Running Fire (5 page)

“Yes. How did you know?”

He smiled tiredly. “That's a deep cut on your scalp. And I think you have a pretty good concussion. Probably a level-two variety. Most people get nausea and dizziness for two or three days after the incident.” He pulled off his boots and his dark green socks that were soaked with sweat. Rubbing his fingers across his aching feet, he said, “I'm taking a bath over there in that pool,” and pointed to it. “Need to get clean.”

“I've been looking at that pool, too,” Leah said wistfully. She wrinkled her nose. “I'm filthy.”

“Easy to get that way out here,” Kell agreed, standing. “I can carry you over there. Give you a sponge bath?” He entertained the thought of helping her undress. All day, off and on, he'd wondered what her body looked like beneath that sexless flight suit of hers. Kell knew he'd been out here way too long.

“No, I think I'll be able to walk tomorrow. Maybe get cleaned up while you're gone.” Her body reacted hotly to his suggestion, however. Leah found herself like a greedy little beggar, wanting any touch he'd bestow on her. What the hell was the matter with her? Why couldn't she hide behind those elaborate walls she'd built up since her divorce?

Grunting, Kell said, “I'll get you a towel, a washcloth and some soap.”

She watched him disappear into the cave where he had all his supplies hidden. Tomorrow, she wanted to get over there and explore his stash. Kell came back with the articles and set them near her. He had a towel draped over his shoulder.

“Now, unless you want to see me buck naked, you might want to just lie down and face the other way?”

“Right. No problem,” Leah muttered, embarrassed, turning over so that her back was toward the pool. Her heart was pulsing. Her desire to see him naked surprised the hell out of her. She was so drawn to his large hands—those fingers that were almost artist-like. And when Kell touched her...groaning softly to herself, Leah listened. And she wished, as she heard him walk into the pool, that she could turn around and appreciate him from a purely aesthetic standpoint.

Kell felt incredibly clean. The water was freezing cold, dripping off the tops of the mountains that remained snowbound all year-round. He tucked a towel around his waist and walked into the other cave to retrieve a clean pair of cammie trousers and a desert-tan T-shirt. He wiped his hair dry as he reentered the cave. Leah was sitting up once again. “All clear.”

She gulped, her gaze moving to his broad set of shoulders and his deep chest. The T-shirt stretched tautly across his upper body and it made her feel shaky inside. What was going on with her? Why was her body behaving like this? Kell looked almost boyish, that easy grin across his mouth, his gray eyes alight with mischief. The transformation was amazing. Breath-stealing. His hips were narrow, and those long legs of his... Leah felt helpless in a feminine kind of way. She'd had very few experiences with men. And they hadn't been good ones. Did sexual libido build up after a while? Hell, she had
no
idea and she felt like an idiot of sorts. She could fly into the most dangerous of situations and not bat an eyelash. But let this Kentucky SEAL, with that loose, boneless walk of his, and that warm smile, walk into her life, and she was turning into a sexual puddle of sorts.

“Hungry?”

Oh, that was a pointed question with all kinds of innuendos, Leah thought. “Yes,” she managed, swallowing nervously.

Kell pulled the towel across his shoulder and left for a moment, returning with two MREs in hand. Leah's breath hitched as he knelt down on one knee near her right side. She could smell the Afghan lye soap on his flesh, his male scent that was sending her body into spasms of heat and hunger. Kell didn't seem to be at all aware of his effect on her. He quickly opened the MRE, tore open the packets and put the plastic ware on the tray for her. Within a minute he had the main dish cooking in the heating bag.

“There you go,” Kell murmured. “Spaghetti tonight.” He lifted his head. He was in such deep trouble. Leah's eyes were huge, such a rich, dark green, and Kell saw gold within them. His gaze dropped to her lips, which parted as his eyes took them in. That's all he needed right now, an erection stirring.
Damn.
He wanted to kiss Leah. Hell, Ballard had entertained the thought of feeling those lips beneath his mouth from the moment he'd seen her face, when he'd laid her down, unconscious, on this floor.

Kell forced himself to get up and move. If he didn't, he was going to be in such deep shit he'd never be able to dig himself out. She was an Army warrant and he was enlisted. He couldn't go there even though his heart and body could give a damn less about military regs or the UCMJ.

Feeling shaky, Leah watched Kell rise. He was at least six feet two inches tall. The breadth of his shoulders, the power of those ropy bicep muscles attested to his superb athletic condition. Mouth dry, she dropped her gaze to the food. Again, she felt heat sweeping up her neck and into her face.

Flustered, she focused on eating. Kell was going to kiss her. She saw it so clearly in his eyes, that for a split second, she couldn't breathe. What would it have been like to kiss this man? Leah wanted to find out, despite her past. Against her screaming brain and her memory, she
wanted
to kiss this SEAL! Worst of all, he was enlisted and she was a warrant. She knew better. Officers were to uphold the UCMJ, not disobey it.

Kell sat down with his MRE, leaning against the cave wall. “When I left the cave complex this morning, I called the master chief first thing and gave him an update on your medical condition.” He glanced over at her. “He said a Major Hayden Grant was demanding you be airlifted out right now.” Kell saw her freeze. The flush in her cheeks drained instantly to white. Her mouth compressed, as if in pain. Leah looked like a deer caught in headlights, he supposed. Paralyzed. And then, Kell remembered she'd been screaming a name during the nightmare. The name Hayden. Scowling, Kell put it together, realizing it was probably the same man. But he wasn't sure. He cleared his throat. “You okay, Leah? You look a little shaken.”

Leah closed her eyes for a moment, wrestling with myriad emotions, mostly fear and, yeah, raw damned terror that was gutting through her right now. But Kell's deep, drawling voice broke through the barriers that had suddenly imprisoned her. She put the packet aside, having absolutely no appetite. Looking over at him, she realized he was worried—for her. There was another emotion she felt him directing toward her: protectiveness. And she felt it surrounding her right now, invisible, but so very real and incredibly comforting to her. Kell must have seen or sensed her terror. “I, uh— That's my ex-husband. He's the commander of the 80th Shadow Squadron that's stationed at Bagram.” Her voice sounded dry. Scared. Licking her lips, she said, “He's always like that.”

“Like what?”

“A control freak,” Leah muttered with distaste. And sexually and physically abusive toward her, playing with her mind, her emotions. A shiver coursed through her and Leah forced herself to hold it together.

Kell saw genuine terror in Leah's eyes. She was easy to read, plus he had his SEAL instincts that never led him wrong and had kept him alive throughout the years. She was frightened. Of her ex? It seemed like it. He watched as her right hand shook as she placed the packet on the MRE bag.

Something repulsive hit him. Ballard couldn't define it. Didn't know what it was about, but God help him, he felt it around Leah. Like a dark, ugly shadow. And she wouldn't look at him.

Leah forced herself to speak. “What was the decision?” The last place she wanted to go was Bagram, where she'd have Hayden in her face, making her life utterly miserable.

“Master Chief told him no,” Kell offered. “I was going to add that the CIA is picking up a lot of radio and cell-phone chatter around the border. When that happens, it means a big push by our enemy is coming shortly. And right now, every forward operating base is on high alert. We've got air assets piling in to be used and every SEAL is out in teams at choke points, working with the Rangers and Delta Force operators. It's a big assault that's coming our way.”

He held her shattered-looking gaze. More gently, Kell added, “You're safer here with me for now, Leah. I know this isn't great digs and I'm sure you're looking forward to a hot shower and hot food...” And he was going to miss her when she left. All day, he'd been looking forward to coming home tonight, seeing her here. Talking with her. Getting to know her. Kell couldn't ever recall a woman making him feel like this. It was Leah, he realized. There was a special connection between them. Kell had felt it from the outset. Now, it was stronger, tighter, more palpable than ever. He could feel it and he knew Leah did, too.

“I'd rather stay here, Kell, if I have any say in it.”

“You have every right to have a say in your rescue. The master chief asked me what I thought you'd want to do and I took a risk and said you'd rather stay with me until we can get a safe opening to get you out of here.” His mouth crooked. “Glad I made the right call.”

Relief flooded through her. “You did.” And then Leah shook her head. “Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.” She said it in jest, but Kell had shown repeatedly he could read her, see right through her, ask the right question or have the correct observations about her.

“Aren't you going to eat?” Kell urged her in a quiet tone.

“No. I'm...not hungry.”

“Because you're upset?”

“Yes.” She shouldn't bare her soul to Kell, but dammit, she felt like doing exactly that. He was a good listener. But she was afraid Kell would judge her if she told him the sordid story of her marriage to Hayden Grant. “I'm just not feeling good,” she muttered, setting the MRE aside.

“What can I do to help?”

Leah sat without reacting, but inwardly, her heart just somersaulted and her pulse began to race. Her lower body went hot and dammit, she felt the dampness between her thighs.
Again
. Pushing her fingers through her dirty hair, she growled, “Nothing.”

Kell got it. Another land mine. Only this time, it had a name attached to it: Major Hayden Grant. He didn't know the Army officer, having little interface with the 80th except to hitch a ride on one of their MH-47 helicopters.

He finished his MRE and stood up. He had an idea, maybe something that could divert Leah's attention to something a little more positive. He walked over and picked up her uneaten MRE. She was pale, agitation in her eyes. Kell could feel the terror around her, even though she didn't say anything.

Going to the other cave, he picked up a large aluminum bowl, found some unscented shampoo he kept for whenever he got a chance to wash up on a sniping mission, and brought it back to the other cave. Going over to the pool, he got fresh, cold water by holding the huge bowl over the drips coming off from the rocks above.

Leah frowned as he brought the bowl of water over and set it nearby. “What's that for?” She met his gray eyes and felt some of her terror dissolve. That powerful sense of protection wrapped around her with just Ballard's kind gaze.

“I think you'll feel better if you can at least get your hair washed.” Kell set up the other sleeping bag, rolling it out and putting his ruck where a pillow would have been.

“But...I can't wash my hair,” Leah said, longing badly to get the dirt off her scalp, get rid of the dried blood so she'd stop smelling it. “I only have one hand.”

“I'll do the washing,” Kell told her. Holding out his hand, he said, “Come on, I have to move you over here. I want you to lie down on your back and let your head hang over the end of my ruck.”

Leah sat there, stunned. He was serious. Her heart opened, catching her off guard. “But—”

“When my grandma Inez was alive, I used to wash her hair once a week. I was a kid, only thirteen, but I usually did a pretty good job. She was happy with my efforts and my mother was relieved I didn't dump the water all over her bed.” Kell gave a bashful grin. “I'm not a hairdresser, but I am pretty good at washing a woman's hair. Want to give it a whirl? Live dangerously?”

Leah stared at his long fingers, seeing the calluses on them, the width of his palm, the inherent strength of him as a man. Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his. Fingers warm and strong around hers, Kell easily lifted her to her feet. Dizziness struck Leah big-time and she felt herself pitching forward.

“I got you,” Kell rasped, placing his arm around her waist and holding her upright. “A little walking is going to be good for you, anyway. It will force your brain to get back to normal quicker.”

Leah's mouth went dry. She was plastered against Kell's body, felt the hardness of his muscles, his stability and strength. Her heart was tripping all over itself. Overwhelmed with too much going on, she simply surrendered to Kell and let him slowly guide her over to the other sleeping bag.

He handled her as if she were a feather in his arms and she knew she wasn't. The man's strength was hidden, but she felt it now as he lowered her to the floor.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Leah wanted to cry. The tears came out of nowhere. Kell was being incredibly gentle with her. As if she were a rare vase that might shatter between his hands if he wasn't careful enough with her. Compared to Hayden's heavy-handedness, his need to hurt her, make her scream for mercy, Kell was the exact opposite.

Somehow, Leah forced back the tears as Kell guided her shoulders onto the ruck, making sure she was comfortable. The difference was pulverizing. Eye-opening.

CHAPTER FOUR

“T
HIS
IS
VERY
cold water,” Kell warned her, settling the bowl between his knees and sliding his fingers through Leah's thick, tangled hair.

“It's okay. I'm just so glad you're going to get the blood out of my hair. The smell is terrible.” Leah bit back a gasp over the pleasure of his fingers sifting through her strands. It was sensual. Heat scattered from her scalp, down to her breasts, tightening them and then flowing to build in her lower body, making it clench and grow needy. She closed her eyes, dragging in a deep, unsteady breath.

“I understand,” Kell soothed. Cupping his hand, he drizzled the water across her scalp. With his other hand, he supported her neck and the back of head, feeling the tension in her.

As he worked with her hair and scalp, Leah gradually began to relax and surrender to him. It was such an intimate act to Kell. She trusted him with herself. Another man might have tried something stupid, to take advantage of her in such a compromised position. He would never do that to any woman. Instead, Kell took pleasure in simply washing Leah's hair, cleansing it of the blood and matted, muddy areas. Knowing how a woman always wanted her hair clean, it was a small gift that he could give to Leah. And soon, her eyes closed and she fully relaxed, her soft lips parting.

Smiling to himself, Kell knew the luxury of having one's hair washed because his grandmother used to lie there and sigh with pleasure, too. Leah didn't, but that was all right. He could see all the tension dissolving from her face and the length of her body.

“I'm afraid my shampoo has no smell to it,” Kell told her, opening the bottle. “Out here when I'm hunting, the Taliban can pick up on a foreign odor and know there's an enemy nearby. I learned a long time ago to get lye soap that has no scent to it.”

“Wise choice.” Leah sighed, feeling his fingers gently begin to massage her scalp. He had removed the dressing from her head earlier and he was very gentle and very careful around the stitched wound. Still, just to get the blood out of her hair, Leah was utterly grateful for his thoughtfulness. “I've never had a man wash my hair before,” she admitted, her voice sounding breathless even to her.

“Well, if this doesn't go right, don't blame the next male hairdresser you get.” He laughed.

“No...you're doing...wonderfully. It feels so good,” Leah whispered, feeling the tingles his fingers were creating by lightly massaging her scalp. Leah had no idea how much tension she'd been holding until it disappeared beneath his seductive fingers.

“Oh, good, then you're not going to fire me.” Kell grinned, rinsing the soap from her sleek, gleaming strands. He heard Leah laugh, his hand cupping and supporting the back of her head. Her skin felt like soft, warm velvet to him. Feeling a bit like a thief, Kell enjoyed touching Leah. He felt good making her laugh. It was better than seeing stark terror lurking in her eyes. Who had scared her so much that she reacted with such a deep, automatic fear?

Once her hair was rinsed free of the soap, he put the bowl aside. Kell held her head up and awkwardly placed a towel around the dripping strands of her hair. “Okay, I'm going to get you up into a sitting position. You ready?”

Leah was sorry it was over. “Yes.” She felt the towel around her head and held it in place with her right hand. Kell gently eased her into a sitting position and then came around to her right side.

“Here, let me? Tough to dry hair with one hand.” Kell took the towel and carefully dried her long, thick hair. Taking a look at the gash on her skull, he said, “The cut is healing nicely. I think we'll let it air-dry tonight. I'll put some antibiotic ointment on it and that's all it should need.”

“I have a medic and a hairdresser all wrapped up in one,” Leah teased. “That feels dry enough, Kell, thank you.” She wanted his hands on her, but at some point the surging pleasure rippling through her would stop. Kell was so damn personable. He slid inside her heavy, protective walls as though they'd never existed.

Kell stood and pulled out a comb from his pocket. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to her. Wanting to sit and watch her, he forced himself to move away from Leah. Watching her was a sensual pleasure all its own in his world. He emptied the water into a channel leaving the pool and hung the wet towel and washcloth in the other cave on some rocks to dry. When he ambled back in, he smiled. Leah had finished combing her hair. The ends were damp and slightly curled across her shoulders.

“Now, don't you feel better?”

Handing him the comb, Leah admitted softly, “I feel a million times better. Thanks so much, Kell.” And she wished she could do something to repay him for his generosity. She watched as he sat down against the wall after moving his sleeping bag over to it.

“My grandma, who had bad arthritis in her hands, would always bake me chocolate-chip cookies as a thank-you for washing her hair weekly.” Kell smiled fondly, remembering those good times.

“I'm afraid I'm a nonstarter in a kitchen,” Leah admitted.

“Tell you what. Next time we happen to both be at Bravo, you can buy me a beer over at the canteen. Fair enough?” He caught her gaze. She looked infinitely better. The tension was gone. So was the terror. Instead, Kell saw her green eyes radiant with warmth. Was that warmth for him? He could feel it, but didn't try to interpret what it meant. That would get him into dangerous quicksand real fast.

“That's a deal,” Leah promised, her voice passionate. “I need to thank you for everything you're doing for me, Kell. I really appreciate it.”

“No need to pay me back,” he murmured. “My ma always taught me you treat others like you would like to be treated. It's been the rule I've lived my life by.”

“Tell me about yourself. You said your parents moved from Alabama to Kentucky. How did you become a SEAL?”

“The short version,” he said, pushing his long legs out in front of him. “My pa, who is a dairy farmer, was in the Army for four years. He thought it was good I do my duty to my country, so I joined the Navy. I'd heard about the SEALs and applied. I got in, managed to survive BUD/S, and here I am.”

“You didn't want to be a farmer?”

“No. I'm a rolling stone.” Kell chuckled. “I liked being outdoors, I liked challenges and I was a pretty active kid. I liked what the SEALs offered me. I believed I could make a difference in the world, take out the bad guys so the good men and women could live.”

“You don't strike me as being black-and-white,” Leah murmured. “You're a good observer of the human condition. That encompasses a lot of gray areas.”

Shrugging, Kell said, “I'm aware of the gray areas. But when it comes to a bad guy who's going to kill one of my brothers, or anyone on our side who is fighting over here, I'm very clear about pulling the trigger. I don't enjoy it, but I know someone has to do it. Does that make more sense?” Ballard absorbed her thoughtful expression. Shadow pilots were aggressive in combat, too. They didn't just drop black ops men off from a helo. They were often in direct combat protecting men on the ground, too.

“Makes sense to me,” Leah agreed. She moved her fingers through her clean hair. It felt like she'd lost a pound of dried blood, sweat and dirt out of the strands. “I have a tough time seeing you in the role of a hunter-sniper.”

“Oh, you met the nice side of me is all,” he said, chuckling. “I'm not out there offering to wash a Taliban soldier's hair, believe me.”

Leah laughed with him. “Point taken.”

“You have any brothers or sisters?” Kell asked. Instantly, he saw he'd just stepped on another land mine with her.
Damn.
If she'd had a miserable marriage, which is what he surmised by her reaction earlier,
and
an unhappy childhood, it was no wonder she was so closed up. Kell could feel her hiding; had sensed it all along.

“Yes,” she said, her voice low. “Evan was my older brother by one year.” Leah tensed and then figured to hell with it. “When I was eight, Evan was nine. My father was on assignment in Rhode Island and when winter came, we'd go for walks. One morning, after a heavy snow, Spike, our dog, went running out into a field where we were walking. He fell through the ice and into a frozen pond.” The corners of her mouth drew in. “Evan went to rescue him and so did I.” She looked up and held Kell's somber gaze. “We didn't realize the ice would break. Evan fell in. And then I did, too. The dog managed to climb up my back and got to thicker ice. I tried to rescue Evan, but he disappeared below the water and I was so cold I could barely move. Somehow, I pulled myself up on the ice. About that time, my father found us.”

“I'm sorry,” Kell offered. Was that why she looked so haunted? “Did you blame yourself for not rescuing Evan?”

Giving him a dark look, Leah nodded. “My parents were grief-stricken. A month afterward, my mother had a heart attack and died. I'm sure Evan's death triggered it. My father went into deep shock.”

“So you were a little eight-year-old girl who was grieving for two losses, then.”

Touched by his awareness, Leah said heavily, “I was devastated.”

“Was your father able to comfort you?”

Shaking her head, Leah said, “No.” And then, “I sort of became a shadow in his life until I was about sixteen. He loved my mother so very much. Looking back on it, I now realize that his love for her was so powerful, so real, that her getting ripped out of his life like that devastated him in ways I can't even understand to this day.”

Kell wanted to go over and sit down and hold her. He heard the quiet pain in Leah's low voice, saw the haunted look back in her expression. “But who took care of
you
?”

“No one, I guess. My father was a major in the Army, and he was up for light colonel. His life revolved around the Shadow Squadron.”
Not me. Never me.

Rubbing his jaw, Kell asked, “Did he ever remarry?”

“No.” Leah looked up, giving him a sad smile. “I got to see what head over heels in love really meant. My father was utterly devoted to my mother. They lived a love I've never seen since.” She opened her hands and gave a strained laugh. “I remember as a kid looking at the love my father had for my mother, wishing someday I'd meet someone who felt like that. Someone who thought I was the most beautiful person in the world. Someone who wanted to love me, care for me and support me like my dad supported my mom.”

And it didn't happen, Kell thought, knowing what little he did about her marriage. “My ma and pa are like that,” he offered. “Pa thinks the world revolves around Ma. Still does to this day. They're in their early sixties and they're completely devoted to each other. And to us. They spread their love around.”

“You're lucky,” Leah said, feeling a bit jealous. “My father...well...he had great plans for Evan and none for me.”

“Ah, the favored-son routine?”

“You could say.”

“How did that change your relationship with your father after Evan died?”

“He basically ignored me until I was sixteen. And then, one day, he told me to get into a helicopter and I did. He started teaching me how to fly. I found I loved it. The freedom...”

“And then you went to college?”

“For two years. I wanted a four-year degree in electrical engineering, but I quit after two years. I was always fascinated with how things worked. Not exactly a girlie girl growing up.”

“Could have fooled me,” Kell said. “You are one heck of a good-looking woman even if you're forced into wearing that bulky flight suit.”

His compliment was sincere and Leah absorbed it. “Thanks...kind of hard to be very feminine out here in the badlands.”

“Don't kid yourself,” he said, smiling a little. “You give that flight suit a whole new, better, meaning.” He saw her blush and she wouldn't meet his eyes. Her shyness bothered him. Again, Kell was seeing her inability to deal with a sincere male-to-female compliment. He wasn't flirting with her. He was being honest. She didn't know the difference.

“I'm pretty much focused on my career” was all Leah could manage. There was no question Kell was interested in her. Leah felt the same toward him, but didn't dare let him know it. There was just no room in her life, with her career as a warrant officer, to allow a potential relationship to work. She looked over. “Are you married, Kell? Have a bunch of children?” Because looking at him, he looked like the father type.

“Was,” Kell admitted. “I met Addison, who was a criminal-defense lawyer, in San Diego. Married at twenty-three and divorced at twenty-seven. She couldn't take my long deployments, and I didn't want children while I was in the SEALs. I'd never be home often enough to be a father to them. My training and deployments kept me away from home so much of the time. I did want children, but I wanted to be a father who was home and there for them, like my pa was for us.”

“You'll make a wonderful father someday,” Leah said. Mentally she was comparing her father to Kell. There was a Grand Canyon of difference between the two men. Her father was cold, bottled up, frozen in time and bitter. Kell was warm, kind and caring. He was able to show his feelings.

Leah wondered if things would have been different between her father and herself if her mother hadn't suddenly died. She had felt abandoned and alone after her mother was gone. She cried for months, every night, sobbing into her pillow, missing Evan and her. Her father was unable to care for her. He couldn't even care for himself, as crippled as he'd been by the multiple deaths.

“I have a good role model,” Kell admitted. “My pa. I have two younger brothers, Tyler and Cody, and we used to have so much fun with him. He taught us how to hunt, fish and care for the land. The three of us grew up milking dairy cows.”