Course of Action: Crossfire. Lindsay McKenna

nodded, moving the piece slowly around in his hand, fantasizing it was Cait’s skin he was grazing. “Yes, in the nineteenth century, Princess Ka’iulana of Hawaii loved it.” It had a spicy note to it and made Dan’s body hum with need.

      “I don’t think you forget anything,” she accused, nodding.

      “Not when it comes to you, Cait. No, not a thing.” Dan knew he was on dangerous ground because she seemed shaken by his sudden seriousness. He was rarely somber with Cait, always the jokester and prankster in her life instead. She suddenly lost her cheerfulness and sighed, the metal piece between her fingers.

      “W-when the Army sent two officers to my parents’ home...and then my mom called me later...” She blinked and touched her brow. “Dan, I was so afraid you’d died, too. I asked Mom about it, and she said she didn’t know. Only Ben was dead from what the officers said. I was so panicked about it, I called Joyce to ask if she’d been notified of your death...”

      Grimly, he reached out and captured her hand beneath the tray. “I’m too damned mean to die. I was born and raised in Texas, Cait. It takes a lot to kill someone like me.”

      He watched how she brightened, giving him a look of such longing it nearly broke him. It was then that Dan realized Cait needed to be held. Her mother had her father to console her. Cait had no one. But she had him, whether she realized it or not.

      “Hey,” he called gently, “do me a favor right now.”

      She frowned and fought tears that wanted to fall. “What?”

      Dan released her hand and gestured toward the curtains. “Close them? I want some privacy with you, Cait.” He knew he sounded in charge. Stern, almost, but Dan wasn’t going to ignore Cait’s needs any longer. He just couldn’t. It was eating at his soul, squeezing his heart until the level of pain was far worse than the constant, gnawing ache in his leg. She hesitated and Dan pleaded with her. “Please? The guys aren’t gonna say anything.”

      She slipped off the bed and pulled the long curtain around in a U-shape until they were completely enclosed. Cait wiped her eyes as she came over.

      Dan pushed the tray aside and it rolled on its own toward the end of his bed. He captured her hand. “Come here,” he ordered in a roughened tone, urging her to come and sit on the bed near his good hip. “Up on the bed here with me.”

      He wasn’t about to give Cait a chance to say no and he used his strength to get her to lift her hip and settle it on the left side of the bed. He held her confused gaze and opened his arms.

      “Remember when you were nineteen, and you’d been stood up by that boy? And I was home on leave? I found you out back on the beach crying your heart out. I sat down with you and pulled you into my arms.” He searched her moist green eyes, noting the tremble in her lower lip as the grief overwhelmed her once more. She gave a jerky nod of her head. “Good,” he soothed in a low tone. “Now come here. Let me hold you for a little while, Cait. I’ll just hold you...”

      She gave him a worried look, resisting. “Dan...your leg. If I move the wrong way it will cause you horrendous pain—”

      “Ask me if I care,” he said gruffly, gathering her slender form into his arms. Clenching his teeth, he felt pain shatter through his leg as she carefully eased forward, lying across him, her one hand against his upper chest, her head resting on his right shoulder. Nothing had ever felt so good to Dan. It was a dream come true even if he was going to pay for it with the agony the movement was costing him.

      “Okay, I’ll be careful.” Cait relaxed against him, nuzzling his broad, powerful shoulder. The green cotton fabric of his gown was rough against her skin, but she didn’t care. Nostrils flaring, she dragged in Dan’s scent—the perspiration caused by his almost constant pain, a clean soap smell and his own, unique masculine fragrance that woke up her lower body.

      “There,” he said roughly, pressing his jaw against her hair, “now relax. No one has held you since Ben died. Let me at least do that for you, Cait...”

      His growling words shattered her in an unexpected way, and she felt a sob jerk out of her as she pressed her face against the thick column of his neck, feeling his arms hold her more tightly, as if to somehow protect her from all the anguish that bubbled up at odd moments every day. Sometimes, she’d be helping a soldier with exercises when she’d suddenly burst into tears, embarrassed, having no explanation for them. With Dan, as the hot tears spilled down her cheeks, her fingers moving convulsively into the fabric across his chest, Cait felt no shame, no need to explain. Just...relief.

      Dan closed his eyes, feeling the sweet curves and hollows of Cait fitting against his hard body. With every sob, his leg ached painfully, but oddly, just having her in his arms, able to comfort her, took so much of that burning nerve pain away.

      Dan didn’t know what was going on except that Cait was healing to him in every possible way. Sliding his hand across her back, following the curve of her graceful spine, nothing had ever felt this good. He could feel her skin tighten beneath his fingertips, even with the barrier of her shirt between his fingers and her velvet flesh. She started to cry harder now as he caressed and fussed over her. He knew now that since Ben’s death, her parents hadn’t been able to support her. They were too deeply mired in their own shock and anguish to reach out and help Cait, too. But he could.

      Dan caressed her damp cheek, uttering soft, calming words to her, feeling the press of her small breasts against his chest. His erection stirred to life despite the nerve pain gnawing ferociously away in his thigh. Dan didn’t care. He’d crawl over cut glass for this woman, who had always held his heart in her slender, beautiful hands. Cait had helped soldiers to heal over the years. He wasn’t a healer, that was for sure, but Dan knew he could give Cait momentary shelter in his arms, a little TLC that she so desperately needed and deserved.

      Turning his face toward hers, Dan inhaled deeply, as if dragging life into his body. His heart suffused with quiet joy. Her hand had inched upward, near his collar bone, opening and closing as she wept and released so much withheld grief. Her body shook and he continued to minister to her, his heart pounding with need for her. Dreams did come true, Dan realized, feeling that his lower body was fully awake now. He felt guilty even thinking about sex with Cait when what she needed was this: his touch, his quiet words of comfort. His whole world upended in these fifteen minutes. It was Cait who was always taking care of others. She probably hadn’t ever thought of him holding her, silently loving her in his arms, and she surely didn’t know how much he wanted her on every damn level he could name.

      With trembling fingers, Cait tried to brush the tears off her cheek. Dan eased his hand downward and his large thumb dried the area with one stroke. Tiny sensations of fire radiated from where he’d caressed her. Cait wanted to stay in his arms, just to be held by him. She slowly extricated herself and sat up, giving him an apologetic look, trying to wipe her eyes dry.

      “You needed a good cry,” Dan said, his voice thick.

      She licked her lower lip, tasting the salt of tears across it. “It’s been a long time coming.” Cait reached out, finding his hand and squeezing it. “Thanks...you always seem to be there for me, Dan. Every time I get in trouble, there you are to pick up the pieces of me.” She tried to smile but failed and just gave him a tender look of gratefulness.

      “I do have a habit of doing that for you,” he agreed. Every time Cait broke up with her civilian boyfriends, he always seemed to be there, home on leave when it happened. Cait was right about picking up the pieces, but it was something Dan wanted to do for her. He always had ways of bringing a smile to her face, bringing laughter back into her life. During his thirty-day leaves, he, Ben and Cait would spend every day surfing on one of the many beaches on Oahu while she got over the worst of the breakup. Dan would leave, going back into deployment in Afghanistan, knowing that he would never have a chance for Cait’s hand.

      Until now. He felt terrible even thinking that way with Ben dead only one week. Dan told himself he should feel bad about thinking in those terms but, dammit, he yearned for Cait as if she were a lost piece of himself. He wondered just how much