Garret shook his head.
“Garret, you need medical attention. You’ve been seriously injured.”
“I’m fine,” Garret said stubbornly, latching his gaze onto Suzanne. She smiled at him softly, and in that smile, he thought she might know what was going through his mind. He reached up and found her hand, then held it tight.
“It’s okay, Cagney,” she asserted. “I can take care of Garret.”
“You? You’re injured, too. No, you’re both going to the hospital.”
“A hotel?” Suzanne asked Garret. “With room service, of course.”
He smiled faintly and nodded.
“Damn it, Garret…” Cagney began.
“You heard the woman,” Garret said simply. “And you know you can’t win an argument with Suzanne.”
Cagney looked at both of them and shook his head. “I don’t know why I bother.”
“Because you care,” Suzanne told him, then flashed him a reassuring smile. “It’s all right now, Cagney. The damage is done, and now the healing begins. You did your part. Now go home to Marina. Aren’t you supposed to meet her parents soon?”
Cagney looked stricken, then clutched his black cowboy hat, mumbling about damn condos and damn cappuccino machines and what was wrong with coffee.
“Little brother,” Garret rumbled out, “thank you.”
Cagney stopped mumbling and looked at him squarely. “Call Mom, Garret. She really needs to hear from you.”
Garret hesitated for a moment, then slowly shook his head. Suzanne kept her hand in his, but her hazel eyes grew wary.
“I have to go to D.C.,” Garret whispered, his eyes never leaving Suzanne. “I have to tell them what happened in Sarajevo. I don’t know…” He hesitated, then shrugged weakly. “I don’t know what will happen.”
“Can’t you just call it in?” Suzanne asked, not quite able to keep the pleading out of her voice.
Garret shook his head. “I’m a SEAL. I have to do this.”
For one moment, Suzanne looked at Cagney as if somehow he could stop the madness. But looking at her beseeching eyes, Cagney could only shake his head. “Maybe you both ought to go to the hospital,” he repeated quietly.
Suzanne looked down and shook her head. Slowly, she caressed Garret’s hair once more. If she only ever got four nights in her life with him, she’d take them. She knew better than to be too greedy.
“Can you walk?” she asked Garret.
In answer, he grinned at her, and she felt her heart constrict in her chest all over again. “Sweetheart, I can practically dance.”
Cagney looked at them both in disgust. “At least get first aid,” he called out.
But Garret was getting to his feet with Suzanne’s help, and neither was paying any attention to him.
T
hey checked into the local hotel, without bags and looking like refugees. But Garret paid cash up front and spent so much time looking at Suzanne the hotel clerk never had his questioning eyebrow answered. Still not glancing toward the man, Garret accepted the key and led Suzanne upstairs.
The hotel wasn’t anything special, meant more for traveling salespeople and the like. The room was small and had that stale, stuffy smell of a hotel room. The beige carpet was worn in places, the furniture brown and nondescript. The bed, though, was soft and king-size with a rust-colored bedspread.
Garret sat down on it without preamble and drew Suzanne onto his lap. She went willingly, resting her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her close and with one hand began to slowly work the tangles from her long, silky hair.
“You smell like smoke,” he said at last.
She nodded against his borrowed shirt, moving carefully so she didn’t aggravate the host of minor burns that crisscrossed his torso. “So do you,” she said.
“We should shower.” But neither of them moved.
“Does…does it feel over?” Suzanne finally asked. She heard the weight of his answer in his silence. Then he sighed and rested his cheek against the top of her head.
“He was my friend,” he said simply. His hand stroked her cheek, resting lightly on the scratches. “I could tell you things about Sarajevo, Suzanne, and you would nod your head and look at me with understanding. But you wouldn’t understand, you
can’t
understand. There are some things you have to be there for. Things I guess only your other buddies ever really know.”
Suzanne thought about her mother dying in the hospital and nodded.
“Let’s shower,” she said, raising her head to look him in the eye. Maybe if they washed away all the smoke and soot, the past would be rinsed away, as well. Maybe he’d stop thinking of Zlatko and she’d stop thinking of her burned-out home, her ruined dolls. Maybe they could just think of each other and find some sanity there.
She rose and Garret followed her with dark eyes.
She undressed him slowly on the cold bathroom tiles, taking care not to pull his pink-tinged skin. He returned the favor just as slowly, his hands lingering on her scratched arms and tortured hands.
He looked at her intensely. “I would have killed him for this,” he said quietly, then drew her into the shower.
They both winced as the water hit raw flesh, then laughed at their own pain.
“We’re like two old people,” Suzanne said, leaning back to let the warm water rush through her hair. Garret’s eyes strayed over her creamy, voluptuous body and managed to arch an eyebrow. He unwrapped the tiny bar of soap with hands that were suddenly trembling, and swallowed against the tightness in his chest.
“May I?” he whispered hoarsely. She blushed slightly, then nodded as her mouth parted slightly in anticipation.
He soaped the front of her body leisurely, taking time with each curve and indent. He massaged her breasts, kneaded her belly and let his hand slide slowly between her legs. Her arms found his shoulders, and she leaned against him trustingly as he slowly melted her muscles and filled her with need.
“My turn,” she whispered. Her hands weren’t steady, and she dropped the bar of soap twice. But finally, she smoothed it down his hair-sprinkled chest, wincing at the myriad of burns from the popping flames. Garret didn’t say anything as she soaped his chest, massaged his arms. His eyes simply bore into hers, and from time to time, the muscle in his jaw would clench.
“You could have been killed,” she said softly, soaping the back of his neck. Her hands tangled in his singed hair and she pressed her slick, soapy body against his. His eyes drifted down to her lips, then met her gaze once more.
She rose on tiptoe at the open invitation, sliding her breasts up his chest, and kissed him. He opened his mouth for her, welcoming her tongue in warm, moist strokes. It was slow and tender and brought tears to her eyes.
At long last, she pulled back. “We should rinse off.”
He simply nodded.
They toweled dry with the same mixture of grimaces and grins, moving slowly but steadily. Suzanne could smell the fresh fragrance of soap and shampoo, and it did make her feel better. The fire was over, gone, done.
But Garret remained.
She knew what she wanted when she led him over to the bed. She knew what she needed as she let the towel slip away. Life didn’t come with promises, and Garret didn’t give guarantees, but she’d take him anyway for as long as she could.
His dark eyes raked over her naked body and she arched toward him shamelessly.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, but his hand was already reaching out to caress her breast. “You must be tired by now.”
She shook her head, arching her neck back and sighing as his rough fingers found her nipple. She flattened her open palm on his stomach, feeling the washboard ripples of the toned muscles. She traced her hand down and felt him contract the muscles tightly.
With a woman’s knowing smile, she found him. He growled low in his throat as she wrapped her hand around him. But his hips arched forward, hungry for her touch. She stroked him tightly, bringing beads of sweat to his upper lip.
Suddenly, fiercely, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back onto the bed. She fell willingly, watching with golden eyes as he followed her down, then claimed her mouth with his own. It was savage and sweet, needy and demanding. He thrust his tongue into her mouth with bold promise, plundering the depths, capturing her tongue.
Then he kissed the corners of her mouth with near tenderness, nipping at her chin, then journeying around to capture her earlobe. She gasped, her hands clutching his shoulders as the desire shot like sparks through her veins. Her hips arched up to press against his, her leg rubbing against his suggestively.
He rolled onto his side, supporting himself with his elbow while his other hand smoothed down her beautiful body. He traced her breast again, found the indent of her waist. He caressed her rounded belly, then slid one finger down to find her.
She parted her legs for him, staring into his eyes as he slipped into her. She gasped, her eyes so molten they threatened to burn, and his body became so hard he felt near pain. He leaned over and, with exquisite slowness, captured her breast with his mouth.
He sucked hard and she cried out, her hips arching, her throat contracting. For the first time, she recognized the primality of her own nature, the savage need that held her captive with the force of the emotion. She did not just want this man; she needed him. Needed him in her, filling her, completing her.
Her hand found his hard length once more and guided him toward her. At the last moment, gritting his teeth, he pulled away.
“No, sweetheart,” he groaned. “We can’t. Just let me do this.”
Her eyes widened with shock, and for one moment, the fire retreated as she looked at him with hurt confusion.
“I don’t have another condom,” he explained. “I can’t protect you.”
She shook her head, pulling him back over her. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Just once is okay.”
He refused to budge, the strain knotting his jaw. “We’re not teenagers,” he countered roughly.
She looked at him, entreaty in her eyes, feeling her heart constrict. With one hand, she cupped his cheek, and her eyes peered into his own with honest emotion. She wanted him inside her, without any barriers. She wanted to feel him explode inside her, pouring himself into her as man had been doing with woman since the beginning of time.
And maybe, just maybe, she wanted the consequences, as well. Would a baby be so bad? Maybe a tiny girl to hold on to long after Garret had left. Someone to love and to raise. She could teach her about dolls and roses and following her heart. She had so much to give. She wanted so much more…
“Please,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please Garret.”
He groaned, knowing he shouldn’t succumb, but unable to ignore the golden need of her eyes. He fought so hard for self-control, but it meant nothing around this woman. He shifted and she wrapped her legs around his waist while her lips curved into the saddest, sweetest smile.
She pulled him inside, and he arched his neck as he sank into her warm embrace. Her eyes closed, the first tear tickling the lashes.
He pulled back slightly, then plunged again, deep and needful. She held him close, biting her lower lip as the pressure built.
Please, give me something more.
He thrust again and again, his neck corded, his back arched. She clung to him, her body slick with sweat, her hair tangled and wet. Yes, just like that. Yes.
Just give me something more.
He came with a roar, his bowed body emptying into hers with the force of a hurricane. And she cried out her own release, wrapping her legs so tightly around him it nearly hurt. He was hers. This instant, this one instant, he was hers and she loved him.
He collapsed in her arms and she stroked his back with trembling arms. She did not let him go for a long time.
When she awoke in the morning, he wasn’t beside her. For a moment, she felt panic, then she spotted him sitting at the small round table by the window. He was naked still, his eyes peering out to some sight she couldn’t see. She watched him for several minutes before he noticed.
“Good morning,” he said. His voice sounded hoarse, and she imagined his throat hurt as much as hers did. She felt dehydrated and stiff. Slowly, she rose onto her elbows, the sheet sliding down slightly to balance precariously on her breasts.
“You’re awake early,” she said. He nodded, his gaze turning back the window.
“Did you say you’re insured?” he asked suddenly. Her brow crinkled warily, but she nodded. “Did Zlatko light the fire?”
“I don’t know,” she told him honestly. “Maybe the fire department will be able to find out more.”
“Will the insurance cover everything?”
Now she was worried. She sat all the way up, pulling at the sheet until she could wrap it under her arms.
“I think so,” she said at last. Then she couldn’t take the waiting anymore. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked flatly.
He hesitated, having the decency to at least look guilty, then he nodded. “I’ve been away for a long time, Suzanne. The navy has me listed as a deserter. I have to go back and deal with that.”
“And then?” she asked stiffly. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she hated the pain of its beating.
He couldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“Just that,” he said almost impatiently. “I don’t know what the navy will do when they find out how I handled Sarajevo. And I don’t know what I want them to do. For God’s sake, Suzanne, I’ve been a SEAL for fifteen years now.”
She looked at him, feeling guilty for wanting so much when he was going through such a difficult time. “Let me go with you,” she offered.
He shook his head. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why not, Garret?”
“It’s my business. I’ll handle it.”
“When isn’t it your business?” she snapped back fiercely. “You ran to my place alone. You went after Zlatko alone. And yet all of us were dragged into it. Your parents lost their home. I lost part of mine. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that you’re not the Lone Ranger?”