A Wicked Persuasion. Karen Foley

her. She was a grown woman, after all, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted him with her. “I don’t need your damned beeper, Chase. I want you.”

      Chase held up a finger and gave her a warning look. “Don’t. I’m barely holding it together here, Kate.”

      Before she could argue further, he pushed aside the flap and vanished into the night. Kate stood staring after him in disbelief for a full minute, expecting that he would reappear. But when an ear-splitting crack of thunder reverberated through the tent, Kate dashed back to her bunk and dragged the sleeping bag over her.

      With her back pressed against the headboard, she sat with the flashlight in her hands, directing the beam at the entrance, certain that someone—or something—was going to get her before the night was over. The shadows seemed to grow and move in the corners, and the combined cacophony of rocks and sand being flung against the sides of the tent, as well as the hard rain drumming against the roof, guaranteed that she wouldn’t get any sleep that night.

      She realized she still clutched Chase’s beeper in her hand, but nothing would induce her to press that button now. Not when he’d made it clear that he couldn’t be alone with her. He obviously was a man of honor, and there was no way she would ask him to compromise his principles for her.

      An ear-splitting crack of thunder directly overhead, followed by what sounded like an explosion very close by, made her jump with alarm. Drawing a deep breath, she pressed the beeper.

       9

      CHASE SAT JUST OUTSIDE the entrance of Kate’s tent, hugging his poncho around his body, not that it did any good. The sheeting rain found its way inside the protective gear, and his clothing was soaked. Charity had refused to leave him, so he’d let her curl up beneath his poncho, but even she was dripping wet.

      Beneath his feet, the ground was a swirling soup of red mud and rocks, and the wind caused the fabric of the tent to snap loudly. Reluctant to leave Kate alone, he had taken up watch for the night, just in case she needed him. The conditions were so bad that only the security vehicles were out, driving slowly through the flooded roads, their emergency lights cutting orange swaths through the wind and rain. Chase doubted there would be any chance of a mortar attack tonight, since the weather would drive even the insurgents for cover.

      His tent was only a five-minute jog away, but he didn’t want to risk anything happening to Kate in these conditions. The main power was still out, although the emergency lights were working. As he crouched by the entrance, a bolt of lightning lit up the sky, so close that he could feel the electricity in the air. The streak was followed immediately by a deafening crack of thunder, and a loud popping sound as the lightning struck a nearby transformer and caused it to explode, plunging the area into total darkness.

      Chase pushed himself to his feet just as the beeper in his pocket began to vibrate. Kate. Making his way through the entrance of the tent, he stood just inside and swept the interior with his flashlight, looking for her. He found her huddled on the nearest bunk, wrapped in her sleeping bag and clutching the flashlight that he had given to her earlier.

      “Are you okay?” he asked. He didn’t come any closer. Water streamed down the rubber coating of his rain gear in heavy rivulets and pooled on the floor.

      “How did you get here so quickly?” she asked. “I heard a noise, like an explosion, and it sounded pretty close.”

      “Yeah, the lightning took out a transformer just down the road.”

      In the indistinct light, he could see the speculation on her face as she considered him. “Were you standing outside my tent this whole time?”

      “Just doing my job,” he said evenly. “I meant what I said earlier—attached at the hip.”

      Oh, man, if only. His words conjured up images that he had no business thinking about. Shaking off the disturbing thoughts, he strove for a professional tone.

      “If you’re okay, then I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll be right outside if you need me.” He turned to go.

      “Wait!”

      Chase stopped and looked at her expectantly. Another bolt of lightning flashed outside the tent, followed by a loud boom. To his surprise, Kate stood up, letting the sleeping bag fall onto the mattress. Her flannel pajama bottoms rode low on her hips, exposing a pale strip of skin along her abdomen. He swallowed hard and watched her approach, half hopeful, half filled with dread.

      “As much as I appreciate you standing watch,” she said, stopping just beyond the puddle of water he was creating, “I wouldn’t put a dog out in these conditions.” She looked pointedly at Charity, who stood in the doorway with her head down, shivering. “Not even a guard dog.”

      Chase hoped the hood of his poncho, combined with the darkness, hid his expression, because he knew he was eating her alive with his eyes. She looked warm and feminine and he ached to slide his hands into the back of her loose pajama bottoms and cup her luscious rear. He wanted to bend her over his arm and shove her shirt up so that he could lick her breasts. He couldn’t remember when he’d had such a strong reaction to a woman, and he took a step back.

      Kate hugged her arms around her middle, her expression one of concern. “Why don’t you come in and dry off?”

      “No, thanks. I’ll just get wet again when I go back out.”

      “Look,” she said, and Chase knew she tried to sound casual, but the way she rubbed her palms over her thighs told him she was nervous. “I’m not asking you to sleep with me, okay? But I’d feel safer if you were inside the tent with me. And since you’re going to stand watch anyway, doesn’t it make more sense to come in out of the rain?” She indicated a folding chair in the corner. “You can just as easily sit inside the entrance as you can outside, right?”

      Chase rubbed a hand over his face. She’d never know how tempting her words were, but he had to admit that everything she said made sense. But he hadn’t completely lost it. He still had a small vestige of brain cells left that functioned, warning him to retreat.

      “General order number one prohibits any service member from entering the sleeping quarters of the opposite sex,” he finally responded. “I shouldn’t come inside.”

      “Well, I’m not a service member,” she pointed out, “and surely allowances can be made for the fact that the weather is so terrible and all the power is out. You’d be able to do your job better if you were inside the tent. Besides, it’s not like anyone is going to come out here in this weather to check on me—or you.”

      Still, he hesitated.

      “Didn’t you tell me that your job is to ensure my safety while I’m here?” she pressed. “That you are my single point of contact for everything, and that I don’t do anything without you? If you refuse to do this, I will go to your commanding officer and tell him—”

      “Okay, okay,” Chase relented, interrupting her tirade. As threats went, hers was pretty ineffectual. As long as he kept Kate safe, his commanding officer had no interest in what he did or didn’t do with her. He just hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake. “I’ll bunk down inside the entrance, if you don’t mind.”

      KATE FELT SOMETHING uncurl inside her at his words. No, she didn’t mind in the least, and she stepped back to allow him to pass. Immediately, the space felt smaller, and she watched as he pulled the dripping poncho off. Beneath the rain gear, he wore a pair of camo pants and a T-shirt, and while she pretended to be absorbed in rearranging the sleeping bag on her cot, she observed him. He had set his flashlight down on the floor, and by the beam of light, she could see how his T-shirt molded itself to his contours. Charity shook herself briskly, and Chase laughed ruefully as she sprayed him with water.

      “Oh, the poor thing,” Kate said, and grabbed a towel from the nearby stack. Walking back toward Chase, she handed it to him. He blotted