Once he trusted himself to speak again, he asked, “And what about other injuries? Noticing anything new now that the adrenaline’s gone?”
“I’m sore, and I’m exhausted. We weren’t fed well. But I’m telling the truth. None of the injuries are life threatening. Lying about that could only hold you back later.”
“We’re not out of the woods—so to speak.”
“As far as I’m concerned this is a serious improvement.” She laughed softly.
He touched her cheek. Just her cheek, nothing anywhere near as intimate as that impulsive hug earlier or the thousands of other caresses they’d exchanged. She eased away self-consciously and tugged at her hair band. Shaking her hair free, she threaded her fingers through and swept it back again.
His hands ached with the need to do that for her. His body throbbed with an even greater need to settle her in his lap and hold her through the night.
A crackle in the distance had him on his feet in a low crouch before he’d even fully registered the sound. His hand went to his gun. More of that muscle memory from training taking over, sending his body on autopilot.
Do whatever it took to keep Stella alive. Never had his pararescue motto been so blazingly in the forefront of his mind. These things we do, that others may live.
The fat moon sent light streaming through the branches. The tall grasses and scrub brush rustled… A cheetah darted past. Stella went steely still, the best reaction. A shot could bring worse than a jungle cat already disappearing from sight.
Exhaling hard, she shrugged. “My nerves are a little ragged.”
“You’re incredibly composed considering all you’ve been through.” He offered her the opening to share more if she needed, to speak at her own pace rather than him asking.
She leaned back against the tree, shoulder to shoulder with him. “I’d damn well better be able to keep myself together.”
“You’re not a machine.” And neither was he. It took all his self-control not to pull her onto his lap and rub her back until she slept in his arms. “You’ve held your own the past few days and tonight. Remind me never to piss you off.”
“You already did,” she said wryly, before looking away. “I wondered if I would ever see you again. I wanted the chance to tell you… Well, doesn’t matter now.”
“What doesn’t matter?” he pressed. “We have all night.”
“It’s best we don’t go there, not now.” Her face closed up fast. “I had thought we could use this time to talk some things through, but I’m realizing this isn’t the time or the place to go into that after all. I just can’t afford to risk losing it. Not now. I have to focus everything on keeping myself together until we’re out of here.”
He pulled back, raising his hands. “Okay, okay.”
“I apologize,” she deflated. “I’m just on edge. I was really starting to lose hope back at the compound.”
He could see she was about to crumble now. She needed an outlet of some sort, comfort, but she wouldn’t want his comfort. So he opted for something she would accept. Humor.
“Sorry if we didn’t mobilize a major rescue operation quickly enough for you.”
A smile tugged the sides of her cracked lips. “I’m an ingrate, aren’t I?”
He passed her lip balm from his survival vest. “Olive branch?”
She touched her lips. “Are you saying I look like hell?”
“You look… alive.” That one word was everything.
Slowly, she took the lip balm from his hand and slicked it over her mouth. She put the cap back on with careful precision. “Alive is definitely a bonus today, one I wasn’t sure I would get.”
His eyes held on her mouth, the night and frenzy of what they’d been through gathering in his gut, making him thirsty for a taste of her.
He wanted to hold onto his sobriety coin right now so damn bad. “How did they capture you?”
Shadows chased through her green eyes, like clouds over the midnight moon. “I got careless.”
“I know you. You’re never careless. I’m the impulsive one.”
She shook her head. “It’s my fault two people died. I should have done something.”