Running Fire. Lindsay McKenna

SAW A SMALL penlight on as he approached the cave many hours later. He turned the corner and saw Leah sitting up, her gaze on him as he appeared around the wall of the cave. “How are you doing?” he asked quietly, coming over and shrugging out of the ruck.

      “Okay,” she murmured. “How’d it go out there today? Any luck?”

      He knelt down on one knee, setting the ruck up against the wall. “No luck. I had to find and build a new hide today. Took most of the day, and the Taliban was quiet in the area.” He gave her a glance, seeing that her eyes looked dull. “Are you in pain?”

      “A little,” Leah admitted, pointing to her arm in the sling.

      “I should have left you some pain pills,” he said with apology, opening his ruck. “Here—” he handed her the medication “—this will stop the pain but keep you clearheaded.”

      “Thanks,” she murmured, popping the pill in her mouth and drinking the last of the water in the fourth bottle.

      Leah didn’t want to admit she’d looked forward to Kell coming back to the cave. His skin gleamed with sweat and she could tell he’d been running. His trousers were filthy, probably from digging a hide into a rocky mountain slope. He tossed his boonie cap over on his sleeping bag. His hair was dusty, as well.

      He took off his H-gear, setting it next to the ruck. “Have you been up and about?”

      “I tried.” She pointed to her bandaged head. “Dizzy.”

      “Were you wanting to pitch forward?” he wondered, sitting down on the sleeping bag and unlacing his desert boots.

      “Yes. How did you know?”

      He smiled tiredly. “That’s a deep cut on your scalp. And I think you have a pretty good concussion. Probably a level-two variety. Most people get nausea and dizziness for two or three days after the incident.” He pulled off his boots and his dark green socks that were soaked with sweat. Rubbing his fingers across his aching feet, he said, “I’m taking a bath over there in that pool,” and pointed to it. “Need to get clean.”

      “I’ve been looking at that pool, too,” Leah said wistfully. She wrinkled her nose. “I’m filthy.”

      “Easy to get that way out here,” Kell agreed, standing. “I can carry you over there. Give you a sponge bath?” He entertained the thought of helping her undress. All day, off and on, he’d wondered what her body looked like beneath that sexless flight suit of hers. Kell knew he’d been out here way too long.

      “No, I think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. Maybe get cleaned up while you’re gone.” Her body reacted hotly to his suggestion, however. Leah found herself like a greedy little beggar, wanting any touch he’d bestow on her. What the hell was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she hide behind those elaborate walls she’d built up since her divorce?

      Grunting, Kell said, “I’ll get you a towel, a washcloth and some soap.”

      She watched him disappear into the cave where he had all his supplies hidden. Tomorrow, she wanted to get over there and explore his stash. Kell came back with the articles and set them near her. He had a towel draped over his shoulder.

      “Now, unless you want to see me buck naked, you might want to just lie down and face the other way?”

      “Right. No problem,” Leah muttered, embarrassed, turning over so that her back was toward the pool. Her heart was pulsing. Her desire to see him naked surprised the hell out of her. She was so drawn to his large hands—those fingers that were almost artist-like. And when Kell touched her...groaning softly to herself, Leah listened. And she wished, as she heard him walk into the pool, that she could turn around and appreciate him from a purely aesthetic standpoint.

      Kell felt incredibly clean. The water was freezing cold, dripping off the tops of the mountains that remained snowbound all year-round. He tucked a towel around his waist and walked into the other cave to retrieve a clean pair of cammie trousers and a desert-tan T-shirt. He wiped his hair dry as he reentered the cave. Leah was sitting up once again. “All clear.”

      She gulped, her gaze moving to his broad set of shoulders and his deep chest. The T-shirt stretched tautly across his upper body and it made her feel shaky inside. What was going on with her? Why was her body behaving like this? Kell looked almost boyish, that easy grin across his mouth, his gray eyes alight with mischief. The transformation was amazing. Breath-stealing. His hips were narrow, and those long legs of his... Leah felt helpless in a feminine kind of way. She’d had very few experiences with men. And they hadn’t been good ones. Did sexual libido build up after a while? Hell, she had no idea and she felt like an idiot of sorts. She could fly into the most dangerous of situations and not bat an eyelash. But let this Kentucky SEAL, with that loose, boneless walk of his, and that warm smile, walk into her life, and she was turning into a sexual puddle of sorts.

      “Hungry?”

      Oh, that was a pointed question with all kinds of innuendos, Leah thought. “Yes,” she managed, swallowing nervously.

      Kell pulled the towel across his shoulder and left for a moment, returning with two MREs in hand. Leah’s breath hitched as he knelt down on one knee near her right side. She could smell the Afghan lye soap on his flesh, his male scent that was sending her body into spasms of heat and hunger. Kell didn’t seem to be at all aware of his effect on her. He quickly opened the MRE, tore open the packets and put the plastic ware on the tray for her. Within a minute he had the main dish cooking in the heating bag.

      “There you go,” Kell murmured. “Spaghetti tonight.” He lifted his head. He was in such deep trouble. Leah’s eyes were huge, such a rich, dark green, and Kell saw gold within them. His gaze dropped to her lips, which parted as his eyes took them in. That’s all he needed right now, an erection stirring. Damn. He wanted to kiss Leah. Hell, Ballard had entertained the thought of feeling those lips beneath his mouth from the moment he’d seen her face, when he’d laid her down, unconscious, on this floor.

      Kell forced himself to get up and move. If he didn’t, he was going to be in such deep shit he’d never be able to dig himself out. She was an Army warrant and he was enlisted. He couldn’t go there even though his heart and body could give a damn less about military regs or the UCMJ.

      Feeling shaky, Leah watched Kell rise. He was at least six feet two inches tall. The breadth of his shoulders, the power of those ropy bicep muscles attested to his superb athletic condition. Mouth dry, she dropped her gaze to the food. Again, she felt heat sweeping up her neck and into her face.

      Flustered, she focused on eating. Kell was going to kiss her. She saw it so clearly in his eyes, that for a split second, she couldn’t breathe. What would it have been like to kiss this man? Leah wanted to find out, despite her past. Against her screaming brain and her memory, she wanted to kiss this SEAL! Worst of all, he was enlisted and she was a warrant. She knew better. Officers were to uphold the UCMJ, not disobey it.

      Kell sat down with his MRE, leaning against the cave wall. “When I left the cave complex this morning, I called the master chief first thing and gave him an update on your medical condition.” He glanced over at her. “He said a Major Hayden Grant was demanding you be airlifted out right now.” Kell saw her freeze. The flush in her cheeks drained instantly to white. Her mouth compressed, as if in pain. Leah looked like a deer caught in headlights, he supposed. Paralyzed. And then, Kell remembered she’d been screaming a name during the nightmare. The name Hayden. Scowling, Kell put it together, realizing it was probably the same man. But he wasn’t sure. He cleared his throat. “You okay, Leah? You look a little shaken.”

      Leah closed her eyes for a moment, wrestling with myriad emotions, mostly fear and, yeah, raw damned terror that was gutting through her right now. But Kell’s deep, drawling voice broke through the barriers that had suddenly imprisoned her. She put the packet aside, having absolutely no appetite. Looking over at him, she realized he was worried—for her. There was another emotion she felt him directing toward her: protectiveness. And she felt it surrounding her right now, invisible, but so very real