“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She didn’t reply but noted that his gaze dropped to linger on her breasts, the tips close to grazing his chest. The feral gleam in his eyes had nothing to do with the light spilling from the open door. Her breath hitched. Her hands rested on his arms, just above his elbows. Bewildered, she stared at him. After all the lies, the deception, how could she still want him?
Chemistry, she reminded herself. It’s strictly physical. But her body refused to listen to her mind. Her heart remained deaf to logic. Her breasts tingled under the intense focus of his eyes. Her heart quickened as anticipation exploded through her. His gaze roamed slowly back up to meet hers and she could not look away from him.
Her back met the wall without force. A shudder passed through her. Her breasts barely touched him but that slight contact jangled her nerves. She jerked her hands from him, flattened them on his chest, but she didn’t push. She stared, mesmerized, into his hungry eyes. The deep fiery glow in his eyes riveted her as he lowered his head.
Oh, God, was her only thought just before his lips touched hers. The contact was light, tentative—and electrifying. Before she realized her own intentions, her hands slid over his shoulders, linked behind his neck. He moved slightly and she was pinned, trapped between the wall and the hard length of him. On a deep groan, he changed angles and his mouth covered hers more firmly. Her lips parted in automatic acceptance and his tongue slid over hers.
Her heart lurched. Her arms tightened convulsively around him and her body responded to him without consent of her brain. The blood rushed from her head to her loins and throbbed.
He leaned into her. Cushioned against his chest, her nipples tingled and her breasts ached.
An incomprehensible but light-hearted shout, followed by a blur of movement in the window out the corner of her eye jerked her out of her sensual haze. She snatched her hands from him and tried to shove him away.
“Shhh,” he murmured huskily against her lips. “It’s okay.”
She twisted her head, evading his hungry mouth. His lips slid hot and moist along her jaw and down her neck. Her involuntary glance out the window stilled her heart and sobered her senses. She flattened her palms on his chest, braced her back on the wall, and shoved with every ounce of her meager strength.
“Damn it! Get the hell away from me!” she commanded on a harsh whisper, her gaze riveted out the window.
Damien jerked back and dropped his hands from her. “What is it?”
She gnawed on her lip and silently cursed the tears that gathered in her eyes. She blinked but the wretched tears only slid over her lashes.
“This place,” she hissed and shuddered in revulsion. She wrapped her arms around herself to stop the tremors and turned to stare blurrily out the window. Damien’s hands covered her shoulders, gentle and comforting but unwanted. She flinched.
“Don’t touch me,” she said brokenly. Even to her ears, the request resembled tearful begging.
He went still behind her. She felt the tension radiating from him. Finally his hands left her in a soft lingering caress to her elbow. When she sensed he no longer stood behind her, she ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening
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turned from the window. She was alone in the room, the door now closed. She curled into a tight ball on the cot, let the tears fall, and sobbed in miserable, aching silence.
* * * *
Shouts and pounding footsteps roused her abruptly from a fitful doze. Laurie blinked and bolted upright. Her feet hit the floor with jarring thuds. She lurched off the cot and ran to the window, ignoring minor aches and pains. In the bright morning sun, people with guns ran everywhere, shouting at each other. Laurie scanned what she could see and cringed at the window, trying desperately not to be seen as she anxiously peered between the bars.
Five old jeeps drove single file between buildings and tents. Whoops and shouts greeted the two military trucks that followed the jeeps. More people poured out of tents and flimsy wooden structures. Most scrambled toward the large building across from her window. Metal scraped metal in an ear-piercing shriek as two huge rolling doors were dragged open. People ran in empty-handed and came back carrying rifles and pistols. Loaded ammunition belts crossed their chests and circled their waists. Laurie’s heart beat in triple time as she took in the rushed, almost frantic spectacle.
Terrorists of both sexes scrambled with eager shouts into a ragged formation in the center of the compound. The General strode purposefully toward the assembled group and stepped up onto an overturned crate. He raised a hand for attention and the group fell into awed silence. He spoke loudly to his people, who appeared ensnared by his mere presence and his excited speech.