FROM THE DOORWAY of his office, Chase watched Elena struggle to carry her duffel bags. Her slender shoulders bowed under their weight, and his hands clenched at his sides. Every instinct in his body demanded that he go down and help her. He’d seen the shadows under her eyes. She was exhausted, and he was largely to blame. She hadn’t gotten any sleep because of him.
Memories of the previous night rushed back, and he ran a hand across his eyes to dispel the erotic images. He’d known it would be a huge mistake to sleep with Elena, yet he’d been unable to resist. She was too tempting. Too feminine. Too entirely appealing.
But as much as he physically wanted her, he absolutely didn’t want her at Sharlana. The remote, mountainous region frequently came under attack from the Taliban, and current intelligence reports suggested another one could come at any time. The recent death of eight civilians at the hands of insurgents less than fifty miles away only served to emphasize the danger they were in.
What if he couldn’t keep her safe?
More than six months had passed since he’d witnessed the ambush on the supply convoy in Iraq, but he’d never forget how the gunner had abandoned his post to try and protect the female truck driver, and they’d both been shot by insurgents as a result. After the attack, Chase had made inquiries and learned that both soldiers would survive their injuries. He’d also learned that the two soldiers had been romantically involved.
The experience had only confirmed his belief that women had no place in combat. Most men of his acquaintance had been raised to believe that women were weaker and required protection. To expect those same men to let a woman fend for herself in combat was unrealistic. Better to keep the woman out of danger in the first place.
Just the thought of anything happening to Elena caused his chest to tighten and a sick sensation to unfurl in his stomach. He didn’t object to civilians working alongside the military, but he seriously objected to civilian women—especially Elena—being sent to remote bases like Sharlana. The conditions were too harsh. Even if he could ensure her safety, she wasn’t cut out for life on a forward operating base.
She was soft. Literally. Even now, he could recall the satiny texture of her skin, feel the lushness of her lips pressed against his. She wasn’t a woman who was accustomed to physical exertion; the demands he’d made on her last night had left her weak as a kitten. He couldn’t envision her lasting through an Afghan winter.
She’d been asleep when the alarm on his wristwatch had gone off, reminding him that he had less than forty minutes to change into his combat gear, grab his shit and make it to the airstrip. Not wanting to wake her up, he’d scrawled a brief note on the hotel stationery and had tucked it into her duffel bag for her to find later. He’d had just enough time to stop by the embassy and scan the most recent lists, where he’d been relieved to find her name among those scheduled to go to Camp Victory in Baghdad. Shangri-la, indeed. At the large military base, she’d have all the amenities of home, including fast-food restaurants, shopping opportunities and decent living quarters. Most importantly, she’d be well protected. He just hadn’t realized that her orders had been changed since that list had been printed.
When he’d first caught sight of her walking across the base at Sharlana, he’d been stunned. He’d thought of her more than he cared to admit—even to himself—since he’d left her bed. At first he’d believed he was imagining things; that he wanted her so much that his mind was playing tricks on him. His next reaction had been a fierce pleasure at seeing her again, followed immediately by anger. What the hell was she doing here? For a brief instant, he’d wondered if she’d somehow learned where he was headed and had managed to follow him. But according to Elena, she was at Sharlana on legitimate business as a contract administrator, although he intended to find out why her orders had been changed at the last minute. And the hell of it was, he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He was special ops; he and his men only used Sharlana as an operating base for covert forays across the border into Pakistan. He had no authority over Elena, and even his threats to have her sent back to the States didn’t carry any weight.
Only she didn’t know that.
As he watched her from the doorway, Corporal Cleary approached Elena. He glanced in Chase’s direction and almost defiantly reached out and took the duffel bags from Elena. Chase watched as Elena tried to argue with him, but Cleary shook his head and continued walking until Elena had no choice but to follow him.
Chase frowned, unfamiliar with the odd, clenching sensation in his chest. He wanted to be the one walking Elena to her new quarters. He wanted to be the guy who made life easier for her—but he wouldn’t be a hypocrite. He firmly believed that women had no place on a remote base like Sharlana. Their very presence created a distraction that could prove dangerous, both to themselves and the men who sought to protect them. He wasn’t unfeeling, and he’d do what he could to keep them safe, but he couldn’t afford to let his men lose their focus.
Elena and Corporal Cleary stopped in front of a hut at the far end of the housing area, about five doors from the unit where Chase himself was staying with his team. He groaned inwardly. Bad enough that they were on the same base, but knowing she was so close would be a distraction that he didn’t need. Chase blew out a hard breath. He had no clue how he’d stay focused, knowing Elena was just feet away.
ELENA OPENED THE DOOR of her living quarters and stared in dismay at the cramped interior. The space had been divided into eight tiny compartments, each one with a cot and a crudely constructed nightstand and shelf. Elena had expected austere living conditions, but she hadn’t been prepared for this. She’d thought Larry was exaggerating when he’d said she’d be sharing a B-hut with twenty other women. Just imagining his smug expression if he knew the truth was enough for her to square her shoulders and step determinedly inside. Sharing space with seven other women would be a piece of cake. She might prefer privacy, but she didn’t need it to survive. After all, she’d grown up with two sisters and a mother who had invented the word drama. This would be easy by comparison.
The farthest compartment was occupied by the older woman who had traveled with her on the helicopter, and Elena saw she was unpacking her duffel bags and attempting to make her little space homier. Only the tiny cubicle nearest the door was free of personal gear.
“Sergeant Corrente said we could take whichever compartments we wanted, and I didn’t want to be near the door,” the woman said in way of explanation. “I’m Sylvia Dobbs, by the way. I’m a quality inspector from the San Antonio DPA office. How about you?”
Elena dumped her duffel bags on the floor of the empty cubicle. “I’m Elena de la Vega, from the HQ office. I’ll be working at the contracting center.”
“It must be nice to actually know somebody here, and especially someone so handsome,” Sylvia said, smoothing a small, brightly colored throw blanket over her cot, but Elena didn’t miss the curiosity in the other woman’s voice.
Elena sat down on the bare mattress of the narrow bed, frowning at the unyielding surface. “I don’t really know him. At least not well. And I’m not so sure he’s all that happy to see me.” She didn’t want to talk about Chase. “How long did the sergeant say we had before dinner?”
“An hour or so. Enough time to unpack and maybe catch a quick nap.” Sylvia yawned hugely. “I’m wiped out, so I’m going to lay down for a little bit. The sergeant said to tell you that there’s a supply office in the warehouse at the end of the road. If you need anything you can get it there. Otherwise, he’ll come to get us for dinner, and then we have to attend a base-orientation class with the other folks who came in today.”
“Did he say how long that might take?”
“Maybe an hour. He said we’ll go over safety and security procedures, then we’ll take a quick tour of the base and see where we’ll be working while we’re here.”
“Who’s sleeping in the other beds?” Elena asked, noting the photos and stickers that the occupants had affixed to the plywood walls.
“Soldiers,” Sylvia said. “Female soldiers. With our luck they probably get up at the crack of dawn.”
Elena slanted Sylvia an amused look. “I’m sure we’re expected to get up at the crack of dawn, too. I was told we’ll be working twelve- and fourteen-hour days, seven days a week. There is no sleeping late.”
Sylvia stilled, then resumed smoothing the blankets on her bed. When she spoke, her voice was so quiet that Elena almost didn’t hear her. “I hope I didn’t make a huge mistake in coming here.”
“Why did you come here?”
The other woman turned toward Elena, and hesitated before speaking. “I just went through a nasty divorce. Unfortunately, my ex made out better in the settlement than I did.” She shrugged. “I needed a change of scenery, and the money was too good to pass up.”
Elena felt a pang of sympathy for her. “I’m sure that being here will take some getting used to, but you’ll be fine.”
She bounced experimentally on the bed, wincing at the unforgiving surface. Standing up, she examined the cot, seeing that she’d only been provided with a box spring, but no mattress. There was no way she could sleep on the bed without a mattress. She tried to see what Sylvia had on her bed, but the other woman had already covered the surface with her sleeping bag and the throw blanket. The other beds were also covered with sleeping bags, so it was difficult to determine if they had mattresses, or not.
“Maybe I’ll take a walk over to the supply office and let you get some sleep.” She looked doubtfully around the hut. “He didn’t say where the bathroom is located, did he?”
Sylvia grimaced. “Unfortunately, they only have open bay showers and latrines. They’re located in the last building on the right, so we passed it coming in.”
Elena pulled her baseball cap off and smoothed her hair back from her face. “God, I could use a shower. I feel so sticky. Maybe I’ll do that now.”
“Oh, Corrente said that they have a water shortage, so showers are limited to just five minutes, and only every other day.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope, I’m not. He said that one of the projects they’re working on is a well. If they can get the well operational, then we’ll have plenty of water, but right now it’s being rationed.”
Elena stood up, clapping her baseball cap back onto her head. “Great. I’m going over to the supply office. Is there anything you need?”
Sylvia shook her head and stretched out on her bed. “Just some sleep.”
Elena left the hut and headed in the direction Sylvia had indicated. Even this late in the afternoon, the heat was oppressive, stealing her breath and baking down on her shoulders. Two helicopters flew low over the base, the sound of their engines overpowering. Elena shielded her eyes to watch them pass, then immediately covered her face as eddies of dust swirled through the air, kicked up by the rotor blades. Swearing softly, she brushed the grit from her eyes and continued walking. She passed several groups of soldiers along the narrow street and although they stared at her with undisguised interest, they were polite enough in their greetings, addressing her with a nod and a curt “Ma’am.”
With her DPA uniform of black cargo pants and boots, tan shirt and matching baseball cap, Elena knew she resembled a park ranger more than she did a soldier. Even without the words DOD CIVILIAN emblazoned across her breast pocket, there was no chance that anyone could mistake her for being military. She certainly wasn’t the first civilian to arrive on the base, and yet she couldn’t help but feel conspicuous as she walked past the rows of housing. When she drew alongside the Tactical Operations Center where Chase had dressed her down, she couldn’t prevent a swift, sideways glance at the windows.
Was he still inside? A part of her wanted to go to him and try to apologize for their earlier altercation. She didn’t like being at odds with him, not after what they’d shared. But then she remembered his scathing words, insinuating that she didn’t have what it took to live on the base. Tipping her chin up, she strode past the office, her back rigid. She’d show him exactly what she was made of. She might not be a man, and she wasn’t military, but she could certainly deal with the conditions here at Sharlana as well as any soldier, female or otherwise.
She stopped in front of a large hangar with a sign out front that read S-4 Supply. Opening the door, she found herself in a cool, dark warehouse with row after row of shelving that reached to the ceiling. Large bins were stacked along the walls, and hundreds of boxes marked with stenciled stock numbers rested on the shelves. Elena could hear the low murmur of masculine voices from the rear of the hangar and cautiously made her way toward them.
A small office had been built in a corner of the warehouse, and through the pass-through window, Elena saw a female soldier sitting at a desk doing paperwork. Seeing Elena, she stood up and leaned through the window, smiling in a friendly way.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
Elena approached the window. “I hope so—” she broke off to glance at the front of the woman’s uniform “—Specialist Ostergard. I was told to come here if I needed any supplies.”
“That’s right. What do you need?”
“Well, a mattress for starters. And bed linens. I just arrived today.”
SPC Ostergard’s expression was one of surprise. “You don’t have a mattress on your cot?”
“There’s a box spring, but no mattress. And no sheets or blankets.”
The woman looked quickly away, but Elena could have sworn she was suppressing a smirk. “Ma’am, you do have a mattress.”
Elena smiled sweetly back at her. “No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. What you’re calling a box spring is actually the mattress.”
Elena stared at her in disbelief. “But it’s as hard as a rock, and only about four inches thick. How can you call that a mattress?”
“It’s standard military issue to every person on this base, ma’am. Maybe you could ask a family member to mail you a foam pad or a mattress topper. That’s what most of us do.”
Elena blew out an exasperated breath. “Well, what about sheets and blankets?”
“We don’t supply those. Everyone just uses their sleeping bag. I’m sorry, that information should have been made clear to you during basic contingency ops training.”
Elena digested this, acknowledging silently that she might have missed that bit of information during the stateside orientation. But before she could reply, a voice spoke from behind her.
“What’s the problem, Ms. De la Vega? Your living quarters not up to your usual standards?”
Elena whirled around to see Chase and two other soldiers standing several feet away. Chase held a clipboard in one hand, and the soldiers were each pushing a hand truck loaded with supplies they had pulled from the nearby shelves. Elena realized it must have been their voices she’d heard when she’d first entered the hangar. How much of her conversation had Chase overheard? She’d die before she let him know that she’d mistaken her mattress for a box spring, or that she’d actually requested sheets and blankets.
“No,” she assured him with a smile. “My living quarters are great. I was just, um, becoming familiar with the base and thought I would check out the supply office.”
“Uh-huh.” Both his tone and his expression told Elena he wasn’t buying her story.
“Actually,” she said quickly, “I was wondering where I might get some soap and shampoo. I left mine back at the hotel in Kuwait.”
From the expression on Chase’s face, Elena knew he was remembering the previous night. She doubted he had woken up with sore muscles as a result of their nocturnal activities. He was in perfect condition. And what did she really know about him, after all? He might be well accustomed to having one-night stands with complete strangers. The thought darkened her mood, and she found it difficult to maintain her smile as she envisioned him in bed with other women.
Chase turned to the soldiers. “Can you finish up here? I’ll walk Ms. De la Vega over to the post exchange.”
“Oh, no,” Elena protested. “That’s really not necessary. I can see you’re busy. I can find my way there on my own.”
No way did she want to spend any more time alone with Chase, not after their previous confrontation. She wasn’t sure she could endure another tongue-lashing from him, at least not without losing her composure and subjecting him to one of her own.
“I insist,” Chase said. “Besides, there’re a few things I need to pick up myself.”
Elena could see that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and there didn’t seem any point in arguing further. Reluctantly, she followed him out of the warehouse. Earlier, he’d worn only a T-shirt and shorts. Now he wore standard combat cammies, with a flak vest and an accessory belt weighted down with various pouches and gadgets. He looked as if he’d just stepped off the cover of Soldier of Fortune magazine, all broad shoulders and lean hips and badass attitude.
Just seeing him made Elena’s pulse quicken and her stomach flutter. Why did he have to be so hot? It would be so much easier to maintain her feminine outrage if she wasn’t always thinking about his masculine assets. He seemed taller than he had when she’d met him in Kuwait, and his battle gear made him look more imposing. He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his vest pocket and slid them on, effectively shielding his eyes from her. Elena found she was actually a little in awe of him. They walked silently for several moments.
“Listen, I want to apologize for what I said earlier.” He stopped and faced her. “I was out of line. I was just so—” He paused, obviously struggling for words. “I was shocked to see you, plain and simple.”
Elena nodded. “I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do. You see, I know what’s out there.” He stabbed a finger beyond the fencing that surrounded the base, toward the distant mountains. “Hiding in those hills is an enemy who would do anything—anything—to destroy us. And while the military on this base are trained to deal with that, you aren’t.”
Elena tipped her chin up, refusing to be intimidated. She stepped closer and tapped a finger against his body armor. “Well, I guess that’s why I have you. To protect me.”
To her astonishment, he gripped her by the shoulders and gave her a light shake. “You’re not getting it. I can try to protect you, but I’m not always going to be here. My job takes me outside this base for long periods of time. Who’s going to protect you then, Elena? Your little guardian-angel necklace?”
She stared at him. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but a muscle worked convulsively in his jaw.
“What makes you think I even need protecting? I already told you, I can take care of myself.”
Chase made a growling sound of frustration and before Elena could guess his intent, one hand closed around her upper arm and he hauled her alongside him as he strode down the street. They stopped in front of a concrete structure reinforced on all sides with sandbags. Chase thrust her through the open door and into a concrete tunnel that led downward until they entered a small chamber.
“This is a bomb shelter,” Chase said grimly. “If we come under mortar attack, the sirens will go off. You grab your helmet and your vest and you run as fast as you can to this shelter, you got that?”
Elena glanced around at the dark room, feeling claustrophobic despite the open doorway that allowed some light to enter. She nodded, “Yes, I understand.”
“You don’t stop to grab your pocketbook or your ID card or anything else. You just get your ass in here, under stood?”
Elena stared at him. “Yes, I understand. Now let go, you’re hurting me.”
Chase snatched his sunglasses off and although he loosened his grip, he didn’t release her. “I’m dead serious, Elena.”
“So am I.” She tried to disengage herself, but his fingers were locked around her arm. “Listen, Chase, I appreciate your concern, I really do. But just because we…” She broke off, not sure how to continue and then decided to just be blunt. “You’re not responsible for me just because we spent one night together.”
“I know that, damn it.” He stepped closer, and Elena felt her breath catch at the intensity of his expression. “But the fact is, whether you like it or not, we have a connection. Don’t pretend that you don’t know it’s true.”
They had a connection. Elena’s heartbeat quickened and the air changed. She could almost feel the electric charge that crackled between them. But there was no denying that what he said was true. There was a connection between them.
“Yes,” she finally acknowledged. “I know it’s true. But you said yourself that you won’t give me any preferential treatment, so why are you doing this?”
“Because I don’t want you to rely on anyone else—not the female soldiers you bunk with, and not even me—to help you out if there’s an emergency, okay? You need to know exactly what to do without being told and without freaking out.”
Elena arched an eyebrow at him. “I assure you that I would not freak out.”
“Let’s hope we never have to find out.”
His expression was inscrutable in the hazy light, and Elena was suddenly conscious of the fact that they were alone in the bunker. He was standing close enough that she could actually smell his scent, and it brought all the memories of the previous night rushing back. The feel of his lips. The texture of his skin.
The way he tasted.
“I—I should go,” she said, aware of how breathless her voice sounded. Her gaze drifted over his face and lingered on his mouth. He still held her, but now his grip changed. His hand slid down the length of her arm and captured her hand, turning it over and stroking his thumb over her palm.
“So fucking soft,” he muttered.
The expression on his face was so sensual that Elena’s breath caught, and she couldn’t prevent her fingers from curling around his. “Chase…”
He made a rough sound of defeat and hauled her against his chest as he lowered his head toward hers. Elena had only an instant to register the unyielding surface of his protective vest and the hard jut of his utility belt when a voice interrupted them from outside the bunker.
“Sergeant McCormick, sir! You down here?”
Chase pushed Elena away from him just before a shadow appeared in the entrance to the bunker. The soldier came to an abrupt halt when he saw Elena.
“Sorry, sir,” he said in a rush, and Elena saw it was Mike Corrente. “You’re needed at tactical. Intel says a large force of Taliban fighters is congregating about six miles down the south road.”
The transformation in Chase was immediate and a little alarming to watch. In the space of a heartbeat he went from warm and intimate to cold and professional.
Gripping Elena’s elbow, he steered her toward the entrance, his strides long and purposeful. “I’ll take my men and use the north road to circle around and position ourselves above them.”
Elena had to trot to keep up with Chase as they exited the bunker, and her heart rate kicked up a notch at the thought of him in danger.
“Best we can tell, they’re hoping to overrun the compound after nightfall. Charlie Platoon was in the one of the villages outside Spera to pick up this guy who the villagers say has ties with the Taliban. But now they’re on their way to intercept these guys.”
“Tell them to avoid the wadi,” Chase said. “That entire riverbed is an ambush point.” He pulled Elena to a halt outside the Tactical Operations Center. “Go back to your living quarters and stay there, understood? Mike’ll have someone escort you to the chow hall, and then back to your hut. Under no circumstances are you to leave it without a military escort. And remember what I said. If those sirens go off, you get your ass into that bunker.”
Elena nodded. “What about you?”
For just a moment, his face softened and he reached out to stroke her cheek. “Don’t worry about me. This is what I do best. Just take care of yourself.”
But as he turned and took the stairs to the operations center two at a time, Elena realized she wasn’t afraid for herself at all.
All her thoughts were centered on Chase.
The knowledge that he might be killed caused her chest to constrict. She’d told herself that what they’d done hadn’t meant anything. They’d been two strangers who had briefly taken pleasure in each other, knowing that such enjoyment might not be available to either of them again for a very long time. Whatever connection they shared went no deeper than a physical attraction. So why, then, did it feel as if he’d taken a part of her with him when he left?