Authors: Lindsay McKenna
Tasting the blood where her lips had been pressed hard against her teeth, Rachel nodded, her heart accelerating in beat. Voices! She strained, barely able to hear the North Koreans, marveling at Chase’s ability to detect them. Before Rachel could do anything, Chase pinned her savagely to the ground. Rachel gasped, her face shoved into the weeds, the air knocked from her lungs as he threw himself across her.
The fog swirled thinly, moving as a slight breeze came off the hillside. Chase kept Rachel beneath him, watching the enemy patrol barely four hundred feet away. Only the fog hid them, and the sun’s rays were rapidly dissipating the vapor. Chase clenched his teeth. His grip on Rachel tightened, signaling her to remain frozen.
Keeping his head pressed close to hers, Chase watched the patrol through narrowed eyes, barely breathing. In some distant corner of his mind, he was aware that their breathing had synchronized. The scout for the patrol halted, turning and looking directly at them. Chase went rigid, preparing himself to jerk Rachel up and run, if necessary.
Don’t let them see us…don’t…
The scout frowned and rubbed his eyes. A hundred crowded thoughts poured through Chase’s mind. He was aware of Rachel’s groan, realizing he was too heavy for her. Simultaneously a pulverizing realization that she meant more to him than anyone he’d ever known skimmed across his heightened senses. The scout craned his neck, zeroing in on them.
Rachel’s too young to die. So am I. God, don’t let them see us. Don’t…
The rest of his prayer was cut short as the scout shrugged and turned away, leading the patrol up and over the crest of the rocky summit.
The instant the patrol disappeared, Chase rolled off Rachel. She struggled to her knees. Worriedly he assessed her, unconsciously reaching out, smoothing the hair away from her face.
“Are you okay?” he demanded huskily, gripping her shoulders.
Dazed by the suddenness of Chase’s actions, Rachel nodded jerkily. Her fingers went to her cheek. She felt warm liquid smearing across her skin.
“Damn,” Chase muttered, drawing her hand away from her cheek. When he had thrown Rachel to the ground, she’d struck a twig, opening a long scratch that was now bleeding heavily. “Hold on,” he told her, digging into his back pocket, finding a cotton handkerchief.
Rachel found herself in Chase’s embrace, being held as if she were a small but dearly loved child. The adrenaline that had shot through her earlier was making her shaky. Rachel tried to hold the handkerchief in place, but it fell from her grasp.
“It’s all right,” Chase crooned, “I’ll take care of you.”
For once, it was easy to trust someone other than herself to do exactly that. Rachel lowered her gaze, unable to meet Chase’s burning blue eyes. He reminded her of a warrior, taut and prepared to do battle. This was another side to Chase Trayhern, the pilot who bravely challenged the enemy when necessary. His touch was exquisitely gentle as he wiped the blood from her face.
“Damn patrol almost got us,” he muttered, his head bent fractions of an inch from hers. “I’m sorry I had to throw you down. There wasn’t time to tell you….”
Rachel sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
Rachel’s gesture shattered Chase; he read it as a sign of renewed trust in him. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her, giving her a squeeze that communicated his care.
“This is getting worse,” she admitted hollowly, allowing Chase to embrace her. Right now, Rachel needed his care, her limbs feeling shaky and weak. “I—I was scared to death.”
Chuckling softly, Chase released her and studied the crest of the hill for a moment, making sure the patrol wasn’t going to return. “Angel Eyes, I was scared too.” Chase wanted to take back the words. He glanced down at her. Rachel’s forest-green eyes were wide with wonder.
Nervously Chase folded the handkerchief, making a square out of it, pressing it to her cheek to stop the bleeding. He hadn’t meant to let Rachel know his treasured name for her.
“Is that what you call all the women you date?” she joked lamely, warmed by the beautiful endearment.
Heat stole into Chase’s cheeks and he avoided her searching look. “No. Usually women don’t remind me of things like that,” he murmured, concentrating on keeping an even pressure on the injury. Stealing a glance at her, Chase bashfully admitted, “But I’ve never seen a lady with such beautiful green eyes in my life. When I became conscious after bailing out, I thought I was dead and was seeing my one and only angel before they sent me to hell. In my mind, I kept calling you Angel Eyes because your eyes calmed my fears.”
Touched beyond words, Rachel stared up at Chase. The tremble in his voice, the flush to his cheeks, told her everything. For once Chase Trayhern wasn’t flaunting his superior male ego. No, in those seconds, he was excruciatingly human and she longed to reach out, frame his face and kiss him.
“I’ve never been called such a beautiful name before.”
Chase’s gaze softened and he stared down at her. “I’ve never met such a beautiful or courageous woman before,” he rasped unsteadily. It would be so easy to press the advantage and kiss her. Chase remembered their last kiss, aching to do it again. He wanted to show Rachel the beauty of love between a man and a woman, to explore that passionate world together.
Rachel’s womanly instincts told her to move, to ease out of Chase’s seductive embrace that begged her to stay and kiss him again. His words fell like heated promises across her, as she reluctantly pulled away, sitting up opposite him.
Awkwardly Chase handed her the handkerchief. The moments strung gently together as he wrestled with proper words instead of the more natural ones that would convey his naked desire for Rachel. She was so pretty in those minutes. Her black hair framed her face in mild disarray, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were a soft green. His gaze fell to her mouth, and Chase groaned inwardly; he felt the turgid flow of blood, making him want her all over again.
“Come on,” he whispered gruffly, helping Rachel to her feet, “let’s get out of here.”
Nodding, Rachel fell into step behind Chase. The bleeding had halted, and she clenched the handkerchief in her hand. Chase increased the length of his stride until she was almost running across the rocky hillside in order to keep up with him. But her body was becoming accustomed to the hard physical demands, and she kept up the pace. Even as they crossed the treacherous, enemy-infested valley, Rachel couldn’t erase the feeling of being in Chase’s arms.
“Let’s take a breather,” Chase told her, finding a grove of trees and using the thick trunks as cover against possible enemy patrols. He sat down, his back against the rough bark. Rachel sat two trees away, keeping her distance. Looking at his watch, Chase realized it was nearly two o’clock.
“We’ve been moving fast,” he commented.
With a grimace, Rachel gently rubbed her calves, working the knots out of them. “Don’t I know it.”
Managing a sour grin, Chase agreed. “We’ve probably made twelve miles already today. That’s good.”
“That’s killing.” Rachel managed a returning smile, thinking how handsome Chase looked. His face glistened with sweat, emphasizing the strong lines of his features, bringing out the intense blues of his narrowed, keenly intelligent eyes.
“We’ll rest a good half hour.” Chase wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve. “I’d give anything for some water.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t that be heavenly?” She dug out the can of food wrapped in the silk. “I’m starved.”
So was he, Chase discovered, pulling out the plastic box from his pocket. “Let’s eat now and keep up our strength.”
Hungrily Rachel agreed, using her fingers to scoop out the food. “We’ll be lucky not to get food poisoning.”
“Typical nurse, thinking of the medical ramifications,” Chase teased, thrusting his fingers into the rice dish.
Smiling, Rachel focused on the food, more hungry than she could ever recall. After finishing, she confided, “When I was a kid, I used to think wiping my fingers on my trousers when we were out camping was great.” She examined her fingers with distaste. “Now, I wish I had a stream to wash them in.”
In that moment, through Chase’s eyes, Rachel looked like a little girl. His smile deepened, and he straightened out one of his legs in her direction. “Wipe them on my flight suit, I don’t care.”
Laughter bubbled up within Rachel and she leaned forward, wiping her greasy fingers on his lower pant leg. “Don’t ever let it be said that you aren’t an officer and a gentleman under some
dire
circumstances, Captain. This calls for a medal of some sort.”
Her touch was evocative, fleeting. Chase yearned to have Rachel skim his entire body with those slender hands. Hooding his eyes so she couldn’t read his less than gentlemanly thoughts, he teased, “What? A greasy-fingers medal? Aren’t many of those given out, you know.”
Rachel had to put her hands over her lips to stifle a real laugh, her eyes dancing with merriment. The corners of Chase’s mouth pulled into a heartbreaking smile, the heat lancing through her like sweet summer rain. Every nuance of her body responded to his smile, leaving her breathless.
“How did a nice girl like you end up in a place like this?” Chase prodded.
Tipping her head back against the tree, Rachel studied him through her lashes. “After I graduated from nursing school, I wanted to make a difference, Chase.”
“You could have made the difference in a hospital stateside.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I’ve always lived a life of extremes. I never did anything halfway. My parents will tell you that from an early age, I was always putting myself into exploratory situations. I wasn’t content to play with my dolls in the living room. I had to have a tree house instead.”
“Your father must have thought you were a tomboy.”
“My parents never saw me that way. They accepted my curiosity as normal, and encouraged my exploration.”
“Unusual.”
“If it had been a boy doing the same thing, it wouldn’t have been seen as unusual, Chase. Everyone would have expected it.”
Nettled, Chase saw her point. “I guess…”
“It’s a good thing my parents allowed me to be all those things, because they’ve played a major part in our escape so far.”
Again he nodded. Still, her flagrant independence bothered him.
Rachel smiled to herself. She saw the bullish set of Chase’s mouth, realizing that he was fighting the truth about her. “Well, what about you? Were you raised like a typical boy?”
Chase nodded. “With my father being in the military, we got a pretty broad and interesting education early on.”
“You’re proud of your father, aren’t you?”
Chase smiled. “Yeah, I am. And I’m proud to be carrying on our family tradition.”
“Every son went into the service. Any daughters?”
Chase nodded. “They stayed home and made good wives while their men went off to war.”
Rachel winced and gave him a sour look.
Chase scowled. “Look, the military is no place for a woman.”
“Why not?”
Jabbing his finger down at the soil, Chase said, “Because you can get killed, that’s why. Besides, women can’t take the blood and horror.”
She sat up, her arms dangling over her knees. “Men can’t either, Chase.”
Frowning, he muttered, “I don’t believe it.”
“I see blood day in and day out.”
“You’re different.”
“No, I’m a woman. We’re far better equipped emotionally in my opinion, to handle the ups and downs of life.”
“War is more than ‘ups and downs,’ Rachel.”
“Is it? Your family has made a career of it.”
Eyes narrowing, Chase stared at her. “My family has not made a career of war. We believe in freedom and see ourselves as patriots willing to go to war if necessary to defend our way of life.”
Shaking her head, Rachel absently picked at a dry blade of grass between her legs. “Chase, every day I see young boys, eighteen and nineteen years old, come through our MASH unit shot up. I see the terror in their eyes. I wish I could take you on night rounds, listening to them screaming out in the middle of a nightmare.” She held his gaze. “War is no place for anyone. And men don’t handle it very well, either.”
“Look, women don’t understand these things.”
“What, war? I understand it just fine, Chase. In fact, as a nurse, I understand it far better than most people.”
“So, what’s your point?” She was smart and quick-witted, traits Chase admired in a man.
“My point is, war is a crime against
all
human beings.”
Rolling his eyes, he muttered, “Brother, are you in the wrong place, then.”
Her nostrils flared. “Chase, you’re acting like you have blinders on. Can’t you see what I’m saying?”
“No. Look, the Commies are trying to take over South Korea. We’ve got to stop them.”
“Do you realize we’re the only species that fights its own kind? When I sit out in the forest, I watch the animals and birds for hours. They never attack one another.”
“We’re fighting for freedom,” Chase said stubbornly. “Animals don’t have that to worry about.”
Rachel leaned back. “I guess I want peace over war,” she uttered wearily.
The tremble in her voice unstrung Chase. He reached over, gripping her knee, giving it a small squeeze and then releasing it. “I think that’s the difference between men and women. For myself, it’s exciting as hell to be staring an enemy pilot in the face, getting ready to do battle.”
A one-cornered smile tugged at Rachel’s mouth. “Fighting through a machine can be highly impersonal. The men on the ground in the trenches don’t have that protection. War becomes personal on the front. I honestly believe there are some men who are warriors by nature. But if you spent one day at my MASH unit, you’d discover how many men aren’t of that nature.”
Rising, Chase said, “Well, when we get out of this mess, you’ll be heading stateside, where you belong. Come on, let’s go.”
Rachel slowly stood, realizing the war hadn’t really touched Chase—yet. She hoped it never would. But until it did, he wouldn’t understand or see what she had experienced. Another even more insidious thought leaked through; something Rachel had been trying to ignore.