Captive of Fate (10 page)

“I am not a child!” she cried, stamping her foot.

He jerked the sleeping bag out of the pack and the blanket. “Your actions prove that, lady. For two cents I’d take you over my knee and paddle your rear.”

“I said I was sorry! I can’t help it if the commissioner didn’t convey the message to you. Why are you so angry at me?” she rattled, tears blurring her vision. Her voice trembled. “All I wanted to do was to make sure that we had good photos. I didn’t think any of these policemen were trustworthy photographers.”

He dragged the pack alongside the tent and unsnapped the webb belt around his waist which carried a .45 pistol. “Yeah, and you can get killed just as easily for all your good intentions,” he snarled, placing it on the blanket inside the tent.

Alanna choked back a sob, clenching her fists. “At least I’d die doing something right for a change!”

He turned like a lithe jungle cat, gripping her arms, his face inches from her own, his breath hot. “Dammit, I won’t allow you to put your life in danger!” he rasped. “You silly little fool!” He released her just as suddenly, and Alanna stumbled backward, hand against her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Shadows danced over the planes of his face as he glared across the short distance between them. “Heroics are for fools,” he breathed harshly. “Your life is worth more than any damn picture you might take, even if it is the one that could save my career.”

Her emotions were in utter chaos. She felt naked before him, a naughty child caught doing something wrong. Anger mixed with her confusion, and she knew she had to defend herself.

“You think all of the people who work on the Hill are cheats and liars. Well, they’re not! I’m after the truth in this mess, Matt. And if it means I go out tramping around in a jungle to get the evidence, then I’ll do it. I’m no heroine, believe me. I don’t want to die. But I also believe that you are innocent, and I want to prove Senator Thornton wrong. How can I do that by sitting back in San Dolega? What if these policemen accidentally destroyed some evidence that might help vindicate you?”

He shook his head, running his fingers through his damp hair. “You don’t understand, do you? God, you’re like so many of those young men who went over to Nam, volunteering out of some idealistic sense of right and wrong…. This world doesn’t give a damn if you ride a white horse and fight on the side of justice, Alanna. That doesn’t mean a thing anymore! And if you went to that site and got killed, do you think Thornton would drop one crocodile tear over your death?”

She stood frozen, her chin high, eyes blazing with a sense of righteous wrath. “Of course he would!” she defended.

Matt swore vehemently. “Quit being so naive! He doesn’t care if you get hurt, maimed, or tortured as long as he gets evidence against me! And I refuse to have you hurt because the bastard wants my head on a platter!”

“I’m not being naive. And you’re wrong about justice being nonexistent in this world. My God, has the military destroyed that much of your faith and trust in people?”

He stood there, silent and brooding. “The military didn’t do it, war did.”

“Well, I can’t understand that, can I?” she hurled back bitterly. “War is foreign to me. I can only work from my reality and what I know to be true. I think war has warped your whole view of human beings, Matt. You’re distrustful and jaded.”

His mouth compressed into a single, thin line as he looked past her into the darkness, the silence icy and brittle between them. “That’s how you see me?” he inquired softly, a razor edge to his voice. “A warped, emotionally crippled human being who views the world through jaded eyes?”

Alanna realized the dangerous ground she was treading on. Oh, God, why had she flung words at him without thinking first? Paul’s dreary advice came back to her: Bridle your temper just long enough to think before you act, Alanna. That way, you won’t be misunderstood. She spread her hands out before her in a gesture of apology. “Please,” she whispered, “I’m tired and—and I got angry. I spoke before I thought out what I wanted to say.”

His eyes glittered with animal ferocity. “Sometimes the truth comes out in anger.”

Her shoulders, stiff with tension, slumped in exhaustion. “I told you once before, we’re aliens to one another. You’re from a different world. I’m trying hard to understand, Matt, but you put up so many walls between us. You talk in riddles.”

His eyes lost their harshness, but he maintained his tense stance. “Such as?”

Alanna shrugged tiredly, hanging her head. “Like the statement you made about the soldiers going over to Vietnam thinking of themselves as knights rescuing someone in distress. I don’t think it’s fair of you to say that. Sure, I know a lot of soldiers probably see themselves that way. But what’s wrong with fighting for something that you believe in?” She met his unreadable gaze. “Why did you go over?” she whispered.

He exhaled harshly, allowing his hands to drop to his side. His face lost its hardness, and there was raw emotion in the depths of his gray eyes. “I was one of them,” he began, strain evident in his voice. “I made every mistake in the book when I arrived over there. You’re right, you know, about the white knight on the charger. Hell,” he rasped, shaking his head, “we were all nothing, but a bunch of Don Quixotes tilting at windmills.”

“So?” Alanna cried. “Why do you have such contempt for yourself for being that way?”

“I was one of the few with that attitude who survived. It took one tour to change my mind, and all my friends were dead by that time.”

Alanna moved within a foot of where he stood, unsure, but sensing the importance of the moment. “You said you were there for two tours?”

He frowned, avoiding her gaze. “That’s right,” he repeated without emotion.

She was bewildered. “But why? If you were disillusioned, Matt…oh, God, I feel so helpless when I talk to you,” she admitted, unable to bear his closeness for one more second. She started to turn away and felt a restraining hand on her arm.

“Stay,” he commanded softly, pulling her back toward him.

Alanna felt the heat of his body. So close…so vital and strong. She swayed back against him, vaguely aware of his arm sliding around her waist. “Oh, Matt,” she whispered brokenly.

He held her tightly, his head resting against her own. They stood there for a long time, and she felt the ragged beat of his heart. Closing her eyes, she was aware of the anguish within him.

Finally, he forced the words out, low and tortured. “I was married once, Alanna. I came home after the first tour and married Rachel. I guess I don’t do things on the spur of the moment because I had known her for five years before I asked her to marry me. Now…” his voice faded. “Well,” he began heavily, “it’s too late now. She became pregnant, and I was on top of the world. I had finally found a woman whom I could love just as fiercely as she loved me. Then, because of my previous military record and my training as a Recon, I got ordered back to Nam for a second tour. He halted, resting his head against her shoulder in the gloomy darkness. “I was out on a mission when—when I got word that Rachel, our child, and my parents had died in a car crash.” His embrace tightened. “I couldn’t even fly home to see them buried, it was too late. I never got to see our baby daughter…just photos of her that Rachel had sent right after she was born. I took my leave right away, and all I could do was place flowers on their graves.”

Tears flowed freely down her face as she turned around in his embrace. Slipping her arms about his waist she murmured, “I’m sorry, Matt, so very sorry. No one…no one deserves that kind of agony. Not you, not any human being.”

A grimace tugged at the corner of his mouth. He absently brushed her cheek dry of the tears. “There’s more,” he warned her briefly.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I want to hear it.”

His eyes were dark as he studied her in the gathering silence. “I’ve never talked to anyone about all of this,” he admitted. “Funny,” he mused. “You have a lot of strength to stand here and listen. Either that or—”

“I care enough to listen, Matt,” she returned, her voice firm. “What happened next?”

He rested his hands on her shoulders, gazing back into the darkness. “I lost it, in three simple words. After their deaths I went back into the bush and turned all my grief into hate for the enemy. I damn near lost my men near the end of the tour. Fortunately, Cauley rescued us against my orders.” He sighed heavily, returning his gaze back to her upturned face. “I was a madman of sorts over there. I volunteered for every mission that had a high probability of enemy contact. I wanted to die myself.”

“But it never happened, thank God,” she whispered fervently.

He shrugged. “With time I’ve worked out most of the grief. I stayed over there too long. My commander should have rotated me. But during that period we were pulling out, and it was every man for himself.”

“Did you eventually get help?”

“No. I just lived through it.” He gave a sad smile. “Just like thousands of other men, Alanna. I was no different from them. And my problems were small compared to some of theirs.”

She bit down on her lip. “Is—is that why Tim Thornton got killed?”

He caressed her neck, taking one braid and bringing it across her shoulder. “Tim was transferred into my company just before we pulled out,” he acknowledged.

Her heart began beating faster as his fingers sent small tingling shivers up and down the slender column of her neck. He leaned down, his breath moist against her cheek.

“Sometime, Babe, if things go as I want them to, I may tell you what actually happened to Tim. I promised never to divulge the truth to anyone.”

She pulled away, yet remained within the circle of his arms. “The truth?” she echoed, puzzled. “I thought the truth was already known from the way the senator always talked.”

“Not all of it,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Who will the truth serve, then?” she wanted to know.

“No one, in the end.”

She shook her head. “My God, I would have spilled it a long time ago if I were you!” she exclaimed.

Matt smiled patiently. “At whose expense? It would mean Senate hearings and public embarrassment for several prominent people. Hell, if it was just Thornton, I wouldn’t care. But it involves good military officers who would be hung out to dry if the truth were known. I’ve seen it happen too many other times. Washington needs a scapegoat when there’s a public embarrassment, so they chop heads in the military. I’ve seen brilliant officers who were outstanding leaders get canned. I’d rather keep my mouth shut over the incident and take the heat from Thornton occasionally than let this mess ruin good men’s careers.” He gazed down at her. “Does that make sense to you, my dove who doesn’t understand war?”

She shivered as he caressed her cheek with his roughened fingers. “I understand the principle, Matt.” A soft smile curved her lips. “And you know something else?”

He leaned down, his mouth brushing hers with a tentative, feathery kiss. “What?”

His maleness was overpowering, and she fought to maintain the thread of thought. “I—I think you’re a gallant knight on a white horse who believes in justice and fairness after all. Despite your contemptuous words, Matt, you’re a knight. Perhaps your armor is tarnished and badly dented, but you continue to be gallant and honorable, even in dishonorable circumstances.”

He laughed softly, nuzzling her ear with delicious slowness. “Like I said, Babe, we’re all Don Quixotes tilting at windmills.”

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she met his tender gaze. “By standing for what you believe in,” she whispered, “you are a giant among men.”

“I’ll settle for just being special in your eyes,” he returned huskily.

His mouth descended upon her parted lips, the salty wetness of her tears giving a bittersweet taste to the kiss. She sighed rapturously, leaning fully against his hard male body, delighting in the feel of his warmth and strength. In her mind and her heart, she welcomed this man who made no excuses for his weaknesses or his strength. He was vitally human in a heady, exciting way, and she treasured each moment spent with him.

His mouth fit perfectly against her lips, parting them with gentle, exploratory pressure. A moan of pleasure slipped from her throat as he tasted her mouth thoroughly, his tongue igniting a burning heat in the center of her trembling body. Entwining his fingers through her thick hair, he imprisoned her face, drawing her more deeply into the fiery kiss.

An uncontrollable heat swept through her, and she returned the ardor of his kiss. A groan vibrated through his body, and he pinned her tightly against him, his hand sweeping down her spine to capture her hips and mold them against his own. Her heart pounded wildly; her breath was stolen from her. Slowly, ever so slowly, he released her. Alanna met his hooded, intense eyes, shivering with need for more of his knowing touch. Her lips parted, wet and throbbing from the force of his mouth as it had plundered hers. No man had ever evoked such violent desires in her.

He leaned forward, kissing her forehead, cheeks, and eyes. “I want you,” he breathed thickly. “God how I need you, Alanna. You affect me like no other woman I’ve ever known….”

Her mind rebelled for an instant only. Then her instincts and emotions overruled logic, and she willingly melted back into his awaiting arms. “Matt,” she whispered, slipping her arms around his neck, “Hold me, just hold me….”

The night was shattered by the throaty scream of a jaguar. Alanna gasped, clinging to Matt. The cry of the jungle cat was much closer this time. She felt him tense, his arm moving protectively around her body as he looked out into the night. Alanna heard the Costa Ricans stirring, stumbling out of their tents, mumbling in Spanish. Again the jaguar screamed. It sent a shiver of pure fear down her spine, and she cringed against Matt’s shoulder.

“He’s close,” he muttered. “Get over by the fire and start throwing more wood on it,” he ordered quietly. Matt released her, giving her a gentle shove in that direction. “Go on,” he urged, moving to the tent and drawing out his .45.

Fearfully, Alanna did as she was ordered, trying to penetrate the darkness for a sign of the cat. The Costa Rican policemen followed her example, quickly scrambling for other pieces of wood. She stood tensely, watching Matt. He walked outside the circle of protection, and she held her breath. An excited jumble of Spanish fell against her ears, but her attention was riveted upon Matt. He seemed to become a cat himself as he melted into the shadows, his feet landing on the earth without a sound. She lost sight of him, her heart beating painfully as she waited an eternity until he came back.