She understood the nature of his job kept him from having time to speak with her. Safety came first. Still, she wished for a chance to see him before she left. To thank him. To tell him to hell with her pride, she loved him and oh, how she hoped that her eyes were not deceiving her about what she thought she'd seen in his.
Her love returned tenfold.
And then there he was, marching toward her through the parting crowd. Her breath hitched somewhere between her chest and her throat. Late-day sun glinted off his helmet, fell to caress broad shoulders she'd once glided her hands across. Each steady footfall of his combat boots vibrated through the cracked cement and into her quivering belly.
He stopped in front of her without speaking, but he was there. He had come to her and for her gruff Spartan man, she read that for exactly what it was. A definite sign in her favor.
"Are you still angry with me, Colonel?"
Drew hitched his rifle on his shoulder, his gaze riding over her scarf before settling to stare straight into her eyes. ''Almost getting yourself blown up may have put things into perspective for me."
A sentiment she shared. Never, even if she became that ninety-year-old woman with only three days left to live, would she forget the blazing fear when Drew ran toward her and she knew there was nothing she could do to stop him from giving his life for hers. Certainly this big and honorable man would do the same for anyone, which made her love him all the more.
She dared inch closer without touching. "Do you think you could hold on to that perspective even if I stay out of trouble?"
He shadowed her with his looming size that moved so gently against her while making love. He did not answer, merely stared back at her with those beautiful blue eyes in his poster-handsome face. New creases marked his features, ones she sensed she had placed there when she wished only to bring him laugh lines. Smiles. Somewhere soft to escape from his hard world.
Slowly, a smile crinkled his eyes. Only a half a smile if it had been on anyone else's face, but she searched blue and saw the joy. Even a bit of mischief twinkled at odds with the rugged exterior. "How about we discuss it over dinner? I know this great place."
Hope bloomed like a flower that found water hidden in the cracked desert. "That wonderful restaurant you enjoy near D.C.?"
"Actually—" He tucked her daisy scarf more securely over her shoulder, his knuckles skimming along the sensitive skin of her neck. "I was thinking about this place I know near post. If you're ever in the mood for a trip to Columbus, Georgia."
Relief trickled down her spine along with a shiver of awareness from his subtle touch to her neck, a touch that promised more to come. She relaxed into the flirty smile she knew drove him crazy. "Hmm. I have never been to Columbus, Georgia. Is it near Atlanta? Because I sense a serious need for clothes in my future and I hear Atlanta is a shopping mecca."
"It's close enough." His hand slid up to graze her cheek.
"Excellent." She teased her scarf into place, not missing for a second the way his gaze followed her moves with hungry intent. And for the first time she let all her vulnerabilities show because this man was far more important than her pride. "Perhaps we could do this to celebrate your return? You will let me know when that is?"
"I'll call you from my layover in Germany."
I'll call you. Simple words, but an unshakable vow from a man who honored his promises even to a country full of people he'd never met.
She arched up on her toes, skimmed his mouth with hers. Briefly, but he would understand the wealth of commitment from her to express herself so blatantly in public. His hand splayed against her back, a welcome, bracing security for her shaky knees.
Yasmine eased her lips away, pressed her cheek to the wonderful abrasion of his beard-stubbled face and whispered in his ear, "You are going to marry me one day, Drew Cullen. You know that, don't you?"
His hand pressed deeper, firmer into her back. "Yeah, Sheba. I know."
Wind twined around them mingling the familiar scents of her homeland with the now-familiar scent of her future. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. She wanted Drew to hold a smiling image of her until they saw each other again.
She stepped back and found the tears tougher to combat than she had expected. "I will be waiting for you when you land."
"I'll be looking for you." Vibrant blue heated to total molten gray just before he winked. "And wear the rose-colored scarf. It's my favorite."
Her tears and smile were two parts of the same happiness. Yasmine backed toward her sisters for their return to America even though her journey was already complete. Because in this man's arms and honor, she had found the real meaning of freedom.
Jack watched the sun settle slowly into the sand and rocks of the Rubistanian horizon. Only ten more minutes until time to load up and leave, but he couldn't tear his eyes off the beauty in front of him.
His wife.
Fifty yards away, Monica stood with her back to him, a sister on either side as the three women linked arms and watched the sun sink. He didn't have to dig too deep to know they were saying their farewells to their mother.
The day unrolled in his mind. He could have lost Monica, a fact that still shook the ground under his feet. But that blast had also knocked some sense into him.
He loved her. Now and always. No holding back and wasting a minute more without her.
Two shadows slid past to bracket his. Colonel Cullen on one side, Blake Gardner on the other. Silently they stood together and waited for the women to finish finding what peace they could in the sunset. The last rays of the day melted mellow beams over Yasmine's modest black dress, Sydney's drab hostage-issue jumper, Monica's flight suit.