Behind Enemy Lines (7 page)

“I’ll keep it out of the tub.”

She nodded as he swung his feet to the floor.

“How do your legs feel?”

He grimaced up at her. “Like spaghetti. It’s damn annoying. Did the doc say how soon I can start working out again?”

“You mean like exercising?”

“Yes. Like exercising, you know, getting my strength back? Becoming mobile and self-sufficient?”

“Tom, you’ve got broken bones all over the place.”

“It’s been seven weeks. They must be repaired by now. Besides, I’ve had broken bones before. I feel healed.” And with that, he stood up.

Despite his brave pronouncement, there was a distinct wobble to his steps. Annie wedged her shoulder under his arm and steadied him as they walked slowly to the bathroom.

“That’s just great,” she griped. “You feel healed. You have no idea at all how hurt you were, do you?”

He stopped in his tracks and gazed down at her. His arm, which rested across her shoulders, abruptly tightened.

“I remember getting dragged through the jungle, slamming into tree after tree. I remember feeling each bone break, and I remember hoping the next tree would be the one that killed me. Believe me. I know exactly how bad I was hurt.”

Annie felt positively sick to her stomach. She’d never dreamed he’d actually been conscious through that horrible ordeal. Dear God.

They made their way into the bathroom in silence.

“Tell you what, Tom. How about if I have Dr. Clark come take a look at you? Let’s see what he says about how you’re doing before you embark on any aerobics programs, okay?”

“I don’t need a doctor.”

“I’ll blow your cover if you don’t see him.”

He gave her a deadly look. “I do not appreciate being blackmailed.”

If she’d learned one thing in eight years of working with macho males, it was never to back down. Even though the look he was giving her turned her gut to Jell-O, she glared right back at him.

“And I don’t appreciate seven weeks of my hard work caring for you going down the tubes because you’re too antsy to let yourself heal properly.”

He replied grudgingly. “Okay, okay. I’ll talk to the doc.”

“Thanks. Now, let me help you with your shirt.”

She eased the shirt off his shoulders, savoring the feel of his skin sliding under her fingertips. She guided the left sleeve over his cast and greedily devoured the sight of his back as the fabric fell away.

Despite the many times she’d seen his body, the sight of all that muscle never failed to impress her. And to see it moving, bending and twisting in all its supple grace, stole her breath clean away.

Then she noticed he was looking over his shoulder at her.

“Uh, the cuts on your back have healed up nicely. You can barely see the scars.”

He shrugged. “I never cared much about having a perfect body. Another scar or two doesn’t matter one way or the other.”

She refrained from mentioning that his body was as close to perfect as she’d ever seen. Instead she asked, “Speaking of scars, where did you get this one?” She touched a small round scar under his right shoulder blade with her fingertip.

He sucked in his breath, and she jerked her finger away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He turned to face her. In the tight confines of the bathroom, they were only inches apart. His voice was little more than a husky whisper. “You didn’t hurt me.”

She stared up at him, startled by the sudden intensity of his gaze. The attraction between them flared, hot and thick. Slowly, as if against his will, his arms came up and surrounded her, drawing her close.

Ohmigosh.
It was all she could do to keep her hands at her sides, not to lean into him, and most especially not to return his embrace.

“That’s an old gunshot wound,” he murmured. “A woman gave it to me.”

“A woman shot you?” Annie asked breathlessly.

“She led me into a trap, and her father’s men shot me.”

“That sounds horrible,” Annie whispered, her heart aching for all he’d suffered in his career. First a trap and a gunshot wound, and now multiple broken bones and a possibly career-ending injury. No wonder he didn’t like working with women.

His husky voice drew her back to the present. The very steamy present.

“I like it when you touch me, Annie. Do you like doing it?”

“Uhh,” she cleared her throat, “sure.”

“Good. Then here’s your first order. Do it some more.”

She replied nervously, “I don’t think that qualifies as a lawful order under the Uniform Code of…”

His finger stilled her lips. “Remember what I told you about following orders?” he murmured. “Don’t think about it. Just do it.”

Despite herself, she smiled. “Make it a request, not an order, and I just might.”

He smiled back, slow and smooth. “Touch me, please.”

Her hands settled on his lean waist. Pure, sexual pleasure shot through her. This was wrong. Really wrong. But did he ever feel good.

“You have me at a disadvantage, Annie. You’ve had your hands all over me already, but I don’t know the feel of you at all.”

His hands began to move, roaming gently over her back. His fingers kneaded the muscles along her spine, melting her will to stand up. Only the knowledge of his injuries kept her from sagging against him.

She mustered enough strength to murmur, “Your bath’s going to get cold.”

He drew her closer and spoke against her temple. “Sweet Annie, there’s always more hot water. Besides, I may be needing a cold soak, anyway.”

She buried her face against his shoulder. “We’ve got to stop this.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re in the middle of a mission and don’t need distractions, and we’ve got to work together.”

He sighed. “You’re right.” He set her away from him, but his hands lingered on her shoulders. “But holding you makes me feel alive.”

His hands slid down her arms, and with a final caress of her fingertips, fell away from her.

“Did you know there was a time in the hospital when I thought I had died?”

She shook her head in the negative.

“When I first saw you, I thought you were an angel, and I couldn’t figure out how I’d ended up in Heaven.”

“Me an angel? Not a chance.”

“To me you were one. Every time you came to me, you took away my pain. And you let me know I wasn’t alone. You have no idea how comforting that was.”

The extent of his suffering made her ache inside.

“I’m so sorry, Tom…”

“For what? It’s not your fault I got hurt.”

His words were a knife straight through her heart. Only the sink at the back of her thighs kept her from staggering at the blow.

“But—”

“Are you all right? Annie? You look a little pale.”

“It’s probably all the steam in here making me light-headed.”

“Why don’t you go into the other room? I can handle the rest of my bath, and I’ll give you a holler if I need anything.”

He guided her to the door, gave her a gentle push into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

She turned to face the wooden panel, leaning her forehead against it in misery.

She whispered, “But it is my fault, Tom.”

Chapter 5

O
n the other side of the door, Tom scowled at the bath supplies she’d left him. “Hey! Where’s some real soap, dammit?”

The sound of snickering drifted through the closed bathroom door. The minx. She’d left him with nothing but those girly soaps he hated. Ah, hell. Who cared if he smelled like vanilla orchid sachet?

He rested his head against the high back of the old-fashioned tub and let the water’s heat soak away his aches and pains. If only his mind would relax like his body. But his thoughts stubbornly continued to race.

You’re in trouble, buddy. One Annie O’Donnell has gotten way under your skin.

He had no business letting her get involved in his mission. It was dangerous to her, and moreover, it was dangerous to his men. Okay, so he did owe her a debt of gratitude. She’d taken care of him and given him a cover, and she’d put herself at risk to pull him out of the hospital. But his first responsibility was to his guys. What was he going to do with Annie?

He sure as heck knew what he’d like to do with her.

Guilt crept into his consciousness like the heat creeping into his bones. Here he was, relaxing in a hot bath with a beautiful woman waiting on him hand and foot, while his men were living on a razor’s edge, undercover, out of their element, and one mistake away from dying. He was their commander. He ought to be out there with them, leading by example. What were they going to think of him when they showed up here and saw his plush setup?

Showed up here…

He lurched upright, sloshing water over the side of the tub. “Annie,” he called urgently.

She answered instantly from the other side of the door. “Yes?”

“Could you come in here?”

She peered cautiously around the door frame. Skittish about seeing him naked, was she?

“I don’t bite, you know. Well, at least not so it hurts.” How did she manage to scowl and smile at the same time like that?

“What do you need?”

“I wanted to warn you. If any of my men show up while I’m still in here, let them in the apartment and come tell me, okay?”

“No problem.”

“The guys might get a little jumpy if you answer the door instead of me. I’d suggest you move slowly around them and keep your hands in plain sight at all times.”

Her eyes widened in alarm, but she nodded.

“I don’t know which of my men will get here first. Their nicknames are Tex, Doc, Dutch, Howdy and Mac. If somebody knocks on the door, ask them in English what their handle is. They should give you one of those.”

“Tex, Doc, Dutch, Howdy and Mac? Sounds like the seven dwarves. How did they come by those names?”

He grinned. “Remind me to tell you the stories some time when I’m good and drunk.”

She returned his smile warmly.

“By the way, while you’re here, would you mind washing my back?”

Her shoulders visibly tensed up, but she moved toward the tub. Reluctantly. He bit back a grin.

She seemed to relax when she saw the thick layer of suds covering the water.

“So what do you like? A good hard scrub or a gentle wash?”

“Today a scrub is in order. I feel like I haven’t had a real bath in months.”

Her voice was wry. “You haven’t. I was only able to give you sponge baths.”

A washcloth touched his back, and then moved in vigorous circles that were pure heaven. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. Eventually he gathered his wits enough to speak.

“Is there any chance you could shave me now? I don’t have a mirror, and with one hand,” he lifted his cast off the edge of the tub, “I’m a little awkward. I wouldn’t want to slit my throat after having survived everything else.”

He watched the way she moved as she sat down on the edge of the tub and dunked a washcloth in the water. Graceful. Quick as a deer. She wrung out the cloth and leaned over to press it against his beard. And then she looked up at him. The rich emerald color of her eyes was almost hidden behind the black of her pupils. Poor girl. She had the same effect on him, too.

The silky smoothness of her fingers spreading shaving cream over his face was too much for even his control. He shifted uncomfortably and accidentally bumped her chest with his arm. The springy flesh pressed against his biceps, a brain-scrambling sensation. His control shattered, and under the cover of the bath water, his body reacted violently.

He eyed the big old tub, calculating its volume. It would definitely hold both of them. He could already feel her naked body, soapy and slippery against his. He’d lower her down upon him, easing himself inside her heat. He’d thrust up into her—

Annie cleared her throat, and he blinked away the image. Thank goodness the water covered his reaction to her. She’d probably run screaming if she knew what lurked beneath those suds.

He noticed her hands trembled a little when she picked up the razor. Eyeing the quivering blade, he decided not to tease her about her agitated state.

Instead, he focused on her chest, watching it rise and fall in quick, short breaths under her damp T-shirt. As she carefully scraped his face, her fresh smell mingled with that of the scented bath water. It did nothing to ease his throbbing flesh.

She finished her task with the speed of long practice and wiped the last of the shaving cream from his face. She must have picked up on his discomfort because she jumped up immediately and began to fidget with his towel.

“Uh, is there anything else you need?” she asked.

He racked his brain but couldn’t come up with a single excuse to keep her with him any longer.

Reluctantly he answered, “No.”

She stood up to leave, and he savored the slender length of her legs.

“You might want to put on another shirt before my guys arrive.”

She looked down at the wet spot over her right breast, and so did he. The white cotton clung to her, revealing a wisp of lace and a lot of flesh. It left very little to the imagination and was sexy as hell.

She blushed fiery red and raced out of the bathroom.

You idiot.

He should have kept his mouth shut and enjoyed the view a little longer. She might be off-limits, but he wasn’t dead, yet. Then the thought of sharing that view with his team nixed any regrets.

He leaned back and willed his thoughts to the revolution at hand and to escaping St. George. Anything to calm his body down. He certainly couldn’t get out of the tub in this state.

Annie stopped in the middle of the bedroom, panting hard. Sexual vibes had been pouring off him like the steam from his bath. It had been all she could do not to plunge her hand into that water to see if he was reacting to her the same way she was reacting to him.

This was nuts. She had to get control of herself.

In the meantime she had to get out of her wet clothes. She stripped off her T-shirt and bra quickly, eyeing the closed bathroom door. With her luck Tom would pop out of there right now.

A naughty corner of her heart wished he’d do just that. She’d fling herself into his arms and they’d have wild sex in the bathtub, just like she’d been imagining while she shaved him.