Shada bleeding internally?

  Carys took a moment to take care of her own personal needs, then she shouted out for Cullen to come help Shada back to the truck.

  Cullen was gritting his teeth as he witnessed Shada’s silent pain during she walked back. He helped her to settle into the backseat, then went to administer to Adam who was crying as well.

  Carys rebandaged Shada and repacked her kits. Then she backed out of the backseat and followed the sounds of Cullen’s singing and Adam crying.

  “Your friend Kane, does he know if there is a hospital in Wad Gala?”

  Cullen was shaking his head before she even finished her question. “That’s out, Carys, I’m so sorry. But we have to wait until we get to Khartoum.”

  “We don’t have the time to wait. Her blood pressure is dropping. I’ve run out of saline. I need to get her help.”

  “If we’re spotted, we’re done for. We can’t risk it.”

  “That’s not an acceptable answer. We’re close to a town, they must have a clinic. I’m in a damned hijab, I’ll walk in and buy some saline.”

  “Yeah, with your green eyes and white skin, that’s going to work,” Cullen’s eyes flashed at her.

  “Not everybody is black in Africa.”

  “I realize that, Dr. Adams. I also realize that we have killers who are on the lookout for us, you in particular. You have to remember that a bunch of these people are scared and in the pocket of the RSF. They will put the drop on you. You are not going to be wandering around Wad Gala. Got it?”

  The deadlier his voice got, the louder Adam cried. The baby could feel the tension in the air.

  “Give me the baby.” Carys held out her arms.

  “At least if you’re holding Adam, I know you’re not going off half-cocked.” He gently placed the newborn into her arms, stroking his finger along his cheek.

  “Let’s get something straight right now, Chief Petty Officer, I would never just leave. I already told you I trust you implicitly with our safety. I will always defer to you, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to argue with you. But me countermanding your directive is just plain stupid.”

  He looked at her with a stunned expression on his face. “Did you just say that?”

  “Huh?”

  “You are a Goddess.”

  She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “You are straight up logical. I’m totally taking you home with me when we get out of this mess.”

  “Cullen Lyons, you are really getting on my last nerve, and we don’t have time for this. What are you talking about?”

  “My sisters would never be this logical, they would always insist that their way was right, and be thinking of a way to go around me, over me, or under me.”

  “Well, they need to grow up,”
she said succinctly. “Now figure out a way for me to get saline, and us to get to Khartoum.”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely. Your wish is my command.”

  How could she possibly feel like smiling at a time like this, she wondered as she stared into the bluest eyes known to mankind.

  11

  Thank God the red soccer jersey covered the tight tan pants he was wearing, otherwise it would look like he was advertising his junk. As it was, it was hard to walk in the damn things. So much for easy maneuverability, but it was more important to blend in with the crowd. Cullen meandered through the packed streets of Wad Gala. He was getting stares, besides the fact that he was wearing clothing that was like others in the village.

  He ducked down one of the many little side alleys. First things first, he needed to find some saline for Shada, hot foot it back to the truck, and then he could get some fuel from the petrol station he’d seen.

  Where the hell was a clinic?

  Carys had told him what to look for. Mainly, it would be a line of women holding kids. And just how the hell was he going to talk his way to the front of the line and, talk someone out of at least two bags of saline?

  First things first, find the clinic.

  He had to squeeze his way out of the end of the alley and avoid stepping in a little stream of sewage. But, after Bubba and his green poop, it wasn’t so bad. Cullen looked right, left and forward as he moved out into the bright sun, everything looked normal. So, he was still caught off-guard by the three-and-a-half-foot high child who slapped his leg.

  “Mister. I get you anything you want. You pay me.”

  “How old are you?” Cullen frowned down at the kid, then looked around and saw people milling about. Nobody seemed to think anything was odd about him being accosted by this young entrepreneur.

  “I’m six. You lost. I help. Need money up front.”

  Cullen grinned. He liked this kid.

  “How many piasters?”

  “I want American dollars.” The kid held out his hand as his lower lip jutted out and his eyebrows lowered. Cullen bit his lip as he looked over the little man. He was going to be quite the little enforcer when he grew up.

  “One Sudanese pound,” Cullen offered. “If I like your help when we’re done, two American dollars. But you’ve got to come through for me.”

  Suddenly the kid was all smiles. “I can help.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Mohammed.” He held out his hand again and Cullen went to shake it. “No, I want my money.”

  Cullen laughed. “Of course, you do.”

  Once again, he had some crumpled up bills hidden in his pockets, but this time it took some doing to dig them out of the tight pants. The kid watched the spectacle with interest. Cullen finally handed him his money.

  “What you want? Beer?”

  Cullen was impressed. Beer was pretty hard to come by, and a six-year-old knew how to procure it?

  “No beer, I need to find the clinic.”

  “You sex sick?”

  “No.” The kid was unbelievable. “I don’t have a sexual disease. But I do need some medicine. Now where’s the clinic?”

  “Follow me.” The kid started running. When Cullen just watched him, he stopped and turned around. “You slow. I want my money. Come quick.”

  Cullen kept up despite his laughter. Wait until he told the guys about Mohammed.

  He kept following the kid to the outskirts of town. Why hadn’t he realized that? Of course, the clinic wouldn’t be as accepted so it would be farther out, at least in one of the smaller towns like this one. And Carys had called it—there was a line of women and some old men coming out of the clinic. But that didn’t stop Mohammed from ducking past everyone, despite their protests.

  “Come, come, you must hurry,” he said as he motioned for Cullen to follow him inside.

  There were many women and children standing and sitting inside. Some of them looked very ill. “Come, come,” again the child motioned for him. Cullen shook his head. He’d had enough of pushing his way to the front of the line.

  The boy rolled his eyes. He darted back behind a desk to a hallway, perfectly comfortable in the little clinic. Soon he came out with a woman who was holding his hand.

  “My nephew informs me that you have a life and death emergency, is this true? Or is he once again exaggerating so that he can make some money?” She seemed to know the boy well, but there were equal parts indulgence and impatience in her voice.

  “I never told him that, ma’am,” Cullen said deferentially in Arabic.

  “Then what is the problem?” she demanded. “I don’t have all day.”

  At least he wasn’t totally caught wrong-footed, Carys had given him a bit of a cover story in case he needed one. “I have a patient. He had surgery and now he needs saline.”

  “What are you talking about?” She looked him up and down. “You’re no kind of doctor,” she said derisively.

  She was tough. “No, ma’am. I’m a driver. I’m driving a private car from Wad Madani to Khartoum for a rich old man who just had surgery on his liver. There is a nurse with him.”

  “Well, where is he? Let me see him.”

  “Auntie give him what he needs. He will pay.”

  She folded her arms over her large bosom and gave Cullen a hard stare. “I need to see your patient. I want to make sure he is doing well.”

  A smile wouldn’t work in this case. “Nurse Adams knew you would feel that way,” he said. “She said to tell you that his fever has spiked, and I need to move fast.”

  “Where are they?” The woman demanded again.

  “They are outside of town. We ran out of fuel. Nurse Adams said saline was most important, then I will get fuel and take us to Khartoum.”

  Mohammed grabbed his aunt’s hand. “We must hurry,” he pleaded. “We cannot let someone suffer.”

  The kid was good, he tugged harder at her hand. “Please, we must help him.”

  She looked at Cullen then back down at her nephew. “I will get it for you. It will cost you two hundred and fifty pounds a bag.” He was getting off cheap. Ten dollars.

  As soon as his aunt was out of sight, he looked up at Cullen, all business. Mohammed held out his hand. “That will be twenty American dollars.”

  “What are you talking about? She said ten.”

  “Finder’s fee.”

  The little grifter. Cullen dug into his tight pants and pulled out his crumpled bills and handed them to the kid.

  “I can help you get fuel too,” the boy gave a toothy grin.

  “I’m sure you can.”

  12

  Cullen had left her with a flashlight, and if she opened one of the car doors, she’d have light, but the man had left her too scared to call attention to the vehicle in the dark. Luckily, Adam was sound asleep, so he wasn’t making any noise in the black night either.

  She’d left him sleeping in the truck. She’d made up quite the little baby bed in the floorboard of the passenger seat. He was tucked in like the proverbial bug in a rug. This left her in the truck bed with the gun ready to take on anybody. She just hoped whoever came by was nothing more than a goatherder and she wouldn’t need to use a weapon.

  For the twenty-seventh time, she yawned.

  Cut it out. You had sleep. You’re the last person allowed to be tired on this little venture. The baby, the sick woman and the soldier who hasn’t slept in three days all get to be tired. Your butt has to be awake and alert.

  No beddy-bye-time for you.

  She yawned again. Tears pricked the back of her eyelids, she was so mad at herself. She should be better than this. So much better. Her breath shuddered. How many times had she said that to herself?

  “Cut it out, Adams,” she whispered fiercely. “You don’t have time for this horsepucky.”

  But seriously, how many people in her life could she possibly disappoint? How many?

  She rolled her eyes to the heavens.

  She had to be ti
red if she was replaying those old tapes. For God’s sake, she was a doctor, she was being considered for chief surgeon at a good-sized hospital! She was not a failure!

  Once again, she felt her palms sweating as she held the darn gun, and this time it was cold out.

  Please, Cullen, come back.

  Please be okay.

  Please don’t be hurt.

  God, she couldn’t stand it if anything happened to that man. He was so damned special. He might scare the spit out of her, but he made her want. He made her want so many things.

  She took a deep calming breath.

  Another.

  In and out. Slowly. Deeply. She would get through this. She would protect Shada and Adam, that was what she did. She took another deep breath.

  Then on the fifth deep breath, she thought she heard a faint sound drifting toward her on the dark African night. Was that singing? She held her breath, trying to make out the sound. No, it wasn’t singing, it was humming. She listened more intently. Finally, she could make it out.

  It was that song, the one that Cullen had sung.

  Summertime.

  Her joints loosened and her bones melted as she took comfort in the melody that flowed over her. Cullen was coming. He was telling her that everything was all right.

  Trembling, Carys crawled out of the bed of the truck.

  She slumped against the cold steel and waited, even though every instinct said to run to him. Still, her job was to stay with the little family and protect them.

  Darn it, she’d left the pistol in the bed of the truck. She climbed back onto the bumper and reached over the tailgate.

  The wolf whistle took her by surprise. When she almost lost her footing, strong male hands captured her and pulled her back against a hard chest.

  “Nice booty, Doctor.”

  “Shhh, you’ll wake up Africa,” she admonished as she blushed with pleasure. She’d never once been whistled at in her entire life.

  “I was quiet,” he whispered into her ear. The warm heat of his breath sent tingles all through her body. She was no longer feeling sorry for herself, that was for darn sure. This man, he had her all tangled up. And she really, really, really truly liked it. She shook her head so that she could get herself together.