Dawn of Valor (12 page)

As she walked at Chase’s side, Rachel broke out into a cold, unnerving sweat. It was a reaction to fear, something she’d experienced off and on since her capture. Would they get out of here alive? Rachel had tried so hard to maintain a positive view of their situation, but the days without proper food and rest were fraying her optimism.

Needing to talk, she blurted, “Chase, do you think we’ll make it back?”

He glanced over at her. “I don’t know.”

Her stomach knotted hard. “Well…I mean, we’ve done well so far.”

“We’re in a wartime situation, Rachel. I wish I could promise you things are going to be fine, but I can’t. We’ve just got to be on our toes and hope like hell we find our lines before the Commies find us.”

Rubbing her stomach, Rachel frowned, a terrible, cold panic growing deep within her. “I see,” she said faintly, bowing her head, keeping her attention on the countryside around them.

As much as Rachel tried to concentrate on remaining alert to possible enemy patrols, her anxieties multiplied until, by the end of the day, her emotions were frayed and she felt herself unraveling. Rachel had no experience to draw upon to know how to combat her spiraling fear.

The temperature dropped dramatically when the sun slid behind the horizon, and Rachel was shivering despite the fast pace of their walk southward. They had crossed another valley and had trekked close to thirty miles that day, in her estimation. Her breath came out of her mouth in ragged white wisps as they climbed a grassy hill. The moon had just risen, the sickle shape larger than before, casting a glow that reminded her of a molten river of silver across the landscape.

Glancing down at his watch, Chase slowed. It was midnight. He turned, looking down at Rachel. The scratch on her face was puffy, marring the beauty of her features. Looking into her eyes, he saw weariness and something else. There was a haunted quality to Rachel, something he’d not seen before. Recalling their earlier conversation, Chase knew that the reality of their dangerous situation was hitting Rachel in earnest. Yet, the stubborn set of her lips told him she would keep going without complaint if he asked it of her.

“Ready to call it a night?” His voice was low, barely audible. They hadn’t run into any more patrols, although they had seen a convoy on a dirt road speeding north late in the day.

“Am I ever,” Rachel whispered. Her legs felt rubbery, and she was shivering. Placing her arms around herself, she rubbed her arms vigorously, trying to create better circulation.

“It’s freezing out here,” Chase muttered. He looked around, spotting a ledge and a small crawl space beneath it. Capturing Rachel’s hand, he turned, leading her toward it. Chase’s hand was warm in comparison to hers. Rachel remained close, needing the heat of his body. She fought the other reasons; being near Chase aroused her in new and wonderful ways that she desperately wanted to explore with him. Rachel remembered her mother’s words: A woman saved herself for the man who was going to be her husband. The silly thought invaded her spongy senses that Chase, despite his warlike beliefs, was really a decent man at heart. He didn’t enjoy killing. To him, it was like a game of wits, nothing more or less. In her present state, she wanted to be in his arms, to huddle up next to him, feel his strength and hide from the tearing fear that lived within her.

As Chase released her hand, knelt and cleared the pebbles from beneath the overhang, Rachel allowed his presence to envelope her fatigued senses. When he turned, motioning for her to join him in the small space, she hesitated.

“Come on!” he whispered.

“Chase, there isn’t room in there for both of us.”

With a growl, Chase pulled Rachel into the niche. “It’s too late and we’re too tired to argue. I’m not going to take advantage of you.” He folded her into his arms, her length against his. Seeing the disbelief in her large green eyes, Chase held on to his fraying temper. “Look, just because I stole a kiss once doesn’t mean I’m going to do it again.”
Liar.
Right now with her head resting against his arm, her body fitted comfortably against him, Chase entertained that very thought.

Rachel tried to protest, but it was impossible. Chase was warm, and his arm around her shoulders was taking away some of the chill. She was afraid that if she admitted how badly she needed to be held, Chase might take advantage of the situation. Burrowing her head beneath his chin, her cheek against his chest, she felt some of her fear melt away.

Grinning crookedly, Chase relaxed, contentment flowing through him. If he told Rachel how good she felt against him, she’d push away and spend the night outside the ledge. “Trust me,” he soothed deeply. “Come on, let’s sleep, Angel Eyes. We’re too tired to do anything.” Well, that wasn’t quite true. As Chase ran his hand up and down her back to create warmth in her, he thought it was a good thing Rachel couldn’t read his mind.

“This isn’t right, Chase.”

He heard the indignation in her protest. “I know it isn’t, but it can’t be helped. I’m not going to let you sit out there trembling. It would make me feel like a heel.”

Rachel took a deep, ragged breath, pressing closer. “I—I’m cold, Chase…”
And scared.
The words never left her lips. She didn’t want him to think her weak.

“Take it easy, Rachel. Use my body heat to warm yourself.”

Though her conscience shouted that it wasn’t right, fatigue won the argument. Rachel surrendered, sinking deeply into his embrace. As Rachel lay with his arm acting as a pillow, her face pressed into the folds of his flight suit, she laughed to herself. For being a nurse and knowing so much about anatomy and the male body, this was certainly a different sensation.

“Better?” Chase asked in a low voice, his mouth very near her ear.

“Yes…”

He smiled, hearing the pleasure in her husky voice as he continued to slowly rub her back. “Warmer?”

Rachel gave a slight nod, her hands nestled between her breasts. Her lids felt weighted, and she acquiesced, falling into a deep sleep, unaware of anything except Chase’s arms holding her safe.

How long Chase lay with Rachel in his arms, wanting her, he didn’t know. Every inhalation of her breath brought her soft breasts against his chest. Her scent moved maddeningly around him, enticing him, cajoling him to do something about it.
Why couldn’t she be less beautiful? Married? Anything?
He glared into the darkness, telling himself all the reasons why he should leave her alone.

At the end of two hours, Chase was more awake than before. Though he was mentally tired, his body was begging him to love Rachel. The moonlight slanted beneath the overhang, illuminating Rachel’s sleeping features. She looked angelic in sleep, he thought, staring down at her, absorbing her into his heated bloodstream.

Her full, beautifully formed lips were slightly parted in sleep, alluring and beckoning. Her softly winged brows were frames for her wonderful green eyes. He liked her chin and the strong line of her jaw. And Rachel’s burning, unquenchable spirit drew him powerfully to her.

Reaching out, Chase gently drew several strands of ebony hair away from her injured cheek, tucking them behind her delicately shaped ear. He’d never met a woman like her, so full of life, possessing her own opinions and displaying an incredible confidence. She was no wilting lily, that was for sure.

Frowning, Chase allowed his hand to rest against the crown of her hair. Something special about Rachel had eaten at him hourly over the past few days. Chase had tried to define it. She was a rare butterfly and he was chasing her with his net, trying to capture her. His eyes darkened as he ruthlessly assessed his feelings.

There was no way to break the connective cord he felt strung between them. So much of what he felt defied definition. Chase knew only that when he talked with Rachel, he was eager to communicate and explore any topic with her. He might not agree with her on the war issue, but it excited him that she had an opinion on it in the first place.

A slight deprecating smile formed on his mouth as he gazed longingly down at her. Chase felt his heart expanding outward, exploding with a warm sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Chase wanted to tell her he admired her, even if he didn’t agree with her.

His smile deepened as he watched her breasts rise and fall slowly against the less than flattering fatigues she wore. There was no way to hide her femininity. Of their own accord, his fingers began threading through strands of her hair. Each strand was like silk: strong, resilient, yet smooth and sleek, like Rachel herself.

Rachel stirred in her sleep, trying to escape the terror that stalked her. She felt Chase’s fingers sliding through her hair, combing it gently, releasing a deluge of stored longing from her heart. No one had ever touched her with such reverence, such overwhelming tenderness.

As she opened her sleep-filled eyes, Rachel stared up into the dark blueness of Chase’s intense gaze. Her breath snagged in her throat and she was unsure whether it was a moan of pleasure or a cry to tell him to stop touching her. Drawn into the cobalt depths of his eyes, Rachel felt her terror dissolving, leaving her real feelings and needs exposed for the first time.

As if sensing Rachel’s reaction, Chase laid his hand on her shoulder, offering her a helpless smile. “Lady, I can’t sleep with you in my arms. I don’t know where dreams and reality begin or end with you, Angel Eyes….”

The gritty words washed across her, permeating her skin, heating her blood and putting her in direct touch with an ache deep within her.
Angel Eyes.
The endearment moved through her like sunlight, and Rachel raised her hand, pressing it against Chase’s chest. She felt the strong muscles beneath her hand tense, and she wanted more to explore than push him away.

“Chase…” For the first time, Rachel realized that she could die. Her optimism was gone. In its place was a terrible knowledge that she could die today—any day, before possible rescue. And so could Chase. Rachel stared up into his face—incredibly tender despite his harsh features. She would never know what it would be like to love him. The feeling struck her deeply, and she raised her hand, tentatively sliding her fingers along his beard-roughened cheek.

He frowned, watching Rachel’s eyes. Chase saw very real fear in them, but he also saw desire—for him. Just the butterfly touch of her fingers against his flesh made him groan. Trying to separate desire from her actions, he gripped her hand.

“Rachel, what’s wrong?”

She took a ragged half breath. “I—I just realized that we could die, Chase.”

Nodding, he guided her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss into the small palm. “I know.” He felt the rise and fall of her breasts against him, sensing her need of him. His own hunger sharpened as she reacted to his kiss. The wild urge to kiss her pleading lips drove him beyond his massive control. His hand tightened on her shoulder momentarily. Shadows highlighted Rachel’s clean features, making her excruciatingly tempting.

Rachel released the breath, seeing the intent in Chase’s narrowing eyes, wanting the promise she saw in them. Life over death. As she closed her eyes, feeling the tentative brush of his lips on hers, Rachel realized what life was all about. Chase’s mouth plundered her, the terror dissolving beneath his quickening breathing and worship of her. A moan slid from her throat as she felt him begin to unbutton her shirt. His fingers were trembling…but so was she.

Burying herself in the primal needs of life, Rachel surrendered to the building fire that extended from her thighs up to her taut, aching breasts. Her lashes fluttered as Chase pulled back her shirt, exposing her bra. Somewhere in her dizzied senses, Rachel acknowledged her womanly instincts, promising her life above death.

The shirt came off, and so did her cotton bra. Rachel gasped as Chase’s roughened fingers caressed her breast, but it was a sound of pleasure, not shock.

Leaning down, Chase trailed a series of kisses from Rachel’s soft, pouty lips, down her slender neck to her finely sculpted collarbones, then her small, firm breasts. Stunned by her unexpected decision, he gloried in her, wanting her more than any woman in his life. His knowledge that their lives hung in a fragile balance consumed him. If he had to be captured or die, he didn’t want it to happen before he could love Rachel. The words were almost torn from him, but as she pressed her breasts against him, all thought was erased.

“I need you,” he rasped thickly, sliding his hand down her torso, his hand cradling her belly, asking entrance. Burying his face in her hair, he felt Rachel moan, her mouth moving insistently across his neck, jaw, and finally to his mouth. As he fumbled with the buttons on her fatigue trousers, Chase’s senses spun. Rachel was just as fiery in loving as she was at living her life. The discovery only made him want her more.

Her trousers were next. Rachel had unzipped his flight suit, running her fingers through the mass of dark hair across his chest. Chase was beautifully and brazenly male to her excited senses. He slid out of his uniform, and the instant his warm, hard flesh met hers, Rachel sank into his arms. Chase gently maneuvered her onto her back. Lifting her lashes, Rachel stared up into his face in the shadowy light.

“Love me,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “Please…”

Urgency pounded through Chase. Time…they didn’t have any left. Now was all that counted. He saw the desperation, the need coupled with desire in her eyes. As he covered her, a fleeting thought crossed his whirling mind. Rachel deserved to be courted, to have her first time be beautiful—to be introduced into the realm of lovemaking with delicious slowness and tenderness. Chase crushed the thoughts as they arose. They might never get back—never have that chance. As he felt Rachel open her firm, velvety thighs to him, he framed her face with his hands. He could only give her what they both needed now under terrible, uncertain circumstances.

Rachel felt Chase’s large hands close around her face, and she opened her eyes, looking up into his, drowning in them. Trying to prepare herself was impossible. Her blood pounded demandingly through her, driving her to couple with him. Tenderness and concern burned in Chase’s eyes as he held her gaze. She felt him press against her, felt the pressure as he sheathed deeply into her. Her lashes fluttered closed, her breathing suspended.