Anything, Anywhere, Anytime (28 page)

Instead she cinched her pillow tighter and simply remained grateful that she hadn't lost all grip on her world.

Her emotions.

Self-knowledge was a huge pain in the ass. She was scared of failing with Jack, of being abandoned again and having her grip slide away for good. Of course, she was already alone in her rigidly ordered little world.

But then being alone by choice was a helluva lot easier to face then being left alone if Jack walked.

Foggy edges of sleep thinning, Yasmine blinked against the disorientation. And found herself staring into deep blue eyes looking back up at her as she sprawled over a decidedly male and naked chest.

"Good morning." Drew's gravelly greeting vibrated under her.

"Good morning to you, too." She stretched against him, worked out the kinks and slight ache in well-loved muscles, Drew's body making the most wonderful mattress. She arched forward to drop a quick kiss on his mouth, then on his furrowed brow that worried too much.

Had he even slept? She couldn't see him lowering his guard to rest. And of course he had every reason not to trust her.

Already the niggling truth diluted her morning-after euphoria. She tucked her face against his bristly chest to keep him from seeing the fears that likely flickered through her eyes. What would he do when he discovered the truth? Maybe he would never have to know. How easy to latch on to that notion.

His fingers stroked along her back, continually, as if he sensed her need for contact. "Yasmine, the next few days are going to be hectic. And then you'll be tied up with in processing and questioning once you make it to the States."

A chill iced through her skin to her bones. "Are you giving me the brush-off?"

"Do you want me to?"

She shook her head against his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart.

"What's your plan once you're there?"

The thought that he might offer more... She tamped down even the idea. "I had hoped to stay with one of my sisters until I find work."

"Don't you have a pile of your daddy's oil money stashed away somewhere?"

"Not if I leave here."

His arms tightened around her protectively. "If you need anything..."

She smiled against his chest. How like a man to assume she was helpless. "Thank you, but I will be fine. Of course I have to pass licensure boards in the United States, but then I plan to find work."

"Licensure boards?"

Worries took a momentary back seat to the immediate pleasure of surprising him. "I am a nurse."

He didn't disappoint. He hefted her shoulders up far enough where she could see his shock—and pride. "A nurse? No shit?"

"No shit."

They laughed together as she cuddled back against his chest. "I graduated from the university last year."

Took a cruise with her parents, so happy and carefree only weeks before her world exploded into hellish mayhem. "My bachelor's degree may not be as prestigious as my flight surgeon sister's medical degree, but I can support myself anywhere I choose to live."

"Anywhere?"

Had she pushed too hard for a sign from him? These man-woman dances were new to her. "But of course first I will need to take care of those licensure issues. So I imagine I will be spending some time with my sister in Virginia."

His chest rose and fell under hers and she could almost hear the thoughts shuffling around inside his head.

Finally a deep sigh lifted her higher before he said, "Virginia, huh? I know this restaurant I like to go to whenever I am up in D.C., not too far away from where you'll be."

Her fingers convulsed against his arms with hope that maybe she could hold on to this moment after all.

Have another such moment with this man. "A restaurant?"

"On the water. I think you'll like it."

He fell silent again. She sensed he would not be offering her any more just yet, but recognized the wealth of commitment in that simple statement coming from such a stark man. He kissed her hair, toyed with a lock.

And just that fast, that simple, her heart tumbled.

She loved him. Truly loved this man.

She let the notion settle. Where was the joy? Instead she was terrified because the flash of love showering through her illuminated hundreds of tiny flaws and lies within her, leaving no unexposed corner to tuck them away.

Selfish wishes had no place here between them. This was no longer about her keeping her secrets. It had become about him, and being worthy of him, because somehow one day this man would see into her soul.

And she desperately wanted a someday with him.

There was only one way to have it. Tell him the truth now. She would have to pray that his innate sense of honor would understand she really had no choice before and that he would forgive her.

"Drew," she.repeated, savoring the feel of his name on her lips in case she never had the right to say it again. "I need to tell you something I have been keeping hidden."

The daylight exposed everything.

Sydney closed herself in to hide from the bright sun's rays, her arms wrapped around her stomach. She hunched ever so slightly during her brief walk within the small fenced area. Changes in the schedule unsettled her. Why a lunchtime walk when they always, always, walked after supper during the cooler part of the day?

The high-noon rays baked her skin and the top of her head until sweat trickled between her breasts. Kayla and Phillip strolled a few feet ahead, side-by-side most of the time these days. Their growing bond seemed so obvious to her she feared their captors might see it, too. Exploit it. Soon, she wouldn't have to worry any longer.

Stored heat from the ground saturated up through the soles of her sandals. Still, she didn't dare complain or sacrifice the too brief taste of freedom.

Today more than ever she wanted to be outside, that much closer to Blake.

Scanning the stark stretch of rocky desert broken only by high, barbed fences, she marveled that he had made it in, stayed hidden even now. Where was he? She shifted left, right, tried to sense his eyes on her.

Craved the connection.

For the first time in nearly four months, she dared dream about afterward. She wasn't naive enough to imagine she would escape this hell without some emotional scars. She wondered if it would be easier to move forward with someone who understood the nightmare as Phillip and Kayla had done. Or would any relationship need to be a fresh start with no connections or reminders of...everything.

Of course, she would have one very tangible reminder in the baby. She wouldn't abort it. And even as she considered adoption, she just as quickly abandoned the notion because it smacked too much of her mother's leaving. As much as she tried to put a positive spin on that one, it still hurt.

Deeply. It had taken her a long time to share her real feelings about that with Blake.

She squinted into the rippling heat waves distorting the horizon. Could he see her? Focus in on her more clearly now than he had in those early months of their relationship when she'd kept so much hidden. Out of his reach. She tried to remember what sort of equipment he mentioned using on other missions. But then before long they'd avoided talking about work. Hers and his.

Until finally there hadn't been anything left to talk about
but
their jobs...

"
If you quit, I will, too.'' Sydney delivered her ultimatum with hope, even while deep within her a
voice much lik e her practical sister's insisted she'd just dealt the relationship a death blow.

Blak e turned his head on the pillow. "What?''

"If you quit the Navy, I'll resign my position with the IFB. I won't go to Rubistan.''

He leaned to k iss her, inching the patchwork quilt higher to combat the Virginia winter chill. "You
k now I can't do that. I owe time. I can't walk away without risk ing a court martial.''

"Then stop being a SEAL. There are other things you can do in the Navy that won't tak e you into the
same dark pits you've seen lately.''

He stopped adjusting the quilt around them. Morning sun glinted a halo off his golden hair,
highlighting the swirl of his boyish cowlick so at odds with the honed man. "You're not really
serious. You just want me to be the one to say no so you're off the hook .''

"Try me.''

"Fine, then." Rare strains of anger tightened his jaw. "I'll mak e this easy for you. Quitting is not an
option. I'm a SEAL. It's who I am and if you can't live with that then apparently you can't live with
me."

"Why can't you see the same applies for me, as well? The very things you want from me are the
things that mak e it impossible for me to walk away from what I do."

"Bullshit. At least I protect myself.''

"We have protection. Escorts."

He snorted.

"More of you are injured and k illed in your profession than mine. The only real difference I can see
here is that you're a man and I'm a woman."

His eyes shut tight. Exploding into motion, he rolled away from her and buried his face in his hands.

"Damn it, Sydney, you don't k now what I've seen over there. What they can do to you.''

Because he wouldn't talk to her. Instead he let it swallow him whole until she, k new one day he
wouldn't come back even if the shell of his body walk ed in the door. "I love you, Blak e.''

Muscles flexed and rippled across his back , twitched in his arms. "You k now I love you, too.'' His
hoarse answer scratched the air.

"I'm not so sure love is enough anymore if we can't accept each other.'' She sat up, pulled her k nees
to her chest, the gulf between them widening by the second. "You tell me all the time I'm yourhaven.

Well, you k now what? You don't want me so much as somebody to save you the same way I save
homeless k ids in a Third World country.''

How damned ironic that now Blake would be the one saving her.

She stared out at the hard-caked sand and winged her thoughts toward him.
I'm sorry.

If only she'd thought to say it then.

Sydney walked as close to the edge of the camp as she dared and talked to Kayla and Phillip in case Blake could hear with all that equipment they never discussed. The sound of his voice had brought her immeasurable comfort two nights ago. She hoped hers, if he could hear her, would do the same.

"Who won the last game of spades?"

A hand clamped around her arm. "Come with me," the guard ordered in guttural English. A flutter twinged in her stomach. Nerves. Again. Stronger until she realized...

Oh, God. Not nerves. The baby moved.

Before she could wrap her mind around the landmark moment in her pregnancy, the guard tugged her again, dragging her toward the center of the compound until they stopped in front of a stark, cement, one-story building beside her barracks cell.

Like all the other buildings.

Inside, down the hall they walked. His knock elicited a brusque command. The voice. Too familiar. She fought the urge to run.

The door swung wide, bringing her face-to-face with her worst nightmare. Her baby's father.

Ammar al-Khayr sat behind a desk like any businessman on a lunch break, plate in front of him. His dusty khakis and loose, linen shirt rippled with gusts from the fan in front of a window, the same fan wafting spices into the air, gagging her. She remembered too well the smell of them on his breath inches from her face, over her.

She forced herself to blink and breathe evenly. He was just a man. Quite ordinary in appearance actually, average height and weight.

Deceptively so.

God, but he was strong. Fearfully strong even when he had to be nearing fifty. Fanaticism defied age. He might harm her, but he wouldn't win. She just had to stay alive a little while longer.

His gaze roved her, but not sexually—it had never been sexual. She knew without question he hated her simply because of what she represented. He didn't lust after her, in fact, found her disgusting, to be used.

Abused.

Still he continued to evaluate her while she struggled not to fidget in spite of the creepy feeling spidering up her spine. Had she somehow given Blake away? Or had they been found out? Bile burned hot in the back of her throat. The stifling heat, stench, and memories wreaked havoc on her already queasy stomach.

"Have a seat, please, Ms. Hyatt. It seems we have a problem on our hands and since you are the senior member of your group, I decided to bring it to your attention first."

He definitely knew something. And between Blake and the baby, she carried two colossal secrets that could cost her life. Or worse—theirs.

Jack hated dreams because there were no secrets.

Dreams attacked with a no-holds-barred approach while a guy's defenses were down. Everybody had to catch some Z's eventually and dreams' agendas were patient. Even as he tried to wrestle himself out of the nightmare of the moment, he wasn't having a helluva lot of luck.

This particular one had its claws in deep, submerging him in a skyful of blood and wives with life-and-death stakes. His dad kept chanting over Jack's headset about how a man kicks ass for his woman.

Jack understood he'd screwed up that lesson. He turned over control of the jet to Rodeo so he could crawl down into the cargo hold and ask his brother Tony for absolution.

And crap, but his dreams always seemed to enjoy digging those claws deeper with irony and humor as if to pay him back for his own smart-ass ways. Because then damned if Tony didn't deny forgiveness with a resounding rendition of "Don't Be Cruel" before hopping into Grandma Korba's Pinto and driving off the back load ramp into a wide-open sky.

Shit, he
was
trying with Monica. This time he had his uniform and M-9 and military airplane. He was doing his best to kick ass and take names, to save her sister. Keep Monica safe. He wouldn't screw it up again.

He had himself reined in. Always, slow and easy. No losing control like some reckless college kid who was so horny that half the time he forgot to walk across the room for a condom when making love to his wife even though they had both decided to put off kids until after graduation.