With a shudder, she recalled Mwana’s accusation of Westerners cutting and running when the going got tough. “There were children, some only a few months old—yes, unfortunately, I have a very soft spot for children.”
His gaze darkened. “I don’t begrudge you that, sweetheart. But I don’t deny I have issues with it.”
She licked her lips. “Yeah, well, I couldn’t just abandon them at the first sign of trouble, could I? They’d been orphaned and abandoned once in their lives. I couldn’t do it a second time, at least not until they’d been placed with responsible caregivers.” She still remembered the heart-rending cries of the older children who’d seen her being bundled into the back of Mwana’s armored truck. She’d probably remember it for a long time.
“Very noble, Tinkerbelle.” His tone had changed. Now deep anger rumbled through his voice and his face seemed set in stone. “But what about the people you left behind? Your family? Your husband? Did you spare a thought for me and how I would feel knowing your life was in danger?”
“Why would I? You didn’t want me or need me! They did.” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. Hadn’t meant to bare her soul, or let him see how his emotional desertion had rent her apart.
“And being needed was worth risking your life for?” he bit out tersely.
When your heart is breaking all over again, and the evidence is splashed out in full color spreads for the world to see, yes!
“I can’t believe you’re asking me that,” she ground out. “You were a Marine, Nick. You risked your life countless times to save others—some of those were children being sold into prostitution. And you think I should’ve walked away?”
“I was trained for it. You. Were. Not.”
He had her
there, but she refused to back down. “Screw that! I did my research when I got there. I asked Father Tom and a few government officials when we heard of the threatened unrest whether it was safe to remain, and I was told it was.”
His lips twisted. “Obviously, it wasn’t.”
“They’d been there longer than I had, and I trusted their judgment when they said it would most likely die down as it had many times before.”
“Only this time it didn’t,” he forced on her.
She surveyed the now-abandoned meal on the picnic blanket. “I don’t own a crystal ball, Nick. I didn’t know this time it wouldn’t.”
“But by remaining, you put yourself and those around you at unthinkable risk,” he condemned brutally.
Her head snapped up as renewed anger blew to the surface. “I did? Why do you keep coming back to that, as if I single-handedly, through some harebrained notion, risked my life and those of Father Tom, Hendrik and Edda?”
“Because I almost lost you!”
His face had paled, and his hand gripped his glass so tightly, she feared the it would crack under the pressure. But while in the past she would’ve placated him, she knew she needed to stand her ground.
“I don’t regret the decision to stay as long as I did. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I hadn’t stayed to make sure the children were at least moved to a safer place before the rebels turned up. And don’t glare at me—you would’ve done the same damn thing.” She shoved the food away and rose to her feet again in agitation.
“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place! You should’ve been at home where you belonged, with me!” He matched her action and stood, only with his height and breadth, especially in his incandescent anger, he towered over her, almost consumed her with his presence.
“So that’s what this is about? That I should have consulted the all-powerful, all-knowing you before I dared to leave the country?” she snarled, facing him off across the width of their twice-abandoned picnic.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it!” In a single stride he crossed over to her side and seized her by the arms.
“What if I hadn’t turned up? Have you stopped to think what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come when I did?” He gave her a small shake—a token, controlled outlet of the leashed anger that went along with the fierce emotion blazing from his eyes.
A shudder ripped through her and like a limp rag, the fight left her. “Every day, Nick. I’ve thought about it every single day since,” she admitted in a hoarse whisper.
Uttering a harsh Greek oath, he gathered her to him, his hands gentling. One hand cradled the back of her head against his shoulder as she broke down completely.
The cathartic release, which had been so long in coming, broke through with the force of a tidal wave, and her sobs shook both of them as they stood on the blanket, clutching each other desperately.
She wasn’t aware how long she wept, but when she finally stopped, it was because she didn’t have a single teardrop left to cry. Her sobs subsided into hiccups, but she just stayed where she was, clinging to the lifeline that was Nick, the soporific stroke of his hand down her back a balm to her ragged emotions.
He held her for a while longer, then, bending down, picked her up and walked to the edge of the pool. He lowered them into the pool and washed her face free of tears before letting the soothing waters work their magic to completely calm her.
After a few minutes, he took her by the hand, led her out of the water, and silently undressed her once more before making love to her with a gentle affirmation of life that brought fresh tears to her eyes.