Return of a Hero (11 page)

Tearing his mouth from hers, Morgan staggered back a step, surprised at his own ferocity and need. Laura swayed uncertainly in his arms, and he gripped her, staring down at her sultry blue eyes, flecked with fire. Her lips were pouty from the strength of his kiss, glistening and wanton in the aftermath. And when her lashes slowly lifted and her eyes met his, it was her soft smile that reached his heavily walled heart.

Laura held his unsure gaze, his gray eyes narrowed and stormy. She cradled his face between her hands. “Don’t say you’re sorry, because I’m not,” she murmured unsteadily. “This has been coming ever since we met….”

Morgan stared at her. “And you’re not sorry it happened,” he said wryly.

“No. No regrets, Morgan.” Making a supreme effort, she locked her knees so that she could stand upright. His kiss had shaken her deeply. Allowing her hands to leave his face, she gripped his upper arms. “But right now, more important things have to be addressed.”

With her hair mussed she looked wanton. Morgan got a grip on himself. The kiss had been explosive, melding them to each other. “There’s not much else left to be addressed,” he told her thickly.

Her eyes blazed with indignation. “Oh, yes, there is, Morgan.” She pulled out of his arms, noting the surprise on his face at her throaty response. “Come on, let’s sit down and talk.”

Chapter Six

“Y
ou know that Armstrong and his cronies framed you. So what are you going to do about it?” Laura asked. She sat down at the table, watching Morgan’s face closely. Her heart squeezed with fresh pain as she saw tears in his eyes for just a moment before he forced them away.

Sasha whined and came over, resting her massive head in Laura’s lap, as if to give her comfort. Absently she patted the dog.

“Morgan?”

He sat down heavily. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”

“You mean you were just going to disappear back to France after I got my sight back?” The idea of Morgan leaving her was unbearable. They were so close in so many ways—even if their bond was only a week old. Laura reached out and gripped his hand.

“I wasn’t going anywhere until I was sure you had your sight back,” he muttered, his voice low with feeling.

“Out of duty to me?” Laura guessed.

“At first it was. But getting to know you, I’ve stayed because I care about you, Laura. I’ll never regret that decision,” he said, giving her a sad smile.

“And if my sight returns, you’ll leave?” She held her breath, wanting him to say no. Wanting him to recognize that there was something good and positive between them as a man and woman that transcended duty.

Morgan looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold together his unraveling emotions. “I—” With a shake of his head he confessed, “I’m not sure what I was going to do, Laura.”

She leaned forward, sliding her hand into his. “Why?”

Her voice reminded him of a whisper of breeze through a meadow in summertime. “I know it hasn’t been long, but there’s something between us, something that’s been missing in my life for as long as I can remember.” He studied her long, slender fingers, wondering what it would be like to love her. “Maybe I’m tired of running and hiding. I don’t know. Being here with you has made me want to stay and explore what we have.” He scowled. “Or haven’t had….” A self-deprecating smile cut across his mouth. “My dreamer side wants to stay. My logic tells me that as soon as you can see, I should get the hell out of here and go back to France.”

Touched, Laura fought her own reactions. If Morgan saw the tears that wanted to spill from her eyes, he might misinterpret them. Gripping his hand, she murmured, “With or without my sight back, Morgan, I want you to stay.”

His eyebrows moving up, Morgan studied her parted lips—lips that had yielded so willingly to him earlier. “Why?”

“My first reaction is unselfish. You were framed by Armstrong and Young. If I were in your shoes, I’d fight back. No one has the right to keep you from your family and cheat you of so much that’s rightfully yours.” She lowered her voice. “My second reason is selfish. I—I want you to stay. We do have something special between us, and I think we deserve the chance to find out what it is.”

The sunlight spilled across the table, highlighting her mussed blond hair. Morgan saw the fire blazing in her wide azure eyes, the stubborn set of her chin and the thinning of those full lips. He gently traced her fingers. “You’re a scrappy little thing for being as small as you are,” he teased roughly. “And you’ve got a hell of a lot more backbone than I do, Laura.”

“Backbone? Oh, God, Morgan, you’ve endured seven years of hell! That’s real strength.”

“There’s no way to prove my innocence with the American people, Laura. Young will block me at every turn. It’s my word against the Pentagon’s if I go public.” He shook his head. “Think what it would do to my family if I suddenly reappeared. I can do nothing but continue to make them suffer because I can’t prove my innocence.”

Anger worked its way through Laura, and she released his hand and stood. “Morgan Trayhern, you’re talking like a loser now! How can you forsake your family and your country and slink back to France because of Young?”

She looked like a vengeful Valkyrie without armor. “Calm down, Laura. The reality of the situation is that I don’t have any other recourse.”

“Yes, you do, Morgan!” She stamped her foot. “I don’t believe this! As close as you seem to be to your family, you’re willing to forsake them without a fight!”

“The odds aren’t good,” Morgan parried. “If I walk back into my family’s life, the reporters will get wind of it.”

“So what? It’s just another battle, Morgan. And God knows, you’ve already been through some battles where you should have died. You didn’t.”

Morgan got up and walked over to her, bringing her against him. At first Laura resisted, and then, as he kissed her hair, she yielded to him. “My little warrioress,” he teased, inhaling her fragrance, absorbing her strength.

“Morgan, I’m not Don Quixote tilting at windmills,” she warned tightly. Pushing away far enough to look up at him, Laura held his warm gaze, which was filled with longing. The urge to reach up on tiptoe and kiss away the anguish in his compressed mouth nearly unstrung her. “You forget one thing. I’m an archives expert. I’ve spent years in the Pentagon file system. Maybe I can discover some unclassified documents, or at least get hold of someone who can help us.”

Leaning down, Morgan kissed the tip of her nose. “No one in the military is going to help us, Laura. It would cost him his next rank, or politically sandbag him so he’d have to retire.” He shook his head. “No, you won’t get any help.”

“Damn you!” Laura grated, gripping his upper arms. “Fight back! Fight for what’s rightfully yours!”

Stunned by her cry, Morgan stood in the ebbing silence, staring at her. Her eyes were filled with tears. He saw them streak down her flushed cheeks.

“If you’re really a Trayhern, you’ll fight back,” she whispered harshly. “Look at what your mother and father did to escape from North Korea. Did they sit down and cry because they were behind the lines? Did they give up because they were fifty miles from safety? No. And you have the gall to stand here and tell me there’s no hope for you, Morgan!” Laura wrenched out of his arms and took several steps away from him.

Smarting beneath her attack, Morgan stalked to the counter and leaned heavily against it. He glared out the window at the carefully kept garden in the backyard. “Dammit, Laura, you’re refusing to see how
much
is stacked against me!”

Her breath was rapid and shallow. “Only a coward would run from this,” Laura shot back.

Morgan spun around, his hands clenched. Eyes blazing, he advanced on her. “Coward?” he snarled into her face.

She held her ground, glaring back at him. “Yes, a
coward
!” she shouted.

“I ought to—”

“What? Strangle me?” Laura laughed sharply and jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “You’re running, Morgan. You’re admitting defeat before the battle is ever mounted and fought. You’ve made all the decisions for your mother and father,” she stormed. “And for Noah and Aly.” With an angry swipe of her hand, she dried the tears from her face. “And you’re making a decision for me, too! What if I want you to stay because I happen to like you? How dare you presume to make those decisions for us!”

Morgan blinked once, watching her turn and stalk off to the living room. The air crackled with her anger and hurt. Rubbing his jaw, burning beneath her salvos, he glared down at the carpet. What a little fighter she was. But a beautiful one. Cursing, he, too, stalked out of the kitchen.

Laura stood by the drapes, looking out the window. Her eyesight had returned completely during the heat of their argument. She teetered between the joy of seeing color and shape clearly once again and the anguish she felt for Morgan. The day was sunny and bright—everything she wasn’t right now. Torn between sharing her happy news with Morgan and remaining focused on their immediate problem, Laura dragged in a deep breath of air. Hearing him enter, she jerked her head in his direction. All her joy and desire to confide her happiness in him was smashed. She saw the agony in the slash of his mouth. Her anger evaporated as he walked over to where she stood. There was confusion in his features, and she yearned to reach out and comfort him, but she stood woodenly.

“Has anyone ever accused you of being a first-class hellion?” he demanded.

Lowering her gaze, Laura managed a strained laugh. “Yes. My parents.”

Morgan closed his eyes, trying to sort through his feelings. “I don’t know, Laura,” he whispered. “You crashed into my life, and everything’s been topsy-turvy ever since. I didn’t mean to seem to be making decisions for you and everyone else.”

Laura stopped herself from moving into his arms. “Why don’t you let your family decide if they want to enter the fray, Morgan?” She lifted her eyes to his. “And why don’t you ask me if I’m willing to help you in your fight to get back your good name?”

Morgan held her tear-filled eyes—blue eyes that were lustrous and gentle with understanding. “I-it’s been a long time since someone was on my side, Laura.”

“I know.” She reached out, finding his hand, holding it. “All you’ve known since 1970 has been loneliness and the burden of carrying all those memories by yourself. You don’t have to now. I’m sure your family would rather see you and help support you in this fight than see you leave for France.”

He glanced at her. “You’re my biggest fan.”

“I’ve been on the receiving end of your care, remember?” Her voice was hoarse with suppressed sobs. “Morgan, you’ve proved yourself to me by your actions. It’s easy for me to stand here and tell you that I’ll help you with every particle of my being. I believe in you.”

Lifting Laura’s hand, Morgan pressed a kiss to the back of it. Her flesh was firm and warm beneath his mouth. “Okay, little swan, you’ve convinced me I should try.”

Laura moved in front of him. “You’ve got to stay for yourself, Morgan, not because I want it.”

“I understand.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m going to test you on that right now.”

“What do you mean?” He saw her eyes fraught with fear, not understanding her challenge.

“This morning when I got up, I could see again, Morgan. I’ve got my sight back.”

Stunned, he stared at her for a long moment. Then he grinned. “Wonderful!” he murmured, crushing her against him.

Wanting to share his elation but still uncertain of the consequences of her admission, she allowed him to release her. Relief was etched in his eyes as he cupped her face, staring deeply into hers.

“You can see,” he said, his voice quavering.

“Y-yes.”

“God, that’s good news,” Morgan said fervently. If he hadn’t been mired in his own self-pity earlier, he thought, he would have noted the dancing highlights in her eyes this morning which hadn’t been there before. He sobered suddenly, noticing that Laura wasn’t smiling.

“Are you happy?”

She nodded. “Yes, in one way.”

“What are you talking about?”

Stepping away from his powerful presence, Laura held his gaze. “I’m no longer blind, Morgan. That frees you of any further obligation to me.” She licked her lips. “I don’t want you staying here because of what you might owe me. That wouldn’t be right. I wanted you to know I can see before you make a final decision on whether you leave for France or stay.”

“You’ve got a lot of courage,” he told her.

“I won’t lie to you, Morgan. God knows, you’ve been lied to enough.”

He walked over to the couch and sat down. Laura stood at the window, the sunlight caressing her small, proud form. He frowned. “Come here.”

Laura came and sat down. Morgan put his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. Resting her hand against his chest, she could feel the anvil beat of his heart. Weary from the exhilaration and fear of the past half hour, she closed her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder.

“First things first,” he told her. “I need to take you to Dr. Taggert and get a clean bill of health on your eyesight.”

“I forgot all about that,” Laura admitted.

Chuckling softly, Morgan said, “I figured. You’re really like the Trayherns in one way—you’ve got that bulldog tenacity. Once you bite into something, you won’t let go of it.”

“You’re worth fighting for,” Laura murmured, wanting nothing more than to be held.

“Yeah, you’ve proved that to me.” Morgan stared at the fireplace, deep in thought. “If Dr. Taggert says you’re fine, I think we should fly down to Florida to visit my parents.”

Joy raced through Laura. She lifted her head, drowning in his gray eyes. “Then you’re going to stay and fight it out?”

He grinned. “Do I have a choice, little swan?”

She smiled. “Not with me around, you don’t.”

“You’ve got my mother’s courage—I think my family is going to like you, Laura.”

“I already like their elder son. How could I not like them?”

He ran his fingers in an idle pattern on her shoulder and arm. “I don’t know which to do—call them or just show up on their doorstep.”