Down Range (Shadow Warriors - Book 2) (13 page)

Getting close to Morgan was like touching fire, and his damned body had a mind of its own. He swallowed hard, kept his game face in place, as if nothing were wrong.

Jake placed the medical items from her blow-out kit nearby. He reached for it, hoping Morgan didn’t see the fine tremble of his hands, and said, “You need two more ibuprofen” and handed them to her. Dragging over her CamelBak, Jake placed it in her lap.

This morning, Morgan appeared fragile. He’d never seen her this way. Getting shot deeply affected everyone. It was just a question of how much and for how long. The fire that was usually in her green eyes was extinguished. It seemed that the small things he did for her made a difference. He’d seen the warmth and gratefulness in her eyes when he’d brought her breakfast. And when he’d come so damn close to her, he’d seen vulnerability in her face, as if she needed him close to her, as if he represented safety to her right now. He knew he could give this to Morgan.

SEALs were great at protecting others even though he knew Morgan didn’t want that from him. She’d felt smothered by him two years ago when he’d tried to protect her, and she’d fought it. Morgan didn’t need a man like that. Jake was beginning to understand the finite difference between him being tender toward her versus being protective. Every human, he was finally beginning to understand, needed another human being when they were hurt or down. Being sensitive, being tender and solicitous, was different from being an overbearing guard dog. And he clearly saw Morgan responding to his care. It made him feel damn good about himself. And her.

Jake knew from experience that coming so close to death wasn’t a pleasant or easy place to go. No one wanted to die. And he knew how important it had been for his teammates to be more solicitous toward him when he’d been hit, knocked six feet backward, slamming into the ground, taking two bullets to his chest. Only the Kevlar plates had saved him, but Jake got a whole new perspective on the fact he wanted to live, not die. That one time had changed him forever. Every day became precious and to be lived to its fullest extent. More important for Jake, it was to be lived honestly, unselfishly.

Morgan took the ibuprofen and drank the water. “What is the plan now? Are we going after Khogani?”

He barely shook his head. “Vero wants us to stand down for twenty-four hours.” He saw Morgan cock her head, confusion coming to her eyes. “I gave him your medical status report.”

“Dammit, Jake. You shouldn’t have. I can ride with this hematoma. I want Khogani!”

Grinning a little, he enjoyed the fire in Morgan’s eyes. The way she set that mouth of hers, he braced himself for more heated arguments. “I’m the sniper team leader. If I think you can’t push the butt of that AW Mag into your shoulder correctly, it means you can’t get off an accurate shot. Vero agreed with me. There are very few of us SEALs who haven’t taken bullets to our Kevlar, Morgan. This is the first time for you and you’re going to have to trust me…trust
us,
on this decision. Today, I want you to ice pack that area. I’ve got three packs in my third-line gear we’ll use, too. It will reduce the swelling enough, I think, so that we can leave tomorrow just before dawn.”

“Damn,” Morgan whispered, angry and helpless. Of all things! Frustrated, she muttered, “I’m
not
going to be bedridden, Jake!”

His mouth quirked. “Far be it from me to force you to stay in bed.”

His eyes gleamed, and Morgan caught the implication. All her anger dissolved. “I’m just worried Khogani will get too far away. That we won’t be able to catch up to him, Jake.” Giving him a pleading look, she reached out and gripped his hand resting on his long, hard thigh. “Please, let’s go after him? I can ride! We have to close the distance gap on him.”

He felt the warmth of her strong fingers across his. Morgan could be damned persuasive when she wanted to be. Picking up her hand, he held it gently between his own and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of it. “Sorry, babe, you’re grounded.” Jake reluctantly released her hand, saw the shock of his kiss registering on Morgan’s face. Did he see desire in her eyes? Jake couldn’t be sure, and he forced himself to his feet. “Every woman in the village has been boiling hot water all morning and filling that copper tub at Hamid’s place for you. Let’s get you over there. You can take a hot bath, relax and then I’ll tape that ice pack on your shoulder. Okay?” He held out his hand toward her.

A bath…

Morgan was stunned. She knew Hamid’s wife had the hand-beaten copper tub, but it took hours and many kettles and buckets of water for a bath. Not only that, it burned up precious wood supplies that were always in short supply. The women had probably worked since dawn so that she would have a warm bath. She could wash away all the crud, dirt and fear sweat off her body. She could wash her dirty hair. “Th-that was so kind of them,” she said, her voice mirroring her emotion.

“Yes, it is. You’re a heroine around here this morning, Morgan. The people wanted to thank you. I think every house has been boiling water in their largest kettles, walking them up to Hamid’s house.” He smiled tenderly down at her. For a moment, Jake saw tears in her eyes. And then she looked away. He had been touched by the people’s generosity of this village, too. Morgan had earned this gift from them.

“Did you know,” Jake said in a quiet tone, “that they found ten grenades on each soldier’s body? They were climbing that wall last night to wreak havoc on this village. Khogani’s men were planning on running down each of the streets, popping the pins on those grenades and launching them into the houses. If they’d killed you, Morgan, they might have gotten away with it.” He saw the information sink into her, her eyes widening with shock over the possibility.

“My God…” Morgan managed, her voice going hoarse. “I didn’t know….”

He smiled a little. “So? Are you ready for a hot bath with real soap? I always keep a bar of it in my ruck.” Morgan’s face went soft, her lips parting as she took it all in. She lifted her left hand and wrapped it into his strong fingers. The many calluses on Jake’s hand matched her own as he easily lifted her to her feet. She stood close, feeling light-headed for a moment. His hand tightened firmly around hers.

“Okay?” he demanded softly. Morgan had been through a lot. Vero was right: they needed a twenty-four-hour stand-down in order to get her back. The Commander wanted to medevac her to Camp Bravo, but Jake knew Morgan would throw a shoe on that order and adamantly refuse to allow it to happen. He’d argued Morgan’s case and had won her a semireprieve. She’d never know, however. Right now, all Jake wanted was for Morgan to have a low-stress day. And out here in the badlands, that was damn near impossible, but he was going to see to it she was protected. He wasn’t about to let anyone or anything get close to her. Even if Morgan hated his protection, he was going to be that damned big guard dog whether she liked it or not.

Chapter Fourteen

The last thing
Jake did that night was check on Morgan. She was fast asleep, lying on her side. For a moment he stood in the doorway, feeling the drive to simply lie down at her back, hold her close against his body. Protect her. Let her heal. Scowling, he knew it wasn’t meant to be. He walked through the darkened, silent house, the mountain winds blowing furiously across the valley.

The bath had worked miracles for Morgan. Jake was profoundly touched when he was called to take a bath, too. It was dirty water, but, God, it was warm and he didn’t care. Anything to get the stink off him was great. The unscented soap had come from his ruck. It was better to smell like soap than stink. He wearily pulled off the Kevlar vest and dropped it next to his sleeping bag.

Tonight, Morgan didn’t have to wear the ice pack. With cold packs and ibuprofen, the affected area was healing, the swelling down by a good 60 percent. She showed him earlier she could jam that AW sniper rifle into her shoulder, stock tight against her cheek, no problem.

Smiling a little, he placed his SIG next to his ruck, the M-4 next to his Kevlar. Everyone was relaxed because with the drone up in the sky watching and tailing Khogani, the villagers knew he would not attack tonight. A quiet, safe night. For once. Jake shrugged out of his cammie shirt, wearing his clean, tan T-shirt, trousers and boots to bed.

Jake lay awake, his head resting on his ruck. His mind whirled with so many details. At dawn, they were leaving with Reza to ride up the southern flank of the mountain, heading into harm’s way. Only one drone was on station for a fixed time. A drone could stay on station a helluva long time, but not forever. He was uncomfortable with the situation, but there was nothing he could do.

He worried about Morgan. She wasn’t herself. It was no wonder since she was still fighting through being shot and not dying as a result. Jake had seen fellow SEALs’ Kevlar vests take a hit for them, and it took days, usually weeks, to work out of the terror of nearly dying. Finally, Jake dropped off to sleep, feeling safer than he had in a long time, the drone giving him that space.

Morgan screamed, “Emma!
Emma!” The sound jerked her out of her sleep and upright. A sob broke from her lips as she automatically reached for her pistol.

“Morgan?”

Jake’s worried voice sheared through the darkness and her confusion. Still trapped within the insidious nightmare, vulnerable, she sobbed again, fingers wrapping around the pistol. As she started to raise it, she felt a man’s strong, firm fingers grasp her wrist.

Jake dropped to one knee, gently guiding her hand and the pistol downward, away from them. Morgan’s sobs tore at him. Dammit! She was reacting to the shooting. Oh, he’d cried, too, after getting shot. Jake had walked far, far away from the team compound, found a place to hide and sob out his fear of dying. No one had heard him. But now he heard those same raw sounds clawing out of Morgan’s throat and recognized them for what they were.

Easing the pistol out of her fingers, Jake whispered, “It’s all right, Morgan. I’m here. You’re okay….” And he unchambered the round in the pistol and set it aside where she couldn’t reach it.

Torn between the virulent nightmare and Jake’s hand on hers, Morgan gulped unsteadily. Her hair was mussed, strands sticking to her drawn cheeks, tears dampening her skin. “Emma…” The sound came out strangled. Taut.

“Come here, babe…” Jake sat down next to her, pulling her into his arms. He was alarmed at how badly Morgan was trembling. Was it a nightmare combined with reaction? And who was Emma?

Without a word, Morgan buried her face against his chest, her fingers in a fist against his shoulder. “Shhh, it’s all right, all right….” Jake kissed her hair, inhaling the clean scent among the strands. And then Morgan lifted her tear-stained face and looked him in the eyes.

“Talk to me,” Jake coaxed thickly, framing her face, digging into her marred, confused eyes. “What were you screaming about?”

Jake’s hands anchored Morgan, brought her back from the edge. She’d never been shot before; it shook her to her soul. Clinging to his glittering, dark eyes, she kept trying to speak. Kept trying to form the words. Only rasps, half cries, rose out of her constricted throat.

With a shaking hand, Jake pushed the hair away from her face, his palm wet with her tears. “Hold on, Morgan. Hold on.” The wild look in her eyes scared him. Jake had never seen Morgan like this. “Dammit, focus!”

His order slammed into her roiling, destabilized emotional state. Blinking, Morgan took a deep, ragged breath. Her nightmare was of Emma being abducted by terrorists. Of her husband being killed by the Khogani. Oh, God. Oh, God…Mark…Mark was never coming back.

Jake’s hands pressed more firmly against her jaw, his gaze riveted to hers. Literally, she could feel him willing her back from a place she’d never been before, and it had rocked her soul. He kept repeating the word “focus” to her. She listened to Jake’s deep voice, his tone moving through her, giving her purchase. Morgan struggled out of the violent netherworld.

Finally, she closed her eyes, felt herself coming back together. Coming…home…to Jake. He must have sensed her grit, her inner strength returning, because he whispered her name and hauled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him.

Her fingers moved unsurely across his chest toward his broad, capable shoulder. Morgan could hear his slow thudding heart beneath her ear, the calm rise and fall of his powerful chest. It was almost like being rocked and held like a frightened child in his arms. Eventually, she calmed down. Morgan didn’t know how long Jake held her, but at some point, he’d stopped breathing unevenly and so did she.

Opening her eyes, she surrendered to Jake. He was presently strong where she was weak. He was holding her and slowly rocked her in his arms. “This has never happened to me before,” she managed in a strained voice.

“Morgan, you’ve got to walk through that hell of being almost killed. We all go through it. I’m glad I’m here to help.”

She flattened her hand against his chest. “So am I….”

“What was the nightmare about?” Jake continued to move his hand slowly up and down her spine. He knew her body intimately, a burning, memorized map written across his heart and mind. Now he was wanting to learn about what drove her, what frightened her so badly. Morgan didn’t scare easily.

Sure, every SEAL was afraid. You just didn’t let the fear control you. And you did your job, regardless, because your team was counting on you. Jake pressed a kiss to her hair, feeling its silkiness and strength. Morgan knew fear. But she’d never let it stop her before. She sure as hell hadn’t let it stop her from taking down three bad guys last night.

Choking, a lump forming in her throat, Morgan pressed her face more deeply against his shoulder, wanting to hide, needing his arms around her. “I— Jake, I married Lieutenant Mark Evans when I was twenty-four.”

Scowling, Jake knew the name. The SEAL community was small. “Mark?” he demanded, looking off into the darkness. “OIC of Echo platoon?”

“Yes.” Wearily, Morgan opened her hand and closed it against his taut, hard flesh. The T-shirt was damp, and she was sure it was from her tears. “I was assigned to his platoon as a linguist. We fell in love….”

Jake shut his eyes. He froze for a moment, letting the information sink into him. Why should he be surprised? He’d gotten married, hadn’t he? Releasing a painful sigh, Jake whispered, “I didn’t know him personally, Morgan, but his reputation was that of a solid officer.”

Barely nodding, Morgan squeezed her eyes shut, her voice turning hoarse. “We were married when he came out of deployment. And then…less than a year later when he should have remained stateside, they pulled him for a top secret mission and he came back over here.” The next words hurt so much, she could barely get them out. “Mark was a sniper, and he was sent in to hunt down a high-value target, Khogani. H-he took a shot, missed and then he was too close. Another soldier fired an RPG at his position, and it killed him.” She sobbed, absorbing his tightening arms, holding her even closer if that was possible.

Reeling with the information, Jake remembered the SEAL loss. And then he remembered Mark Evans. He’d been a Cornell graduate, intelligent, compassionate, and he’d had a fierce reputation for looking out for his men. Jake’s mind skipped over so much. He hadn’t heard of Mark marrying. Maybe it had all been top secret because of Operation Shadow Warriors? Morgan had never told him, either. By the time he’d met her the second go-around in Afghanistan, she’d been twenty-seven by then, a widow for two years. Had her wanting him really been wanting Mark back? It put a whole new perspective on their three days of frantic lovemaking in that Afghan village two years ago. Jake had no answer.

Shattering inwardly, Jake viewed that second time they’d come together in a whole new light. He’d lost Amanda and Joshua at twenty-four. Morgan had lost Mark near the same time. They were each still hurting from their loss. Had they crashed into one another, hurt, wounded animals seeking, what, sex? Yes. Something more? Protection? From the ugly world they lived in? Probably.

At that time, Morgan had needed his tenderness, but Jake had none to give, taking everything she’d given him, emptying himself, burying himself in Morgan to forget his terrible, heartrending losses. She had helped him heal from his grief even though she’d never realized it. Worse, he’d given her nothing in return like she had given him…

Jake drew in a serrated breath, feeling Morgan trust him. He held her full weight, aware of her shallow breath, content to remain in his arms. Resting his jaw against her temple, he said, “I’m so damn sorry, Morgan. Evans was a hell of a SEAL officer. One of the best in the teams. Did you have a child?” he wondered.

She shook her head, saying wearily, “No…no children…. We wanted them, but it didn’t happen.” Morgan felt Jake squeeze her gently, placing a kiss against her wet cheek. His tenderness was a salve to her broken heart. She’d never expected this from him, but now he was healing her.

In an effort to pull herself together, Morgan reluctantly eased out of his arms, clinging to his shadowed gaze. Jake’s face was tense, and she felt so many raw emotions swirling around him but it was impossible to sort out what, exactly, he was thinking right now. “I thought I could tough it out, but getting hit by this bullet changes my whole world.” Morgan lifted her hand to touch his hard face. He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her opened palm. The warmth of his lips, his breath flowing across her sensitized flesh, left her breathless once more.

“You aren’t running, Jake.”

“I stopped running two years ago. You just didn’t know it.”
I didn’t show you, either.
Jake placed her hand on his chest, holding her wounded gaze, her lower lip trembling. “I’m here for you, Morgan. I’ll
always
be here for you from now on. I have your back….”

Morgan moved close, her hands sliding over his shoulders, leaning up…up to kiss Jake. Something had changed between them. Something that drove her to connect with him on every level of herself. Her heart tore open, the scar from so many years ago dissolving. Her mouth curved hotly against his, greedy, wanting him.

A groan tore through Jake as he felt her sob, the sound captured between their clinging mouths. Her scent flowed through his starving soul, and he inhaled her deeply. Arms tightening, his mind unhinged, his fevered body responding hotly, he placed a steel grip on himself. Jake understood Morgan’s driving need to prove that life trumped death. Her palms flattened against his chest, and he felt her irregular, warm breath against his face. Oh, God, he wanted her so badly he could hardly control himself. Her mouth sent blistering waves of heat down through him. His erection was so damned swift and hard, he tensed.

Morgan sank against Jake, his mouth taking hers gently, not hard. In the past, it had been frantic, rough sex shared between them. He had always been in a hurry, and so had she. This time, it was completely different. Inwardly confused, Morgan was too shaken to figure it out. Her heart urged her to accept the pace, that things had changed between them. Maybe good changes; she didn’t know.

Jake’s mouth skimmed across her lips, memorizing her once more, and it sent a scalding heat shattering straight down to her burning womb. He captured her and eased her down beside him. His breath was irregular as he propped himself up on one elbow, looking deeply into her eyes.

“Is this what you want?” Jake demanded, his voice guttural with emotion. Because he sure as hell wanted her. But this had to be her decision this time, not his.

“I need you, Jake….”

The steel trap surrounding his heart began to melt. Jake dissolved beneath those pleading eyes and begging lips. “Let me undress you….” Her right shoulder looked like hell, and he knew the area was sore. Jake wanted to show her tenderness. It was what she needed right now. It was what he could give her.

Morgan had given so much to him two years ago when they were hurting over the loss of their families. She’d loved him with an incredible tenderness he never thought was possible. And it had been something new shared between them at that time. Now Jake wanted to show her he could be just as gentle, giving and loving to Morgan as she had once been with him.