Lindsay McKenna – Taking Fire (страница 13)
She felt Mike turn, his shadow looming over her. The thin wash of moonlight only made the gloom even scarier for Khat. Her gaze caught the faintest movement of a leaf, a change in it, indicating someone could be sneaking up on them. It wasn’t; it was just the wind playing havoc on her senses, but her nerves were taut.
In the distance, she could hear the Black Hawk and the two Apache combat gunships, escorting it, the thumping of the rotors cutting through the darkness toward their position. They would land with no lights on. Everyone was wearing NVGs. The night hid them from attack up to a point.
Mike eased the NVGs on his helmet. Khat’s face was tense, her eyes narrowed, in complete guard mode. She’d pulled off her goggles, the black baseball cap pushed up on her head. A powerful surge of protection nearly overwhelmed him. He was so damn invested in her emotionally, and he didn’t want to extricate himself. Watching her scan the area, her profile clean, those soft lips accentuated, he thought the unthinkable. He wanted to kiss the hell out of her, feel her mouth beneath his. Feel her respond. A flood of heated emotions coursed through him as he stood beside her.
Khat felt the warmth of Mike’s strong hand come to rest on her shoulder. She was wearing her cammies and even through them, she could feel the male heat of his fingers. Surprised, she turned quickly, thinking he saw something and was silently warning her. Instead, as she looked up into his darkly shadowed face, her lips parted. The look in his glittering eyes was focused on her. Her breath hitched as he pulled her toward him. He was going to kiss her! Panic mingled with shock. And then, Khat felt an even more powerful emotion sweep through her, erasing the other two feelings. Her mind shorted out. Mike was going to kiss her. Nothing was further from her reality. For five years of loneliness, Khat had accepted her twisted fate.
Until now.
Her eyes widened as he bent his head, his mouth curving softly against hers. His hand was firm, guiding her as close as they could get to one another. The gear they wore prevented any real intimacy. She closed her eyes, inhaling his scent, feeling his mouth tentatively explore hers. The prickle of his beard against her cheek sent tingles racing through her. His hand slid from her shoulder, fingers curling gently around her nape, tipping her head upward, angling her just enough to deepen their kiss.
Her world exploded, and Khat moaned, her hand moving to his chest, her fingers curving against his Kevlar vest. She tasted his maleness, his power, his coaxing, asking her to participate. It had been so long since she’d kissed a man! And she wanted this. She wanted to taste Mike Tarik, feel his roughened lips rasp against her softer yielding ones.
Breath ragged, Khat sank against him, and he took her full weight, welcoming her into his partial embrace. He was giving her so much that it brought tears to her eyes. It was as if Mike somehow sensed she was fractured and terribly vulnerable to a man. He parted her lips more, inviting, asking her for greater entrance. A hunger roared up through her, and Khat responded to his scalding invitation. She felt him groan. There was no sound, just vibration. It sent elation through her as her fingers curved shyly around his thick neck, pulling him closer, wanting deeper connection with him.
Her knees felt like so much jelly as his tongue slowly traced her lower lip, explored the corner of her mouth and slid deeper, finding her tongue. Suddenly, Khat felt a bolt of white-hot heat clench in her channel, and it was almost painful in its swift contraction. A whimper escaped her.
They were out of time. Two Apaches thundered high overhead, guard dogs to protect the Medevac when it landed. They would be on the lookout for enemy. Mike regretfully eased his mouth from hers, breathing unevenly, staring hard down into her drowsy-looking eyes. Her lips were glistening, slightly swollen from the power of his kiss. He released Khat but kept his hand lightly on her shoulder. She looked bewildered as she stared up at him. There was burning arousal in her dark eyes. He’d felt her innocent response in their kiss, sweet and unsure with him. Her slender fingers tightened against his shoulder.
He framed her face with his hand, leaning close, inches between them. “Listen to me, Khat. I’ve got your back. You call me anytime you need help. All right?”
His guttural growl sifted through her shaking body. Khat had never been kissed like this. She felt weak, hot and needy. All from one kiss! The palm of his hand was rough against her cheek. She saw the hunter’s intensity in his slitted eyes, heard the growl in his low voice. He meant it. Barely able to nod, she couldn’t find her voice, so shocked by his molten kiss. So many emotions were running through her, some good, some terrifying monsters from her past, that she felt a lump form in her throat as she rested against his tall, strong body. Mike exuded an animal-like protection toward her, as if she had just been claimed as his mate. There was an overwhelming sense that she was his woman. She could feel it.
Mike was taken aback as he saw tears form in her eyes, slide silently down her cheeks. He felt their warmth slide beneath his palm, dampening his flesh. He used his thumb to push the tears away from the high slope of her cheek. The sound of the Black Hawk grew closer. A minute out, maybe. Damn! Frustrated, he could read her eyes like windows into her soul, seeing desire mingling with terror, and he couldn’t translate all of what was going on within Khat. Fear of him? Impossible! She could have stepped away from him at any point. She could have refused to kiss him. But she was here, standing before him, her face a map of how she was feeling inwardly toward him. Her lower lip trembled, and she looked away, shame in her expression.
“Khat,” he growled, gently forcing her to hold his gaze, “this isn’t over, Angel. Not by a long shot. I’m going to find you. Do you hear me? And when I do, you aren’t walking away from me again. I want to get to know you.”
Khat closed her eyes, giving a bare nod of her head, his hand trapping her against him. She could hear the Black Hawk’s arrival, the blades puncturing the night air. Pulling away from him, she quickly wiped her eyes, turned and put on her NVGs. Her heart was in utter turmoil, torn, hurting and wanting Mike all at the same time. Compressing her lips, she picked up his ruck and walked to the edge of the bushes and trees.
The Black Hawk landed. Trying to clear her blown senses, shake off the shock of his unexpected kiss, Khat crouched and then started her run toward the helo. Dust and dirt kicked up, eighty mile an hour gusts created by the rotors. She saw the door slide open, and one aircrew chief hopped out. Giving him the ruck, she stepped aside.
Tarik was right behind her. He saw Khat remain crouched, quickly moving away, fading into the dust clouds raised by the helo. The crew chief took his M-4, and Mike grabbed the frame of the door, hauling himself inside the cabin. He was going home, and it was the last place he wanted to go right now. As the combat medic guided him to a litter, he sat down, not wanting to lie down. He traded his Kevlar helmet for another helmet, pulling it on, in instant communications with the four men on board.
“I’m good to go,” he growled. “Thanks for picking me up. Let’s exfil...”
In seconds, the Black Hawk broke gravity with the earth and quickly turned, heading out over the open, empty desert plain. It picked up speed and altitude swiftly, the twin engines roaring, shaking the helo with rhythmic vibrations. Mike felt suddenly sad. And happy. It was a mix. He’d wanted to kiss Khat ever since he’d become conscious. And she’d
His hand curled into a fist, and he focused on the combat medic who was asking him a lot of medical questions. He’d have to go to the dispensary, get the arm x-rayed and go through the medical system. Once done, he’d be expected to see the chief of the platoon come tomorrow morning. He’d go back to his tent in the SEAL section of Camp Bravo, climb into his cot and sleep. If he could...
* * *
KHAT BLINKED BACK the hot tears that continued to fall. She quickly ran back to the wadi to where the horses were tied. The sound of the Black Hawk and guard dog Apaches would draw any enemies who were around. She would be in danger. Leaping up on Zorah, she used her calf, not the reins, to turn the mare around. She tied the rope to Mina’s halter on the back of her saddle. They would slowly pick their way out of the wadi and up to another goat trail. Khat never took the same route twice.
In a village where she posed as a nurse, the Taliban had caught and tortured her. Khat savagely shoved down those memories. She had to ride through the night and remain alert for her enemy. Once on a safer trail, her mind revolved back to that capture. She’d been holding medical clinics for a year with great success; gathering intel from the villagers and giving it to her handler in J-bad. The villages along the border were grateful for her riding in on her horse, a packhorse in tow with medical supplies for the men, women and children.