No Going Back. Karen Foley

feeling as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her. Then, realizing her mouth was hanging open, she snapped it shut and stepped out of the line to hurry after him, her oversize shoulder bag bouncing uncomfortably against her hip.

      “Major Rawlins,” she called as she caught up with him.

      He glanced over at her but did not slow down. “Yes?”

      “My understanding was that the USO would provide a civilian representative who would be my point of contact.” As he strode briskly along, Kate tried to simultaneously walk and fish through her bag for the paperwork she had received from the USO, but the task was nearly impossible given the pace he set. Maybe she’d misunderstood him. Maybe he was only her driver. Oh, God, please let him be the driver. She’d never felt so self-conscious or tongue-tied as she did with this guy, evidence that she’d gone too long without male contact. Or at least, gorgeous male contact.

      “You understood wrong, ma’am,” he said smoothly, never breaking stride.

      Abandoning the search for her papers, Kate concentrated instead on keeping up with him. Arriving at the front of the long line, she saw several military police scanning everyone’s identification cards. Flashing his own ID, Major Rawlins stepped into the front of the line and looked expectantly at Kate.

      “You should have been assigned a temporary identification card when you arrived at the processing center in Kuwait,” he explained carefully. “Do you have it with you?”

      “What? Oh, yes!” Setting her bag down on the table, Kate began rummaging through it. She’d purchased a bright orange lanyard for the card, specifically so she could locate it in a hurry, but with everything else she’d managed to stuff into the large tote, she couldn’t locate the identification.

      “Sorry,” she mumbled, uncomfortably aware of Major Rawlins’s growing irritation. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”

      Pulling out two paperback novels, an MP3 player and a bag of trail mix, she set them on the table and continued digging through the contents of the bag. Behind her, she heard several soldiers mutter something under their breath and knew she was holding up the line. She glanced at the military police officer who watched her impassively with his arms crossed over his chest.

      “Sorry,” she muttered again.

      “Here, let me help you,” Major Rawlins offered.

      Kate thought she saw the hint of a dimple in one lean cheek, and before she could protest, he took her bag and upended it, spilling the contents onto the table. Ignoring Kate’s gasp, he swept one finger through the assorted flotsam and came up with the ID card attached to the orange lanyard. Yanking the card from the holder, he handed it to the military police officer.

      “You see? That wasn’t so difficult,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. Accepting the ID card back from the officer, he returned it to Kate. “Wear this where it’s visible. Follow me, please.”

      Dropping the lanyard over her head, Kate watched with rising annoyance as he made his way back toward the flight line. With one hand, she swept her personal items back into her shoulder bag and determinedly followed Major Rawlins.

      “Find your gear and let’s go,” he said, nodding toward the three enormous piles of duffel bags sitting on the tarmac.

      Kate glanced at his face to see if he was joking. With his sunglasses shielding his eyes, she couldn’t decipher his expression, but it seemed he had no intention of helping her. Glancing at the daunting piles, she drew in a deep breath.

      “Here, hold this,” she said, and pushed her shoulder bag into his hands. She sensed his surprise, but he made no objection, tucking the bag under his arm as he watched her.

      Kate had packed her belongings in a neon-pink duffel bag that had once belonged to Tenley, thinking it would be easy to spot. But she’d been wrong. Circling each of the piles, she couldn’t see any sign of pink peeking through the dozens of army-green duffel bags, which meant her own was probably buried somewhere near the bottom. She prepared to grab the handles of the nearest duffel when a masculine voice interrupted her.

      “Ma’am, are you looking for a particular bag?”

      Turning, she saw two young soldiers walking toward her. Just moments earlier, they had been lounging against their own piles of gear, chatting idly.

      Kate nodded. “Yes. I have a bright pink duffel bag, but I can’t see it anywhere.”

      The second soldier, who looked to be no older than Tenley, grinned. “No problem, ma’am, we can find it for you.” Turning, he whistled through his teeth to a group of soldiers gathered near the entrance to the hangar and motioned them over. “Hey, guys, give us a hand over here!”

      Within minutes, there were a dozen young men enthusiastically digging their way through the piles of luggage, calling out names as they identified a tag or lettering painted on the outside of the bag. Kate stepped back to watch, amazed by their enthusiasm and efficiency. In less than five minutes, the first soldier held Kate’s bag up in triumph.

      “Is this it?” he asked.

      Kate came forward and took the duffel from him. “That’s the one,” she said with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much!”

      “My pleasure, ma’am.”

      Clutching the heavy bag, Kate turned back to Major Rawlins, who stood to one side with his arms crossed over his impressive chest, her tote dangling from one hand. She wasn’t certain, but Kate thought she detected amusement on his face.

      “Well, that wasn’t so bad,” she remarked cheerfully.

      He raised an eyebrow and gave a noncommittal grunt. “Here, let’s trade,” he said, handing her the shoulder bag and taking the pink duffel from her. “I have a vehicle waiting out front.”

      Kate watched as he walked back toward the hangar, a tough-as-nails warrior carrying a pink duffel bag in his hand. She wanted to laugh at the incongruous sight, but seeing that none of the surrounding soldiers so much as cracked a smile in his direction, she suppressed her own amusement. Drawing herself up, she followed him once more. She was getting tired of seeing nothing but this man’s backside, no matter how delectable it might be. And she had to admit, he did have a fine ass. Frowning at her thoughts, she hefted her tote bag over her shoulder and followed him.

      “Major Rawlins, I’d like to get started right away,” she said, trying to match his long strides. “I understand that with the sheer number of entertainers who are coming over, the USO ran out of room to accommodate my client and her band. I’d like to see where Tenley will stay while she’s here. And do you know who will accompany me to the other bases?”

      He did stop then, so abruptly that Kate nearly plowed into him. Slowly, he removed his sunglasses and turned to face her. His gaze drifted over her and that muscle worked in his lean cheek. Kate felt herself go hot beneath his regard, and she wondered what was going through his head.

      “Just so that we’re clear,” he said carefully, “I am your single point of contact for whatever you require while you are here. We will travel together, eat together, view the venues together and basically be attached at the hip until you depart. This is a combat environment, Miss Fitzgerald, and I’m responsible for your well-being. You don’t do anything without me, or without my permission. Understood?”

      Kate stared at him, and for the first time since she’d made the decision to come to Afghanistan, realized the personal impact. The knowledge that she would spend the next three days in this man’s exclusive company caused a shiver to go through her, but whether it was one of dread or anticipation, she couldn’t tell.

      Major Rawlins was unlike any man she’d ever met before. He was testosterone personified, and the way he looked at her made her go a little boneless. For the first time she could recall, she wasn’t the one in control, the one calling the shots. That fact should have annoyed her. Instead, she found herself agreeing wholeheartedly to his conditions.

      “Yes.”