One Man's War. Lindsay McKenna

Pete felt like a man bound for hell getting his first and only look at what heaven might have been like.

      “This is incredible, Pete. Wonderful!” Tess turned and threw her arms impulsively around his broad, powerful shoulders and gave him a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice off-key. “Thank you for your gifts.”

      The shocking touch of her body against his own made him dizzy. Automatically, Pete reached out to place his arms around Tess, but she was gone as quickly as she had embraced him. Her cheeks were flushed, the freckles across her cheeks darker, making her look even more desirable, if that were possible. Her red hair, straight by nature, was slightly curled and damp against her temples. Pete longed to touch her hair, just a strand of it, to see what it felt like. Would it be strong yet soft, like Tess?

      His mouth went dry, and his heart picked up in beat as he met, held and drowned in her gaze, now awash with tears. Tears?

      “Now,” he muttered gruffly, “don’t cry! I can’t stand it when a woman cries. It bothers the hell out of me.”

      Tess blinked them away and managed a sliver of a laugh. “They’re tears of happiness, Pete. Don’t tell me you don’t know what that feeling is, either.”

      Bashfully, he shrugged and turned away. If he kept staring down into Tess’s upturned face, he’d do something they’d both be sorry for later. The blinding urge to kiss her, to take her bodily and bury himself in her loving depths, nearly unstrung all his carefully made plans to woo Tess into his bed. Fighting to get a hold on his unraveling feelings, he felt Tess’s hand grip his arm.

      “Pete?”

      “I’m okay.”

      She smiled up at him. “And you keep saying you’re such a bastard.” A flood of incredible light and heat swept through Tess. “You foster such a bad-boy image, yet you turn around and do this. Pete, something’s not making sense here.”

      “It’s just a way of getting your attention, is all,” he muttered defensively, aware of her firm grip on his arm. Her touch was galvanizing, hot coals against his flesh. “Don’t read anything more into it than that.”

      “When a man courts a woman, he usually brings chocolates and flowers,” Tess teased and glanced at the box, “not medical supplies.” If she didn’t let go, Tess knew she’d want to keep touching him—to raise a hand to his implacable features, smoothing and softening them once again by taking away the tension that hung around his mouth and eyes. How easily touched he was. That was a happy discovery. He wasn’t half as bad as he tried to make people think. Releasing his arm, Tess whispered, “Well, whatever your intentions, you’ll be saving lives with these medical items whether you know it or not.”

      “And for that, you’ll have dinner with me tonight at the O club?” he pressed, taking advantage of her lowered guard. Never had he wanted anything more.

      With a laugh, Tess shook her head. “I can’t go tonight. One of the women is in labor, and I promised her I’d stay with her. It’s her first baby, and I want to be here for moral support as well as for medical purposes.” Tess touched the box. “Now, with the Mercurochrome, I can disinfect the baby’s navel. Do you know how many infants get infection right after they’re born because of lack of iodine?”

      Pete shook his head. But he saw the seriousness in Tess’s vulnerable eyes. “There’s more,” he said abruptly, hurt that she wouldn’t go with him to the O club.

      “More? Of what?”

      “Supplies. Come on, they’re in the jeep. They’re too bulky to carry all at once.” He turned on his heel, trying to salvage his hurt pride. A part of him understood Tess’s reason for staying at Le My. There was a mother having a baby—and he was sure the baby was wanted and wouldn’t be given away to some stranger as he’d been. He saw something commendable in Tess’s decision to stay, but the selfish part of him wanted her regardless of the situation, and that was the part he wrestled with as he walked back to the jeep.

      Tess quickly caught up with Pete. “I can’t believe this! What other things did you bring?”

      “Oh, just odds and ends I found.”

      At the jeep, Tess halted, her mouth dropping open. There were ten half sheets of plywood in the back of the vehicle. In another cardboard box were six colorful comforters, in quiltlike patterns. The third box contained six marine-issue green Snoopy blankets, in camouflage jungle green-and-brown, a blend of nylon quilted with an inner layer of polyester down. Tess was speechless.

      Pete felt an incredible tidal wave of pleasure sweep through him as he saw the effects his gifts had on Tess. She was like a child at Christmas. He patted the plywood.

      “After looking at your hut, which is more like a sieve than a house, I figured plywood walls would be best.” He pointed to the box of comforters. “And all you had to lie on are those lousy grass mats. You’re sleeping on a dirt floor, for all intents and purposes. At least now you’ll be able to have some padding under you and a blanket to throw on top of you when it gets chilly in the early morning hours.”

      Pete’s thoughtfulness overwhelmed Tess, and she fought back tears of gratitude. Some of the harshness had left his features, and she saw a little boy standing in front of her, wanting so badly to please his mother, wanting so badly to be held and loved for what he’d gotten her. All of these realizations cascaded through Tess: how much Pete needed to be held and loved, to be told he was worthwhile and needed. The only way he knew to get approval was to buy someone with gifts.

      Sadness moved through Tess as she gently touched the comforters and then the blankets. “You are,” she whispered unsteadily, on the verge of tears, “an angel of mercy, Pete Mallory.” And without thinking, she put her arms around his neck, drew him close and simply held him. She buried her head next to his jaw. “Thank you,” she whispered.

      A shattering sensation broke around Pete’s heart as Tess went slowly into his arms. This time she didn’t move away. This time, her loving body filled with a strength he craved, she remained within his tightening embrace. Closing his eyes, Pete savored her length against him, as if she were a prayer that had finally been answered. A ragged sigh tore from him and his nostrils flared to take in her very feminine scent. It was a perfume far more dizzying and beautiful than the orchids that clung to the trees in the jungles.

      Just her simple act, an act of innocence, made him savor Tess as he had no other woman. Pete felt the rapid beat of her heart against his chest wall, the firmness of her small breasts. He was wildly aware of the shallow rise and fall of her breathing, and even more aware of how Tess fit beautifully—perfectly—against his tall frame.

      Tess slowly extricated herself from Pete’s tight embrace. Shocked by her own impulsive gesture, she touched her flaming cheek as she looked shyly up into his hooded eyes, smoldering with raw need of her. “I—I’m sorry...I don’t know what happened....”

      “I’m not sorry at all,” Pete rasped, his voice roughened with desire. Tess looked incredibly vulnerable right now, wide open for any attack he might make on her. But something stopped him from taking advantage of her—for now. She was shaken. So was he.

      The moment was broken when the shortwave radio in the jeep began to squawk. Cursing the bad timing, Pete picked it up and called in.

      Tess stepped away and crossed her arms, as if to hold herself together after the unexpected embrace. Disappointment washed through her: Pete was needed immediately back at base to fly an urgent mission.

      Apologetically, Pete put the radio on the seat of the jeep. He began to transfer the goods from the vehicle and Tess pitched in to help him. “Sorry I can’t stay, Tess.”

      “I am, too,” she admitted. They placed the sheets of plywood against the trunk of a rubber tree. In moments, the jeep was unloaded. Tess wiped her dusty hands against the thighs of her uniform. “Will it be dangerous, this mission?”

      Pete shrugged, not wanting to leave. The need to capture Tess’s provocative mouth was real, overriding.