by Zoe Dawson
His words touched something inside her that no one had ever touched and made her feel so much closer and intimately attached to him. She was carrying out Brad’s wishes, but after she vacated his seat, she had no idea what she really wanted to pursue. She’d been supporting Brad for so long, she’d lost any sight of her own goals. Dex really gave her something to think about. She forced him to finish the broth, even though he grumbled. She could tell he was getting fatigued and the pain was creeping back. She gave him his meds and then came the part she had blushed red at—the antibiotic shot.
“Why are you looking like you have a job to do and it’s not going to be your favorite?” he asked, his sleepy blue eyes roving over her face.
“I need to give you a shot of antibiotics.”
“O-kay…”
“In the biggest muscle on your body.”
“Oh, right.” He smirked. “Trouble with the location, Senator?”
“I’d say the second-biggest muscle since your brain is obviously the largest.”
He chuckled. “I’m buck-ass naked, lady, so have at it.”
He was clearly laughing at her discomfort. Okay, maybe not out loud, but his laugh lines were all crinkled, and there was a wicked, wicked sparkle in his eyes.
She cast him an annoyed and embarrassed look. “It’s not funny, Dex.”
The glint intensified. “Oh, butt it is.”
She made an exasperated sound. “Need I remind you that I’m the one with the sharp instrument and I’ve never stuck a needle in anyone before?” It didn’t help that Piper was so aware of Dex; it was as if her body had a million little sensors in it.
He rolled gingerly to his side and she reached out a trembling hand and moved the cotton covering just enough to expose the top of one of his cheeks. The man was a study in thick, ropey muscle as the big muscles of his back tapered down into the smooth definition of his rump. My God, he was so beautiful.
He looked at her over his shoulder. She met his gaze and her heart rolled over, a strange, fluttery feeling unfolding in her middle. His expression was wry and wickedly teasing. “Piper, are you going to stick me, or are you just staring at my ass?”
Oh, God. She had been staring at his fine butt. He pulled the blanket, revealing the full view of his posterior, and her mouth went dry. That knocked her out of her reverie and she stuck in the needle and pushed the plunger.
“Ouch!” he said, and reached down to rub the area, narrowing his eyes.
She raised her chin. “Serves you right for needling me.” She reached out and flicked up the blanket to cover all that gorgeous muscle.
Then she bit her lip. “Did I really hurt you?”
He laughed softly, “No. A gnat could have done more damage. But you can kiss it and make it all better if you want,” he breathed.
She sucked in a breath at the thought of putting her lips anywhere on his body.
He carefully transitioned to his back, his eyelids drooping, the medication she’d given him kicking in. But he met her singed look with something direct and heavy enough to set off so many alarms in her, all amusement gone. He watched her with an intent, steady look, as if he were thinking something wholly sinful and definitely wild. His voice was quiet and low when he spoke. “You look tired. You should sleep.” His eyes closed and he took a deep breath and opened them. “Beside me, Senator. That’s an order. Stick close to me.”
Piper could handle that kind of concern. Barely. But she could handle it. Then Dex blew it. As if not even realizing he was doing it, he reached out and ever so carefully tucked her hair behind her ear. Then he ran the backs of his fingers along her jaw. “Close, Piper,” he said, his voice husky. “Real close.”
It was too much. Piper’s knees went immediately weak, and her breath jammed up in her chest. It was all she could do to keep from folding into his arms. And all those feelings she’d tried to hold at bay came rushing through her, sending a fountain of need surging up. As if trapped by his gaze, she stared back at him, unable to break away—not really wanting to. She was so lost in his eyes, in the pulse-racing weakness…
He tried to keep his eyes on hers, but the medication proved too strong and he was battling pain and fever. His blinking got longer and longer until those lids stayed closed and his breaths became even.
With her lungs seizing up and her heart pounding, she watched him sleep, things happening inside her that made her heart pound even harder.
“You haven’t even touched your meal,” Afsana said, coming into the room and picking up Dex’s bowl. “You must eat, Piper, to keep up your strength.”
“I will,” she promised. “How do you know Dex?”
Afsana’s dark eyes filled with affection. She glanced at Dex and crouched down. “My husband wanted a better life for us. Better than the Taliban could give. He didn’t like the way I was treated or the pressure they put on me. So, he has been working with the Americans since they came here. Dex was wounded in a battle not far from here, before Bagram was reclaimed and built into that big base it is now. We found him and your brother and helped them. Nursed them back to health and smuggled them to safety. When my husband was accused of being part of the Taliban, a case of mistaken identity, I was so worried and scared. I went to Dex and he got my husband released and back to me. We would do anything for him.” She reached out and snagged the plate, setting it into Piper’s hands, then she squeezed her arm. “During war, where brutality reigns and justice seems lost, sometimes bonds are forged in turmoil and blood and are some of the strongest ones there are. Because of the unselfish acts of a people you don’t understand and are so foreign to you, you have a hard time trusting them. Dex proved he was here to help us. He is a man of his word, so very, very brave, and always does the right thing. No matter the cost. That’s how I know him. Now eat.”
Piper picked up her fork as Afsana left the room. From the moment she’d met Dex, she saw something in him that was clearly unbreakable, wild and massively appealing. It was no surprise he’d stepped in for Afsana and Raffi, and she melted inside at his compassion and the way he was always true to himself. Unable to help it, she moved closer to Dex, the chaos inside getting worse. As she took the first bite, she thought this situation was crazy. So insane. She wanted him to touch her all over. She wanted to lie in his arms like she had the right to do so and she wanted to hang on to him and never, ever let go.
Chastising herself for thinking that way, she finished her meal. She lay down next to him, trying to disconnect from the unsatisfied ache lying thick and heavy in her. But she couldn’t disconnect, no matter how hard she tried. Feeling shaky and out of control, she moved closer until she could feel his skin inches from her. It was clear that Dex was the kind of man she would seek out. Strong, true, honest and dedicated, but he was also someone who put his life on the line every day he went to work. That was…just too much, hit too close to her fears. There was no future in thinking about him as long term, and the short term was so full of danger. She might not even get out of this alive.
He was so warm, safe and solid. Easing in a deep, uneven breath as his presence physically enveloped her, she planned on taking care of him through the night. Whatever he needed.
Her eyes fixed on his handsome face. The beard stubble added to his dangerous appeal. Her tears flowed, unloaded from all the fear, shock and experiences she’d endured in the past twenty-four hours; some of those tears she cried were because she was afraid she was incapable of letting go and finding something new, of taking a chance.
She recognized that he could be the man that made her whole again, if she had the courage to let go. But fear was a powerful barrier, and that settled inside her like a beast she had to fight.
He shredded her, too, with the way he looked at her and his character and his beauty.
He was wrong. She didn’t have that kind of courage or fortitude. She’d already been shattered into pieces that she was still picking up.
She wasn’t unbreakable.
Chapter S
even
Splintered silvery pieces of awareness and a heavy warmth pressed to him filtered through Dex’s consciousness. Pain radiated just enough to be felt. The meds must be wearing off. He was reaching for his weapon even before he was fully awake, but all he could feel was soft, warm skin. Nice, he thought, sighing, then drifted a bit until perceptions of reality broke into his languid mind: the jumble of bedding beneath him, the smooth texture of the cotton against his bare skin, the light that spilled into the room from between the shutters.
He took stock of his situation as the edge of pain pulsated a little harder. The whole side of his body was raw and sore, and from the feel of it, padded with thick bandages. One of the wounds from the shrapnel of the mortar had cut deep, but the others were shallower. It was that deep gash that was causing most of the throbbing pain.
Then his hand ran over his hip. What the hell? He was buck-ass naked, the cotton blanket pushed all the way down to his groin. Who had stripped him? He just couldn’t remember anything except the hallucinated bodies pulling him under. Then bits and pieces…warm lips. Responsive warm lips. Had he kissed her? Ah, you freaking moron. Had he or had that been part of a great, fever-induced dream?
Wait a second. More memories flooded his brain. Had she really been here and stuck him with a needle…needled. Oh, damn, Piper had given him a shot in his butt, and he’d said something wholly inappropriate, or had he dreamed all of this?
Nope, the memories came back to him, and he didn’t think he had.
Damn, that had freakin’ hurt, and even trying not to react, the low groan was something he couldn’t stop. He’d been out of it for most of the day. How had Blessing gotten here? He tried to search his memory banks, but nothing registered.
He remembered, groaning again when Blessing had stuck him with a needle and soft hands had cradled his head. He’d moved his legs restlessly. It had stung like hell, but then blessed relief. Must have been the pain meds he’d taken and then the numbing from the anesthetic she’d no doubt injected him with as a lethargy had mercifully spread over him and his mind swam.
Something had happened to him, but that was blurry, too.
“Will he be okay?” Piper’s soft, husky voice had asked, filled with concern and worry. He liked that she cared about him. But then, why wouldn’t she? He’d saved her life. Tyler’s sister. Right, Ty. He hoped he was doing okay. Her hand had smoothed across his forehead again and threaded through his hair. He couldn’t think straight. He was floating, the pain now dull, and he was so damn tired.
His eyes popped open then and he completely lost his train of thought as he realized Piper was there, her face close, her nose almost touching him. She was the weight he’d felt when he woke up, and sweet Jesus, she was snuggled up to his uninjured side, her fragrant body draped over his chest and her cotton-clad leg running the length of his. Her arm resting on his pecs, elbow bent, she had her hand on his face as if she’d fallen asleep checking for fever.
Wow, how long had it been since he’d woken up to a woman he’d known for more than a half an hour? One who obviously cared? Seemed like a long time, maybe a year. Between his deployments and his reluctance to do the bar scene now, female companionship had mostly consisted of his mom and acquaintances, both personal and job-related.
But nothing had changed about his reaction to waking up. Morning wood was typical. Even wounded, he knew what he wanted. With her so close to him, stimulating him, it jumped and he wanted to groan at the throbbing ache that started at the base and moved up.
His body hungered and stirred up a sexual restlessness in him. He closed his eyes, wanting her. Wanting to drag her across his body, have her straddle his hips as he slipped inside all that slick heat.
The pleasant feelings were suddenly dominated by a feeling of enormous responsibility. He wasn’t going to let anything detract from getting her to safety, not even his dumb-ass urges.
And there was his brother Rock’s voice in his head. You don’t do a brother’s sister or think about his woman.
Ah, damn. Tyler was his best friend, and here he was having luscious thoughts about his sister. Get tough, man. Buck up. Yeah, that was part of the problem. He was up.
She was limp, draped over him like an exhausted kitten, her delectable mouth partly open, smudges below the thick, blonde lashes. The complete package was so exquisite it broke his heart.
She was taking care of him, the big, bad SEAL—yeah, that felt good.
Incredibly good.
Except, right now he didn’t feel big or bad, just humbled by the courage of this five-foot-four woman wrapped around him.
Taking care of him wasn’t all she’d done. It didn’t take too much brainpower to see that, because he was fried right now as he realized that she’d gone after Doc Blessing.
Goddammit!
All the way to Charikar on her own and, judging by the way she was dressed, she’d done it disguised as a man.
Son of a bitch!
His estimation of her went up a whole freaking notch, maybe two. That took some major guts and he was pissed that he couldn’t have minimized the need for that, but his wound was infected. He was feeling more lucid, but the vestiges of the fever took their toll. He knew that much and regardless of whether he liked it or not, the mission was necessary.
But knowing that didn’t stop his gut from clenching, thinking about the danger she had been in.
She mumbled something unintelligible and burrowed even deeper into him. Damn, this was not only a nice way to wake up, but he could so easily get used to this.
No, you moron. She’s not for you. This was about danger, adrenaline and fear. It wasn’t conducive to forging any kind of romantic or soft feelings, for that matter. He had to get healed up. Stay tough and move her out of here. Three days, his ass.
He groaned softly. Had she injected him or had that been Blessing? Had he actually told her to kiss it and make it all better?
He felt her stir and waited. There it was. She stiffened, but didn’t move, and he couldn’t help feeling good about that. She liked where she was…maybe? She opened her eyes and he didn’t even blink. “Good morning, sunshine.”
She met his gaze and blinked, then held him transfixed, the rising sun making the flecks in her amber eyes look like pure gold. “You still feel warm, but I think your fever broke,” she murmured, moving her hand on his face, down to his neck. He had to clamp his teeth together, forcing a breath out of him, a new rush of heat sizzling through him.
She was wrong. He wasn’t warm, he was hot.
“I think I have you to thank for that.” He’d already kissed her once. He was sure of that, that he’d kissed a US senator while his brain was swamped with fever, and he couldn’t even use the excuse that it was the illness. It only allowed him to follow through on something he’d wanted to do since he’d laid eyes on her.
Startled, Piper looked up at him.
“You went all the way there to get her, didn’t you?” For the first time in his life, Dex was breathless. The anticipation of kissing her riddled his blood like a burning fuse on its way to detonation, along with anger that was just as explosive.
“You’re pissed.”
“By yourself. You went alone.”
“I knew you’d be upset.”
“Lady, you haven’t seen me upset,” he growled.
“I have caused you nothing but problems,” she murmured. “It was the least I could do for all that you’ve risked for me.”
He never wanted to give her one single reason to think what he had done for her was against his will. He would do it all again in a heartbeat.
He meant to open his mouth and tell her, but she already knew. He saw the knowledge mirrored in the deep, tawny depths of her eyes, which pulled at him like a vortex. She twisted him the hell up, and his anger only got worse; it was because, for the first time in his life, he felt bone-deep fear that ate him up. Hell, he was a commanding officer, and he’d just been promoted to full lieutenant. He led men into
battle, engaged the enemy in hand-to-hand combat, killed without an ounce of remorse, and this woman, this freaking brave-heart woman, was breaking him down. He meant to talk, but instead he hauled her up against him.
“You are a freaking piece of work.” He pressed his forehead to hers, trying to overcome his emotions, his system overloading. His pulse was heavy, his heart laboring. She stared at him, her eyes wide, with a sheen that made him want to put his fist through a wall.
“I was so scared.” Her voice was softer, huskier, more seductive. Seductive because she wasn’t telling him that she was afraid for herself. She’d gone into danger for him and his heart felt suddenly too big for his chest. Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard and tightened his hold, the rigidly suppressed feelings boiling up inside him. Getting close to her was the worst mistake he’d ever made.
His throat tight and his eyes burning, he took a pain-filled breath, his own voice low and rough when he said, “If something had happened to you…”
His mouth brushed hers and she made a wholly feminine yet utterly involuntary and soft sound.
“I wasn’t going to let you die or suffer needlessly,” she whispered against his lips.
He made a raw, aching sound and grasped her jaw, covering her mouth in a wet, deep, blistering kiss. Gathering her against him, working his mouth hungrily over hers, Dex couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She made another helpless sound against his mouth and he tightened his arm around her and dragged his lips away, his breath labored.
“This isn’t a good idea. There’s too much fever and my mind is screwed up with these drugs. I’m crazy pissed at you, but dammit, you’re one ballsy woman.”
It took everything he had to let her go, but they were in a house full of people and he was jacked up in more ways than one. Dex didn’t do well when his head wasn’t screwed on right. His judgment was definitely skewed right now. Shot to damn hell.