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Course of Action: Out of Harm's Way / Any Time, Any Place
Merline Lovelace
Lindsay McKenna
Out of Harm’s Way by Lindsay McKennaAfter Madison Duncan is kidnapped, Navy SEAL Travis Cooper must bring her back home. He deftly recovers her from a dangerous force, but never expects such a strong attraction… and a love he never saw coming.Any Time, Any Place by Merline LovelaceDuke Carmichael, an Air Force combat controller, takes on an assignment to smoke out a terrorist. His cover is to be the husband of his new partner, gorgeous operative Anna Solov. When they receive conflicting orders, can they trust their own instincts—and each other?


Two high-octane, passionate military stories from bestselling authors Lindsay McKenna and Merline Lovelace…
OUT OF HARM’S WAY by Lindsay McKenna
After Madison Duncan is kidnapped, Navy SEAL Travis Cooper must bring her back home. He deftly recovers her from a dangerous force, but never expects such a strong attraction…and a love he never saw coming.
ANY TIME, ANY PLACE by Merline Lovelace
Duke Carmichael, an Air Force combat controller, takes on an assignment to smoke out a terrorist. His cover is to be the husband of his new partner, gorgeous operative Anna Solov. When they receive conflicting orders, can they trust their own instincts—and each other?
Praise for New York Times bestselling author Lindsay McKenna
“Gunfire, emotions, suspense, tension and sexuality abound in this fast-paced, absorbing novel.”
—Affaire de Coeur on Wild Woman
“Talented Lindsay McKenna delivers excitement and romance in equal measure.”
—RT Book Reviews on Protecting His Own
“Lindsay McKenna will have you flying with the daring and deadly women pilots who risk their lives… Buckle in for the ride of your life.”
—Writers Unlimited on Heart of Stone
Praise for USA TODAY bestselling author Merline Lovelace
“Merline Lovelace rocks! Like Nora Roberts, she delivers top-rate suspense with great characters, rich atmosphere and a crackling plot!”
—New York Times bestselling author Mary Jo Putney
“Lovelace’s many fans have come to expect her signature strong, brave, resourceful heroines and she doesn’t disappoint.”
—Booklist
“Ms. Lovelace wins our hearts with a tender love story featuring a fine hero who will make every woman’s heart beat faster.”
—RT Book Reviews on Wrong Bride, Right Groom
LINDSAY McKENNA
is proud to have served her country in the U.S. Navy as an aerographer’s mate third class—also known as a weather forecaster. She was a pioneer in the military romance subgenre and loves to combine heart-pounding action with soulful and poignant romance. True to her military roots, she is the originator of the long-running and reader-favorite Morgan’s Mercenaries series. She does extensive hands-on research, including flying in aircraft such as a P3-B Orion sub-hunter and a B-52 bomber. She was the first romance writer to sign her books in the Pentagon bookstore. Today, she has created a new military romantic suspense series, Shadow Warriors, which features romantic and action-packed tales about U.S. Navy SEALs. Visit her online at:
www.lindsaymckenna.com (http://www.lindsaymckenna.com)
https://twitter.com/lindsaymckenna (https://twitter.com/lindsaymckenna)
https://www.facebook.com/eileen.nauman (https://www.facebook.com/eileen.nauman)
MERLINE LOVELACE
A career air force officer, Merline Lovelace served at bases all over the world, including tours in Taiwan, Vietnam and at the Pentagon. When she hung up her uniform for the last time, she decided to combine her love of adventure with a flair for storytelling, basing many of her tales on her experiences in the service.
Since then, she’s produced more than eighty action-packed novels, many of which have made USA TODAY and Waldenbooks bestseller lists. Over eleven million copies of her works are in print in thirty countries. Be sure to check her website at www.merlinelovelace.com (http://www.merlinelovelace.com) for contests, news and information on future releases.
Course of Action
Out of Harm’s Way
Lindsay McKenna
Any Time, Any Place
Merline Lovelace





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Out of Harm's Way (#uf6a3fe98-224c-5c5f-ac4d-c9a50df26a7c) by Lindsay McKenna
Any Time, Any Place (#litres_trial_promo) by Merline Lovelace
Dear Reader,
I hope you’re all having a marvelous start to the holiday season! This month, you’ll want to get that pulse racing with these four unforgettable romances from Mills & Boon Romantic Suspense.
We are thrilled to have these two military-themed gems from bestselling authors Lindsay McKenna and Merline Lovelace, entitled Course of Action (#1775). A Navy SEAL rescues a damsel, who turns out to be his dream come true, while another couple, masquerading as husband and wife on a dangerous mission, find their own happily ever after. Colleen Thompson contributes a fabulous story, The Colton Heir (#1776), to our popular miniseries The Coltons of Wyoming with a harrowing tale of unveiled secrets and the past posing a perilous threat. Plus, a long-lost Colton finally makes his appearance.
Don’t miss C.J. Miller’s Protecting His Princess (#1777), which features an Arabian royal who breaks with tradition to have the life that she wants. Will she find love with the distrusting—and disturbingly handsome—FBI agent who’s keeping her safe? Let’s welcome new author Lara Lacombe, who debuts with Deadly Contact (#1778). Here, a beautiful scientist and an FBI agent must work together to stop a bioterrorist attack on Washington, D.C. Will true love win out over danger?
As always, we deliver on our promise of breathtaking romance. Have a wonderful November and happy reading!
Sincerely,
Patience Bloom
Senior Editor
Out of Harm’s Way
Lindsay McKenna
To the U.S. Navy SEALs, who give their lives so that we may enjoy the freedom we have in the United States of America. And equal gratefulness and thanks to the SEAL families who sacrifice heavily on the home front.
Contents
Chapter 1 (#ucf8b551f-25d8-562d-9df9-2024d3b5a68a)
Chapter 2 (#u8af9f5ba-d2d8-5663-94f6-45197d189d89)
Chapter 3 (#u5ee360c0-8f71-5879-8879-498c0f29a907)
Chapter 4 (#u7e1dede6-9fba-5958-95e3-d39c01bf232b)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1
Madison Duncan couldn’t still her excitement. She wanted to see the Afghan horses near the house where she was staying. She slipped away from the U.S. agricultural mission in the Shinwari leader’s home.
Earlier, when she and the six men on her mission had been driven in with their Marine Corps escort, she’d spotted a corral of Afghan horses out behind the three-story mud-and-rock house. She was the horse breeding expert on the humanitarian mission to help the Shinwari tribe improve their horses. And now, Madison simply couldn’t wait any longer to take a look at the animals.
Taking a side door, she quietly slipped outside. It was dusk, the sky a cobalt dome above the valley ringed by the high Hindu Kush mountains. Already, she could see stars so close that it took her breath away.
They were ten miles from the Pakistan border, and the Marine captain, whose duty it was to keep this group of U.S. civilians safe, had told her they were in the badlands. The area was heavy with Taliban and Al-Qaeda activity and skirmishes. The captain warned her no one was safe without military escort, even inside the five-foot mud wall that surrounded Lar Sholten, a large village of two hundred people.
She could barely see through the semidarkness of the June evening, the dust fine and rising around her knee-high black leather riding boots as she headed toward a corral of rock and mud. Inside were about ten Afghan horses.
Her heart quickened with anticipation as she pulled her denim jacket a little tighter around her. At six thousand feet, the night air turned cold, and she wished she’d brought more than summer clothes. At least her jeans helped shield her from the dropping temperature. She just needed a good, bulky winter sweater.
Some of the horses nickered as she walked up to the wooden gate. Smiling, Madison put her hand over the chest-high wall, calling to them. “Hey,” she cooed softly. “Come on over...” These were small horses, maybe fourteen hands tall, sturdy with thick necks. Their heads still bore some resemblance to their Arabian ancestors with small muzzles and short, fine ears. A gray horse with a thick, scruffy black mane walked over. Madison had been told that the Afghans always rode geldings. Tribal leaders were the only ones who could ride a stallion. The mares were kept solely for breeding purposes.
She smiled and saw how large the brown eyes were on the gray gelding. Scratching his ears, which he loved, she tried to look at the animal’s overall conformation.
The Shinwari tribe had signed papers with the U.S., asking them for help. Her father, John Duncan, owned a Trakehner stud farm in College Station, Texas, and had been invited to go along. He’d broken his ankle and couldn’t make it, and Madison pleaded successfully to be allowed to go in his stead. She’d been raised with the Prussian warm-blooded horses that had a global reputation for refining and improving any other breed of horse.
At last, she was here with these beautiful animals. She focused on the gray horse and stood on tiptoes to look over at his legs. He had a short back and fine-looking head, all reminiscent of earlier Arabian breeding. Afghanistan, at least in the eastern portion, was nothing but rocky mountains and desert, and the Arabian influence on these horses was telling.
She moved to the wood-slatted gate and knelt down, running her hand down the animal’s front leg. He had a short, thick cannon bone, which was good for mountainous areas. Surprised at how nice his front legs were, her mind automatically went to the next step. Her job was to assess the horses and determine what breed could improve them. The leader of the village had said he wanted a taller horse because not all Afghans were short, although she’d seen many who were.
It was getting too dark to see, but Madison stood there, her arms wrapped around her body, listening to the soft snort of the horses inside the corral. Soon, she’d need to return since she was alone and it was dark. The U.S. mission was staying at the home of Timor Kahn, the Shinwari chieftain. There, the Marine detachment would guard them twenty-four hours a day.
She looked up. The stars were now huge and hung so close that she thought she might reach out and touch them. Madison heard the wind gusting down off the mighty Hindu Kush. The valley was long and wide with a river running through it. Everything seemed so peaceful. She noticed some of the horses lift their heads, ears forward, hearing something she could not.
Madison thought it might be one of the Marine guards who had discovered her missing and come looking for her. She’d probably get chewed out. The Marines were jumpy and wary. Yet, as she absorbed the night sky and the snort of horses, the place seemed so placid.
Suddenly, her world erupted. A strong male hand clapped over her mouth. Madison was jerked backward off her feet. Her nostrils flared and a scream lodged in her throat. She was slammed to the ground. Her head struck the dirt with force, almost knocking her unconscious. She heard a hiss and an order in a foreign language. Struggling, she felt a rag shoved into her mouth and then tightened around her head so she couldn’t scream. Terror flooded her as she tried to kick out at her unseen attackers.
Oh, God! Her mind shorted out as she felt her arms jerked behind her back and rough ropes being looped around her wrists. The bindings bit savagely into her skin and she cried out, the sound dying behind her gag. Breathing hard, she barely saw faces. Men’s faces. They wore turbans. Their eyes were filled with hatred. She was jerked roughly to her feet.
Madison tried to struggle. Someone threw a black wool hood over her head, and she tried to yank free. The hands of the men propelled her swiftly forward. She tried to fight, until one of her attackers slapped her. Hard. Her knees almost buckled from the blow. Madison was half dragged and half carried away from the house.
Nose bleeding, her cheek smarting and throbbing, Madison was put up on a horse. She heard the mutterings of men around her. What was going on? What was happening to her? A rope was looped around her left ankle and then passed beneath the belly of her horse. Her right ankle was also tied.
Raw terror compelled her to try to cry out. She fought the bonds holding her hands behind her back. Her legs were tied such that she couldn’t lift them to kick the horse she was on. She was trapped.
In moments, she heard a flurry of action around her, and then her horse lurched forward into a gallop. She nearly fell off, but yanked herself forward, gripping the fleeing horse with her long thighs. She’d been captured!
As they rode hard, the pounding of hooves thundered in her ears. She heard a whip strike the rump of her horse. The animal grunted and leaped forward, galloping faster. Tears jammed into her eyes. Oh, God, she shouldn’t have left the house! She should have listened to the Marines! What was going to happen to her? How could she get loose?
* * *
“Raven Actual, this is Raven Main. Over.”
Frowning, Petty Officer, 2nd Class Travis Cooper answered his radio. He was in his hide, his .300 Win-Mag sniper rifle on a bipod searching for an HVT, high value target, that was to come across the border. It was his job as a SEAL to take the target out.
“Raven Actual,” he answered, wondering what was going down. He didn’t get a call unless something went seriously wrong. He was in his hide five hundred feet above the desert floor on the rocky slope of scree, waiting for his HVT. Above, the stars glimmered and danced in the night sky.
“Be apprised an American woman, Madison Duncan, has been kidnapped by the Taliban. We’ve got a drone watching the group’s progress toward the border.”
Surprised, Travis scowled. An American woman? Out here? His mind spun with a hundred questions. “Roger, Raven Main.” So how was he involved in this?
“She has been kidnapped from the Shinwari village of Lar Sholten, ten miles west of your position.”
He sat back from his position of looking through his Nightforce scope. “Roger that, Raven Main.” And just exactly what did Lieutenant Brad Scofield, his LT and head of Delta Platoon back at Camp Bravo, want him to do about it?
“Raven Actual, you are the closest to where it appears the Taliban is headed. They’re pushing though the night to make the border, so they must have night vision capability.”
“Roger that.” Travis knew the U.S. military couldn’t throw lead at the kidnappers. The bullets or bomb could kill the American woman, too. He was beginning to see the handwriting on the wall. He’d been in his sniper hide for two weeks, watching and patiently waiting for this HVT to leave Pakistan and sneak across the border into Afghanistan. And it was his job to identify him and take him out.
“Raven Actual, we need you to interdict this group of five horsemen and take them out. It’s imperative Ms. Duncan be kept alive and rescued. Over.”
Grimacing, Travis said in his West Texas drawl, “Roger that, Raven Main. You got an ETA when they’re gonna come by my area?” Hell, that group of Taliban could split off or ride elsewhere other than where he was. However, Travis’s hide was probably one of the most perfectly placed for watching the traffic across the border.
“Raven Actual, Master Chief Braden will be in touch with you as this goes down.”
“Raven Main, what about dropping a couple of SEALs to apprehend them?”
“Negative, Raven Actual. The minute they hear a helicopter coming toward them, they’re going to scatter and hide in those caves. Right now, we have drone eyes on them and they are moving toward the border.”
Well, hell’s bells. Travis scrubbed his face. “Roger, Raven Main. Do you have an ID on this kidnapped American?”
“Roger, am transmitting to your laptop right now.”
This was not what Travis wanted. He couldn’t give away his hide position. He’d been out in the mountains for weeks, hunting and waiting. “Hold, Raven Main,” he muttered, leaving his sniper rifle where it sat and moving into his hide. He grabbed his laptop, opened it up and then connected it via satellite phone. It was the only way to receive or transmit pictures and other intel. The screen was in low light mode so it couldn’t be seen by the enemy, who were always in the caves around his hidden position.
The color photograph, a passport photo, of Madison Duncan opened up. His heart jumped for a moment. She was young. He quickly scanned the passport and other provided information. Blond hair, blue eyes, twenty-six years old and from College Station, Texas. Hell, she was a Texas gal. That made this more important to him because he was from Texas. And it didn’t hurt a thing that she was damned good-looking. And single, according to the intel. Madison’s shoulder-length blond hair had been streaked several shades and colors by the sun. Her face was oval with a broad brow, high cheekbones and a beautiful mouth. Yeah, that mouth could get him into a lot of trouble, and he smiled to himself.
“Raven Main, you got anything else on the package?” Like, what the hell was she doing out here in the badlands?
“Roger, Raven Actual. She’s part of a U.S. agricultural mission to help the Shinwari tribe. Her father owns a Trakehner stud farm and she’s over here to look at Afghan horses and suggest better breeding methods to the tribe.”
Trakehners? Travis had heard about the breed but his familiarity was with the quarter horses on his father’s ranch. “Roger that. How did she get kidnapped?”
“According to the U.S. Marine Captain who was in charge of protecting this group, she slipped out of the house at dusk. They found evidence of a struggle at the horse corral.”
So, the Texas gal disregarded the Marine’s orders to stay with the group and remain guarded. Travis shook his head. Sounded like a Texas gal to him, all right. Strong minded, stubborn and, as a result, kidnapped. “Roger that. You said five horsemen?”
“Roger. All carrying AKs. They’ve got her bound and hooded. She’s riding in the center of the group and can’t possibly escape on her own.”
No, Travis imagined, she sure as hell couldn’t. He felt sorry for her, but he also felt anger. If the woman had trusted her Marine contingent she wouldn’t be in this fix.
“Any idea of what they’re going to do with her?”
“No. Our best guess is they’re going to move her into Pakistan and, most likely, demand a ransom.”
Travis sighed and quirked his mouth. “Either that or sell her as a sex slave.”
“That, too,” Lieutenant Scofield said.
Which was why she had to be rescued, Travis thought.
“Any idea who’s got her?”
“Roger. Hill tribe members, from what we can ascertain.”
Great, the hill tribe with Khogani leading it was constantly making war against the Shinwari. Both claimed the Khyber Pass area. And that was the only route between Afghanistan and Pakistan.
“Roger that.” Travis sighed. “That means I’m probably going to give away my hide, LT.”
“Yes, it does.”
“If I can spring her loose from those bastards, I’m on my own. There’s Taliban crawling all over this area. You won’t be able to get a Night Stalker helo down here to pick us up. I’m going to have to gun and run with her until I can get out of this immediate area.”
“Understood.”
“Keep me updated on their progress and location.” To Travis, this was looking like a FUBAR of the finest kind. There were thousands of Taliban and Al-Qaeda crisscrossing this border area. It was a hotbed of activity and one couldn’t just drop a helo into it because the enemy would see it, fire on it and, most likely, destroy it. No, if he could rescue this damned bull-headed Texas brat, it meant being on the run for days, possibly, before an extrication mission could be called to get them out of this area.
“Roger that, Raven Actual. Out.”
Travis put the sat phone down on his rucksack, scowling into the total darkness. There were thousands of caves all around this area. The Taliban used them regularly to hide from drone eyes and from the deadly Apache helicopters that stalked them.
He pulled the cover off his watch and saw that it was midnight. Rubbing his bearded jaw, he thought about the possibilities. He had to act fast. Once again, he examined the live video feed of the Taliban fleeing with the kidnapped woman. They were moving at a steady trot and it was clear to him someone had night vision goggles or they wouldn’t be able to ride through the darkness.
His thoughts turned to his buddies from back home. He and five others from Rush Springs, Texas, had been on the football team that captured the state championship. They called themselves the Sidewinders, striking like a rattler and beating more powerful teams. All six of them had a sidewinder tattooed around their right biceps. And during those four years, they were like football gods to their small Texas town in the panhandle.
Shortly after graduation, they all went into the military. And it didn’t surprise Travis that all six of them went into black ops. He grinned a little, thinking about Duke Carmichael, one of the Sidewinders. If he’d gotten this plate of hot potatoes, his good friend, who was a combat controller in the Air Force, would probably die laughing. Of course, Duke had been a real favorite among the girls at the high school, and he had a hell of a reputation for bedding as many as he could. Given that a woman was involved in this op, Duke would leap at the chance to rescue her.
Only problem was, he’d seen Duke at Bagram when he was finishing up an assignment with another SEAL team. Duke had been shot in the thigh and was headed for Germany on a C-5 to get patched up. His friend would be out of commission for a while, but knowing Duke, who was not one to sit around, he’d find a way to stir up trouble.
Travis missed the other Sidewinders. They did stay in touch, occasionally crossing one another’s paths in the black ops world. When they did, a cold beer at a bar was the standard celebration, filling in the blanks of what was going on in their lives. The last he’d heard from Duke was that he was bored out of his skull while healing up stateside.
Travis put the happy thoughts away and began to gather all his equipment and store it in the sixty-five-pound ruck he’d wear on his back. Normally, he was a very patient person, which was part of the sniper personality, but he wasn’t going to leave this hide until he was sure that group of riders would pass his way. He’d worked too hard, for nearly a week, finding this spot and creating a place where he’d not be detected.
If the group continued to come in his direction, he was most likely going to have to leave his hide, move lower on the slope and hope like hell he’d intersect them. If that group rode a mile away from him, he wouldn’t be able to stop them. And she’d be plunged into a void more terrifying than any nightmare. Damned stubborn woman.
He’d grown up on a West Texas ranch and knew all about Texas fillies who were unlike most other women. This Madison gal was a horsewoman. And she obviously didn’t follow orders, traipsing off on her own. That was good and bad news. If he got a shot at the Taliban riders, he’d have to hope she’d keep her head about her. He had to take the enemy down in swift succession. What he didn’t need was some wimpy woman who couldn’t think coolly in a crisis. All the Texas women he’d known growing up were solid and not given to hysteria when the chips were down.
Travis scowled. At twenty-seven, he’d been married and divorced. Thank God, no kids came out of it. And his job as a SEAL had definitely put his marriage in the hurt locker. Marrying Isabella Winborne had been a lifelong dream for Travis. They’d grown up in Rush Springs and had been high school sweethearts. Travis had stupidly made the mistake of promising Isabella he’d marry her. He’d joined the SEALs at eighteen, and he’d waited until twenty-one to make good on that promise.
Isabella came from a very rich Texas family and her parents didn’t want her marrying him because he came from a middle-class Texas ranching family. But like any Texas woman, Isabella was headstrong and fought her family. Snorting softly, Travis remembered their divorce when he was twenty-four. It was messy. There’d been a lot of hard feelings in Rush Springs. His parents had had to deal with the fallout. Travis had been overseas and missed it. Until he’d gone home.
Yeah, he knew about strong-willed Texas women, for damn sure. Pulling out his Sig Sauer 9 mm pistol, he put a bullet in the chamber. His mind lingered on that bad patch in his life. He’d loved Isabella, but his life as a SEAL had interfered and the marriage had dissolved over time like a ticking time bomb. Isabella wasn’t prepared for the months he’d be away. There was a ninety-percent divorce rate among the SEALs and she’d been a casualty of it, and so had he. Travis swore that, from that moment on, he was not going to fall in love again. At least, not while in the SEALs.
Now it appeared he’d gotten entangled with another headstrong Texas woman: Madison Duncan. He felt bad for her because he knew this particular enemy hated American women on a par with American men. She would not be treated well and that ate at him. Rape came to mind and he tried to ignore the possibility. They could beat her to death, as well. He hoped she had strong Texas genes because she would need them to survive this. If she survived it at all.
Travis could imagine that SEAL HQ at Bagram was going nuts at this point since Madison’s rescue had fallen on their shoulders. Yeah, they were black ops, but he wondered about the political fallout on this escapade. If the SEALs didn’t get this done right, their name would be tarnished in the American press and the world. Not something that the admiral running the SEALs wanted, Travis was sure. And everything was landing on his shoulders. With the lack of intel, he had to rely on her being from Texas and assume she’d be tough enough to deal with the situation.
His mind skipped like a rock over a pond’s surface. He knew the cave system in this area like the back of his own hand. He’d spent three deployments here along the border. That was the good news. There were some caves and systems he knew intimately. The Taliban favored certain caves, but he’d done his homework over the years, finding others where he could hide and not be discovered. Those caves were around and they’d most likely take advantage of them. If he could rescue her. If she lived. If she wasn’t injured. If she was ambulatory. Pushing his fingers through his longish black hair, his eyes narrowing, Travis knew he needed some luck. Would he get it?
* * *
Madison didn’t know how long she’d been on the trotting horse. Blinded by the hood, her arms and shoulders now numb, she tried to remain on board the animal. There was never any talking among her kidnappers. They just relentlessly pushed their horses. She could smell the sweat on her own horse. It was stumbling regularly, which meant it was tired and needed to rest. She had tried to push the rag out of her mouth, but couldn’t. Dying of thirst, her face swollen and her nose still leaking blood every now and again, she felt bruised everywhere.
Anguished, Madison knew she’d screwed up royally. She should have listened to the Marine captain. Why, oh why, did she let her curiosity get the best of her? She’d been so excited about seeing Afghan horses. She worried about her mother and father. By now, they probably knew she’d been captured. God, she was causing them so much worry and grief. Wanting to be a good representative of the United States, Madison had jumped into this with both feet. Her father felt she could do it. Her mother, Tess, a large-animal vet, had doubts. She worried about Madison being in a country at war.
Misery overwhelmed her. She had no idea what was going to happen to her. Her father always called her a “risk taker.” Yeah, she was, but this time, she’d gone too far.
The horses slowed. Finally, they stopped. Relief flooded her body. Her legs were raw and she could feel her ankles were numb where they’d tied her. The rope was beneath the belly of the horse, and if she fell off, she’d be killed by the horse’s back hooves striking her body and head.
She heard men’s voices speaking in a language she thought was Pashto. Someone untied one ankle. She was yanked roughly off the horse. Madison was allowed to fall to the ground. Her legs collapsed beneath her. Her head struck the ground, dazing her. She was yanked upright, the hood torn off. Blinking, her hair a tangled and unruly mess around her face, she realized it was still night. A man leaned over and untied her mouth. She spat out the rag.
Her arms were numb. She’d felt blood earlier, warm and leaking down her long fingers. Now she felt nothing. Her shoulders ached and burned as she watched her captors lead the horses over to a small pool of water at the bottom of a large, rocky canyon. The quarter moon gave her just enough light to see what was going on.
One man, his eyes black and glittering, came over and untied her hands. He stood with his rifle and threw a bottle of water into her lap.
Madison reached out for the water. Her fingers were numb. Fire shot through her shoulders as she moved toward that precious bottle of water. Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth and then forced her unfeeling fingers around the bottle. It took a minute to unscrew the lid but when the water flowed into her mouth, Madison groaned. She gulped down the water, feeling lightheaded and weak. When she finished it, the man threw her another bottle. She drank three of them before she was sated. Her stomach growled. The last time she’d eaten was at noon. She looked up at the soldier. Cringing inwardly, she noticed the raw hatred in his eyes as he glared down at her.
Madison looked past him and saw all six horses drinking deeply at the pool. Their bodies gleamed with sweat. They’d been pushed hard. As she scanned the area, Madison thought they were in a canyon from what she could make out in the deep shadows. Could she escape? Oh, God, if only she could! Everywhere she looked, it was desolate and desert. Craning her neck, she looked at the group of men standing, their heads together, talking quietly. What were they going to do with her? Where were they taking her?
Her hands began to wake up. She could feel blood coming back into them, the pain almost unbearable. Pushing the hair off her face, she felt close to tears. What had she done? How was she going to get out of this? As she looked up at the soldier guarding her, Madison felt the crushing answer. She wasn’t getting out of this alive. She didn’t know the area. She had no water and no food. These men knew this land because they lived here. Once again, she could only feel dread for what would happen to her. Her one stupid, childish and selfish mistake had landed her here. Tears burned in her eyes and she shut them. Madison didn’t want them to see her cry and she sucked it up, burying it deep within her.
“Get up!”
Madison snapped her head up. Another man in dark clothing stood, his hands on his hips, glaring at her. “Y-you speak English?” she rasped, her voice hoarse.
“Get up!” He gestured sharply to her.
Madison stood on wobbling legs. She saw the expression in the leader’s face, behind the black beard hanging halfway down his narrow chest. He turned and said something to the soldier. They both looked at her.
Suddenly, Madison felt like raw meat for sale, and it scared the bejesus out of her. Were they going to rape her? Oh, God...
“Move!” the man barked, gesturing for her to walk to where the horses stood.
Instantly, Madison moved. Relief shot through her. They weren’t going to rape her. No...no, not that. Dazed, weak from not eating, she was pushed toward the horse she’d been on before. In minutes, her hands were bound behind her once more. Groaning, the pain hot and burning across her shoulders, she was forced back onto the horse. They dragged the rope beneath the horse’s belly and again her ankles were bound. They placed the hood back over her head. The men mounted and the soldier who had guarded her tied the reins of her horse to the back of his saddle. They kicked the animals, moving out at a fast trot.
Madison found it tough to ride in this position. She compressed her lips, looking around but seeing nothing. From earlier, she knew they were moving out of the canyon and back on to the desert floor. Up ahead, huge mountains rose to her right. Where were they taking her? Her mind cartwheeled with terror. Wasn’t anyone going to try to rescue her? Did the Marines even know she was gone? When she didn’t show up at dinner, surely they’d realized something was wrong.
Tears began to leak down her drawn cheeks. Madison was alone. No one knew where she was or what had happened to her. With one stupid decision, her life, as she knew it, was over.
Chapter 2
Travis hissed a curse as he saw six riders coming right around the slope of a mountain. It was barely dawn, grayness tinging the mountain peaks above him. He used the Nightforce scope on his sniper rifle and counted five Taliban riders guarding someone in the center. That had to be Madison Duncan, but he couldn’t positively identify her with a black hood over her head. His eyes narrowed as he watched the horses moving at a swift trot. They were only three miles from the border. He spoke into his radio transmitter.
“Raven Main, Raven Actual. I have the package in my sights.”
“Roger. You are authorized to take action.”
Dammit, this was not going to be easy. Travis moved his scope, checking out the ground between him and the enemy. The Taliban were smart in remaining near the slopes. There was one piece of flat and open land where he could take his shots. Already, he had two more mags of three bullets each beside his left hand. He had to take out five men.
His lips lifted away from his teeth as the group turned in his direction. The woman’s horse had its reins tied to the back of a Taliban soldier’s saddle. That was not good. The possibility of the horse bolting, frightened and wild-eyed, as he started taking his shots, was very real. And with Madison Duncan helpless, there was no way she could jump off even if she wanted to. He saw the rope beneath the horse’s belly, saw her ankles tied to each end of it. Sonofabitch. Travis quickly painted a verbal picture for his master chief.
His heart slowed down because he willed it. Snipers could control their bodies like no one else could. His finger brushed the two-pound trigger on the Win Mag he had shoved against his right shoulder and pressed tight to his cheek. This didn’t look good for the American woman. There was a good possibility that when he shot the rider and he fell off, the horse would leap and run away.
His only recourse was to put a bullet in the head of the fleeing horse to drop it. And when it collapsed, Madison’s horse would more than likely plough into it. The belly rope around her ankles would stop her from being hurled over its head. Madison had no way to safely dismount and would very likely be crushed beneath that thousand-pound horse she rode. These were problems Travis had not expected. No one had. It put her at real risk.
His mind moved at the speed of light. There was little wind this time of morning, which was a plus. The light was getting brighter, and he could now see the group clearly through his sights. Which one to take out first, second, third? He tried to guess what the soldiers would do once they saw one of their friends lifted out of the saddle and punched six feet backward, dead before he hit the ground. The bullets were supersonic, moving faster than the speed of sound. The boom of the Win Mag would follow. That gave Travis time to pump more bullets into the targets before he had to drop the empty mag and slap another one into his rifle. By then, all bets were off. It would come down to the element of surprise and him shooting fast enough so that none of the soldiers could shoot Madison Duncan, once they knew they were under attack. And shoot her they would.
His other concern was that his Win Mag did not have a muzzle suppressor. If one of the soldiers saw the flash of his rifle being fired, they would target him. Travis had no problem with that, but he worried more that the soldiers would scatter to minimize the chances of the rest of them being killed.
This wasn’t going to be easy at all. He’d hoped they’d tie her hands in front of her. Hoped they wouldn’t have put a bag over her head. For a moment, he wondered how much pain she was in, knowing she’d been captured ten hours earlier. She was probably frightened out of her skull. If she got injured, there was no medevac flying in to take her out. It was simply too dangerous for a helo and its four-person crew to come anywhere near this area right now. So it all fell on Travis’s shoulders.
He watched the group move straight toward him. They would be across the half mile of open, flat ground shortly. It would be there that he’d take them down.
Travis was under cover five hundred feet above them, well hidden in the scree, lying prone on his belly. He kept his ruck beside him. His heartbeat slowed even more. His first target would be the rider who had Madison Duncan’s horse in tow. Watching the Taliban spread out more, he smiled a little. These would be one-thousand-yard shots, easy enough to accomplish with the Win Mag. Travis set the dials on the rifle and settled in. There was a point where a person’s breath stopped. It was called the still point, a magical half second lull between the inhale and the exhale. And that was the point where a sniper would shoot.
His finger brushed the trigger. The boom of the rifle jerked and rippled all the way through his body. He didn’t even wait to see if the bullet hit his target, moving to the second and third horsemen. By the time he released the spent mag and slapped in the next one, Travis was settled and situated. He was minimally aware of men flying off their horses. He couldn’t hear anything at this distance, but he saw one horse rear up and then turn to gallop off. Quickly, he sighted on the other two soldiers who were now looking around, fear etched in their faces.
Too late, you bastards. You’re going straight to hell.... And he took the fourth and fifth shots.
Travis leaped to his feet, leaving his rifle behind, jerking the 9 mm Sig Sauer pistol out of his drop holster and hurtled down the scree. Below, five men lay unmoving. The horses, thank God, startled and upset, had moved together, circling one another, wild-eyed. He hit the flat plain and ran hard toward the milling group of anxious horses. He kept his eyes on Madison Duncan who was sitting very still on her horse. She was doing the right thing, Travis thought, pulling up his Sig as he approached the carnage.
His gaze moved swiftly to each of the soldiers. None of them moved. He crooned softly to the horses, walking slowly toward them. The animals milled, snorting, their ears moving back and forth in fear. Okay, the soldiers were all dead. He holstered his pistol and approached to within six feet of the first horse.
“Ma’am?” he called, “I’m Travis Cooper, U.S. Navy. I’m here to rescue you. If you can just sit very still until I can get my hands on the reins of the horse, that would be helpful. Don’t talk. Don’t move. Just slowly nod your head once if you understand me.”
Madison quivered violently, unable to see anything. The soldiers had put the hood back on her head but they hadn’t gagged her. Sweat had covered her as she’d heard men screaming, then nothing. The horses had become frightened. When she’d first heard the loud, booming sound, she knew it was a rifle, but she couldn’t see anything! The man’s Texas drawl brought down her fear just a notch. Her shoulders were still numb. She slowly moved her head forward as he’d requested.
The horse she rode snorted. She could feel the animal tense. Oh, God. Who was this man? Definitely American. Her mouth was dry and she wanted to see him.
Madison sat quietly. She heard his voice again, a soft sing-song as he came closer. Her horse snorted and moved sideways.
“Easy, easy, son,” Travis crooned, not meeting the horse’s eyes, knowing that would threaten him. He approached the horse from the side and slowly eased his hand toward the animal’s sweaty, glistening neck. The horses had been ridden hard and ruthlessly. Their nostrils were wide open, showing red up inside the passages. Travis placed his hand on the horse’s reins, relief shooting through him.
“Ma’am? I’ve got the lead horse’s reins. Now, you just keep sitting quietly, and I’m going to work my way back toward your horse. The reins of your horse are tied on the back of this horse’s saddle. Just slowly nod your head if you understand me.”
Travis moved furtively, constantly crooning to her horse whose eyes were rolling. The animal was skittish, and the last thing Travis needed was for it to bolt. The horse’s nostrils flared, picking up his scent. Travis didn’t smell like the other riders. The horse suddenly planted its front feet, getting ready to bolt.
“Whoa, big guy,” he called to the horse. “No need to bolt, son, just stand down, stand down.” He eased the knot out of the reins. More relief rushed through Travis as he gripped the reins in his left hand.
“Okay,” he told her, “I’ve got your horse’s reins. I’m going to come up beside you and cut off that belly rope.”
He heard her gasp a little. Travis could see her shaking in the saddle. Feeling sorry for the woman, he pulled his KA-BAR from its sheath and quickly sliced the thick rope. Her legs were now free. He slid the knife back into the sheath.
“We’re almost home free, gal,” he told her softly. “I’ve got the horse’s reins in my one hand. I’m going to come up on your left side and slide my arm around your waist. When I do that, I want you to relax, trust me and I’m going to pull you off this horse. Got it?” He looked upward, watched her nod. Heard her erratic breathing.
As he slid his arm around her waist, Travis felt her relax. “Okay, here we go,” he said and then lifted her away from the saddle. She was probably five foot seven and weighed around a hundred and thirty pounds.
Madison groaned and clenched her teeth as he hauled her off the horse. Pain and burning shot through her shoulders. He was strong and tall, that much she could tell. And then she picked up his scent, a combination of sweat and his own unique maleness. Her feet touched the ground and she gave a soft cry as her legs gave way.
Travis gently guided her to sit on the earth. He released the horse and focused on the woman. Taking off the hood, he saw her blond hair was mussed and her blue eyes were filled with pain. Quickly, he moved behind her, unknotting the bonds and releasing her wrists.
“You’re safe,” he rasped, carefully pulling the ropes free. He scowled. Her wrists looked like hamburger; her fingers were covered in dried blood. Rage flowed through him over what they’d done to her. He knelt in front of her.
“Madison Duncan?” he asked, holding her terrified blue gaze.
“Y-yes....” She tried to move her arms, grimacing as she did so.
“Travis Cooper, ma’am.” He kept a hand on her shoulder. “Where are you hurt?”
Madison struggled to speak. “I’m...thirsty....”
He pulled a bottle of water out of a cammie pocket, opened it and handed it to her. “Here you go. Drink your fill.” Well, it wasn’t going to happen. Huge tears formed in her eyes as she tried to move her hands.
“I—I can’t,” she managed. “M-my arms are numb. I can’t feel anything.”
Travis slid his arm around her shoulders. “It’s all right,” he said soothingly. And he placed the lip of the bottle against her mouth. Damn, but she was twenty times better looking than the grainy color passport photo he’d seen of her on his laptop. Her hair was long and slightly wavy, halfway down her back, with streaks of darker blond, cream and more gold colors.
She drank, the water spilling out the corners of her mouth, dribbling down on the dirty tank top she wore.
“Slow down, gal. There’s more where that came from.” He held her eyes, giving her a slight smile meant to help her relax.
Travis kept his hearing keyed. The five booms from a Win Mag would be instantly recognized and any Taliban in the area would know it was an American sniper. The dawn was barely upon them. The sky was indigo and a few stars still blinked above. She finished off the bottle of water.
“Good,” he told her, throwing it away. “Now, talk to me. Where are you hurt?” He prayed like hell she hadn’t been raped. The slope of her left cheek was swollen and there was dried blood around her nostrils and chin. Plenty of blood had spilled on her tank top as well, and Travis knew she’d been hit at least once.
Madison tried to move her hands. Her fingers wouldn’t work. They felt cold and numb. “M-my shoulders and arms hurt.”
“That’s from being tied in that position for so long,” he told her, running his hand across her shoulders. He could feel Madison trembling. And to her credit, she was trying to keep it together. Yeah, she was a Texas gal, through and through.
“They hit me,” she whispered, trying to look up at him through her hair. Lifting her hand, she tried unsuccessfully to push the hair out of her eyes. She saw his bearded face, his dark green eyes narrowed intently upon her. He was dressed in cammies, a boonie hat on his head. His mouth was thinned. Travis Cooper. He’d rescued her. She was safe, alive.
“Anything else?” he asked, trying to steel himself. Her eyes grew cloudy and she quivered in his arms.
“N-no.... Why did they do this?” She searched his hard, weathered face.
“Kidnapping is profitable,” he said. Damn, but she was beautiful. Her eyes reminded him of the dawn sky, a deep cobalt blue. Her pupils were large and black, a thin black crescent curved around the outside of her iris, emphasizing them even more. He gently pushed some of her hair away from her face to hold her gaze. “Look, I need to get you back on a horse. We need to hightail it out of here. I’ve got a cave in mind where we can hide and get out from under the Taliban’s gunsights.” He looked down at her. She reminded him of a disheveled, broken doll. “Can you do that?”
“Y-yes, I can.”
“Good,” he grunted, unwinding and standing. “Stay here. I need to get my ruck and my rifle. I’ll be right back.”
The horses had huddled around them. Travis took off at a fast trot across the flat land toward the scree slope. He knew horses were herd animals. They were used to humans and hopefully would remain with Madison while he picked up his gear. As he ran, he called back to Camp Bravo, giving them information on the package and her present medical condition.
“You’ve got forty Taliban on horseback three miles north of you, heading your direction.”
Yeah, well, Travis had expected the Win Mag would wake up every Taliban in the area. “Roger that.” He filled the master chief in on his escape plan and gave him their GPS position. Travis located his ruck, strapped his Win Mag to the outside of it and pulled the ruck over his shoulders, then swiftly turned and headed down the scree.
In the distance he could see Madison was sitting, her head bowed, her arms hanging uselessly at her sides. God, he felt sorry for her and lengthened his stride, urgency pushing him. Three miles could be covered damn quick by men on horseback.
Madison looked up, watching the Navy man jogging toward her. He was tall, probably at least six feet. And lean, like a starved wolf. It was his oval face, those wide-set green eyes of his and that black beard that made him look hard. He’d just saved her life. Emotions welled up in her. She watched as he slowed to a walk, picked up the reins of one horse and then walked over to the dead soldiers.
What was he doing? She frowned, watching him quickly take off vests, cloaks and trousers from two of them. In no time, he had the clothing strapped on to the back of the saddle. Turning, he walked over to her.
“How are you doing?” he asked, kneeling down, searching her dirty, sweaty face.
“O-okay....” Her heart took off when he gave her a lazy smile. His entire face changed and he almost became handsome.
“Now, you wouldn’t lie to me, would you, darlin’?” He could tell she was rallying beneath his softly spoken endearment. Her mouth...her mouth was meant to be kissed. Full lips, with the corners of her mouth curving naturally upward. Groaning to himself, Travis knew he couldn’t go there.
“I’m okay,” she managed. “I know I look a sight, but—”
“You look beautiful,” he assured her huskily. “I’m going to help you stand. We need to get going.”
He lifted her up by her waist as if she weighed nothing. Madison was surprised because he was lean, not heavily muscled or bulky. When she got to her feet, she grabbed for his upper arms. And then she grunted with pain, her hands falling lifelessly to her sides. To lift her hands above her breasts brought nothing but red-hot pain and burning. She bit back a cry.
“It’s okay,” he rasped, slipping her beneath his arm, holding her close so she had something to lean on. “I’m putting you on this horse. Ready?”
No, she wasn’t ready. Her arms were as useless as if they were stuffed with sawdust, her fingers unable to curve or hold on to anything. Madison felt the tension, knew they were still in danger. “Yes...” she whispered.
He nodded, the look in his eyes giving her strength. Her legs did work and she was able to lift one up and over the saddle. Once she was on the horse, he held the reins up to her.
“I—I can’t hold on to them,” she whispered, distraught. “I’m sorry....”
“No problem,” Travis murmured, patting her thigh. “Just sit tight for a moment.”
Madison watched him walk over to another horse, throw the reins over its head and mount up. This man knew his horses and certainly knew how to ride. He rode back and brought the reins over her horse’s head to hold in his long, large-knuckled fingers.
“You ride?” Travis asked. He knew she did, but didn’t know if she could hold on right now, given what she’d already been through.
“I’ll hang on,” Madison promised grimly, forcing her dead fingers into the horse’s thick mane. He gave her a grin for the first time, a boyish look coming to his features. It filled her with hope.
“Good enough,” Travis murmured, turning the horse around. “We’re going to be moving fast. Got some bad guys coming our way. If you’re having trouble hanging on, yell. I’ll stop and we’ll figure out another plan of action.” He pinned her with his gaze. Travis could tell she was in shock, her blue eyes cloudy, her features stressed and confused.
“Let’s go,” she managed, her voice hoarse. “I’ll hang on.”
Texas steel. Travis nodded. He saw the determination in her eyes, in the set of that luscious mouth, now thinned with purpose. He clapped his heels to his horse. The animal grunted and leaped forward into a canter. The wind whipped by them as Travis followed a slope that gently curved to the west. His horse was tired and he didn’t want to push too hard. Looking over his shoulder, he confirmed that Madison was riding all right. That was a relief. He didn’t want to have to carry her on his horse. That would slow them down way too much.
* * *
Madison thanked God for her steel thighs gripping the horse’s barrel as they galloped in and around mountain slopes. Her hands were nerveless. Her shoulders ached like fire. But from the waist down, she was just fine, moving in sync with her cantering horse. The wind felt good against her face, drying the sweat, the air pure and sweet without that horrible hood over her head.
She watched Travis ride, his body in rhythm with the movement of the horse. Who was he? Navy in the desert? It didn’t make sense. She had so many questions to ask him. Every once in a while, he’d look over his broad shoulder, checking on her to make sure she was all right. Madison felt his protection even though it wasn’t anything she could see with her eyes. And it made her feel safe when she knew they weren’t.
Within an hour, they halted at the entrance to a cave. Madison noticed a series of caves down the length of the mountain. Travis dismounted. Gripping the horse’s mane, Madison forced herself to get off under her own steam. Her knees weren’t strong, but she could stay upright. Travis gave her a glance and she was glad to regain a bit of independence.
“What can I do?” she asked, holding the reins he handed to her.
“Nothing,” he said. He removed the clothes from the rear of his saddle and put everything near the cave entrance. “Stand over there,” he said, pointing to where the clothes were stacked.
Confused, Madison did as he instructed. She watched him lead the horses out beyond the cave entrance and drape the reins over their necks. Her mouth dropped open as he slapped them on the rumps and they went charging off at a gallop.
“What are you doing?” she cried out.
Travis turned. Picking up the clothes, he put them into her arms. “Carry these,” he ordered brusquely. “Go into the cave and stand over there.” He pointed.
Breathing hard, she glared at him. “You just got rid of our transportation! How could you?”
The man scowled, his mouth compressed as he pulled his huge knife from the sheath on his left thigh and chopped a large branch from a nearby bush.
“Stop yelling,” he told her. “Voices carry.” Her eyes widened and she did as she was told but not before giving him a mutinous look. Quickly, Travis used the brushy end of the limb and covered their tracks. Backing into the cave, he kept sweeping them away.
“See that tunnel back there?” He hitched his chin in that direction.
“Yes.” Madison was furious with him. Who the hell did he think he was? He’d just sent off two good horses that could have gotten them to safety! What was he thinking?
“Go over there and wait for me.”
Madison stood on the white, smooth tunnel surface. The tunnel forked to the right and left. The sun was just rimming the Hindu Kush peaks, rays slanting brightly into the cave where Travis was brushing out their footprints. Once he got to her side, he slid his hand beneath her elbow.
“Your arms feeling okay?”
“Yes, I can feel them a little.”
“Can you carry those clothes?”
She felt the piercing gaze of his and looked away, still angry with him. “Yes.”
Travis grunted and pulled out a penlight and handed it to her. “Can you hold this?”
Madison wasn’t sure. Blood was coming back into her fingers and she felt nothing but throbbing pain in them. Their fingers touched momentarily and she clumsily took the small light. “I think so.”
“Get going up that tunnel.” He pointed to the fork he wanted her to take. “We’ve got to go about half a mile on a gentle climb upward. I’ll catch up.”
She gulped and nodded. Why had he chased the horses away? Why? She moved on shaky knees, watching her step on the worn surface. The tunnel darkened until all she saw was the light ahead of her. Everything echoed eerily as she stumbled once, the sound reverberating endlessly.
Where was Travis? Suddenly, Madison felt terrified again. Alone. He was nowhere around. Halting, she almost turned around and went back down the tunnel, but she remembered the hard look in his eyes, the guttural order to start walking. She had to trust him. But why the hell had he let their horses run away? That was crazy!
Madison sensed more than heard someone approaching her. She turned. A gasp tore out of her as she saw Travis right behind her. Heart pounding, she froze.
“You scared me!”
“Sorry,” he murmured, giving her a sheepish look. “I walk silent.”
Gulping, Madison shook.
“Tell you what,” Travis said softly, taking the penlight from her. “You grab hold of my belt here.” He pointed to his left hip. “And I’ll take us the rest of the way up.”
Sliding her fingers around his web belt, she nodded. Madison was more than willing to let him lead. He knew where he was. He started off slowly, cutting his stride in half for her. She was grateful, since her knees were still wonky and her energy was fading. Madison didn’t know what time it was, only that she hadn’t eaten for a long time.
Travis moved up to the right, taking another tunnel. And then the tunnel got very steep and he branched off into another one. He could feel Madison clinging to his belt, heard her breathing in rasps and he slowed even more. They were near eight thousand feet and the air was more rarefied. Texas was flat as a pancake and at sea level. He imagined her lungs felt as if they were on fire right now from the altitude difference. Still, he was pleased she was a fighter and she kept putting one foot in front of the other.
Madison felt woozy. When Travis suddenly halted, she ran into him. And then, she felt her world coming apart, black dots dancing in front of her eyes. “T-Travis,” she whispered, clinging to his belt, “I don’t feel so good.” That’s the last thing Madison remembered saying, the words echoing as if she were very far, far away from them.
Chapter 3
The prick of a needle in her left arm woke Madison up. Blinking groggily, she realized she was lying down on a cave floor. Her eyes focused on the man kneeling over her, putting an IV into her arm.
“Wh—” she croaked.
Travis taped the IV down on the inside of left arm. “You’re dehydrated,” he explained softly. “Just lie still. We’re safe in this cave for now.”
Sunlight was shining brightly from somewhere. Her mind wasn’t functioning. A cave and it was sunny? Madison felt his closeness, that powerful sense of protection emanating from him toward her. His brow was sweaty, his eyes narrowed and mouth pursed. She could smell the sweat on his cammies. Madison stared up into his darkly sunburned face. His black hair was scraggly, not in a military short haircut. Brow wrinkling, she managed, “Who are you?”
His mouth curved a little. “I’m a Navy SEAL, darlin’. Black ops. You heard of us?” He rested his arm on his knee, absorbing her. She was filthy, but then she’d been kidnapped, given too little water and no food, most likely. Travis saw her dark blue eyes wander a bit and then focus on him. Damn, even now, she could turn any man’s head. He reached out, pushing some of that unruly blond hair of hers away from her cheek.
“SEALs? Really? But...I thought you were at sea, not in a desert.”
He smiled a little and pushed the boonie hat off his brow. “We operate on land, sea and air. I’m land bound for now,” he joked. Looking up, he listened for any sounds echoing down the tunnel to indicate nearby Taliban. Travis heard nothing. He focused on the liter IV of Ringer’s lactate that was feeding her electrolytes in order to quickly get her back into a stable condition.
“I—I must have fainted,” Madison muttered, looking around. The cave was huge. She heard water dripping somewhere. The sunlight pierced only so much of the cave, the rest of it was shadowed or grayish-looking to her.
“How long has it been since you ate?” Travis asked.
Already, Madison was feeling better. Less muddled. More focused. “Umm, noon yesterday? I don’t even know what day or time it is.”
He looked at the watch on his wrist. “0800.” And then he saw her puzzled look. “Eight a.m. You were kidnapped at around eight p.m. yesterday evening. You’ve pretty much been in the saddle and tied up for about eleven of those twelve hours.”
He wanted to touch her again but hauled back on his desire. This woman was scared, she’d been beaten and was clearly in shock. She was his responsibility. It was his duty to protect her and see that she made it out of this mess alive and in one piece. “Did you eat at all during that time?”
“No,” she whispered. Looking up, Madison saw a huge IV bag hanging off the cave wall. “Are you a doctor, too?” She knew nothing about SEALs, about black ops. Her world orbited around horses.
Travis took the boonie hat off and ran his fingers through his damp, sweaty hair. “I’m a sniper and a combat corpsman.” He grinned a little. “I kill and I heal, depending on who it is.”
Madison didn’t find that funny at all. “You killed those five men.”
“I had to, or you and I wouldn’t be sitting here discussing it right now.” Travis saw her face turn florid. Yeah, killing got to everyone. He didn’t enjoy it, but sometimes, it had to be done. He put two fingers on the inside of her left wrist. Her pulse was slowing down. Getting fluids into her was working. Her skin was soft and velvety. God, he’d been out in the badlands too long when he could feel himself responding to just touching a woman’s wrist. He released her. “How are you feeling now?”
“Hungry?”
“That’s a good sign.”
“My parents...do they know I’m okay?”
He nodded. “I called my master chief that I’d rescued you. He’ll make sure your parents know you’ve been recovered. I’m sure they’ll notify your husband, too.” He didn’t add that they weren’t out of the woods by a long shot. But he didn’t want her upset; her eyes still conveyed shock. She’d been through hell and Travis didn’t need to stress her out any more.
Closing her eyes for a moment, suddenly emotional, Madison whispered unsteadily, “I’m not married.” Had been, once, but what had she known at eighteen? Not much. At twenty-six Madison was focused on her father’s breeding farm operation. Her two-year marriage had shown her she didn’t have a clue as to how to choose a decent man. She was far better at evaluating horseflesh than she was at evaluating men.
Madison looked up at Travis. “I was so stupid...so stupid.... They told me to never go outside without a Marine guard.” She wiped the tears away. If she was expecting censure, she didn’t see it in the SEAL’s dark, shadowed eyes. Just having Travis near made her feel safer.
“Look, most civilians don’t understand how dangerous it is out here. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Travis reached out and smoothed some of her blond hair off her brow. He sure liked touching her.
For whatever reason, Madison pulled him. Hard. But she was too deep in shock and survival mode to do much else right now, although Travis could see the fear ratchet down just a little more every time he did touch her. He tried to tell himself he was just being a compassionate corpsman. Yeah, right. All he wanted to do was stare at her.
“It was a stupid mistake. I put a lot of people at risk doing what I did. All I wanted to do was go out and look at the Afghan horses in the corral. They were only a hundred feet away from the house.” Madison bit her lip, her voice dropping with despair. “I didn’t think it would harm anything. They were so close and I was dying to get a look at them, at their conformation....”
“Horse crazy,” he murmured, smiling a little. “My folks have a cattle ranch in West Texas and I grew up with quarter horses. I understand your excitement.” Travis could see the anguish in her eyes. “Don’t be hard on yourself. No one’s pointing the finger of blame at you.”
She sniffed and shored herself up. Every time Travis reached out with those long, large-knuckled fingers of his and grazed her hair, her scalp prickled with heat and pleasure. The look in his green eyes threw her off. She almost thought he wanted to... No.
She wasn’t emotionally stable right now. It would be easy to misread his face, his intentions. And yet, she felt such coiled power around him. He appeared casual and relaxed, but her senses, as muddled as they were, told her differently. It was as if he were a big, bristling guard dog watching over her. She was grateful beyond words.
What would it be like to kiss this man? Oh, she was really on emotionally rocky ground, for sure.
“Do you feel like getting something in your stomach?”
Nodding, Madison tried to sit up. To her chagrin, she found herself incredibly weak, as if her body had melted down on her and wouldn’t cooperate. “I hate feeling so powerless,” she muttered, pushing herself upright.
“Dehydration will do it,” Travis murmured. “Here, let me help you.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and propped her up against the cave wall. She was usually grateful for her strength. Someone who worked around horses became pretty physically fit.
Travis settled her against the wall as if she were a lightweight. And he was so close, his face inches from hers for those fleeting seconds. She felt his moist breath across her brow and cheek. So incredibly masculine, his scent drove her to distraction. Yeah, he was as sweaty and dirty as she was, but she found herself inhaling his scent as if it were a cologne. And it was doing wild, unbidden things within her.
Travis sat back on his heels, his hands coming to rest on his long thighs, watching her. Madison was aware of their attraction. He could have moved those scant inches and captured that soft mouth of hers. Kissed her. And she’d seen that awareness flare in his eyes when he’d drawn close to her. Damn, why couldn’t she have been less gorgeous? She watched as he hauled his ruck over and pulled out a protein bar. He handed it to her.
“Try this on for size. You’re in shock and shock does funny things to people,” he said. Their fingers met. Heat flared inside her. Travis added, “People get real emotional and they feel out of sorts. You probably will, too.”
“Thanks,” Madison whispered, her whole hand tingling. Travis had a working man’s hands. They were large, powerful and she saw so many new and old scars across them. When he’d handed her the protein bar, she’d noticed the thick calluses on his palm. Inwardly, her breasts tightened and she felt heat plunge into her womb. The man could melt her with his thoughtful green gaze.
“Take it easy eating it,” Travis warned her, pushing to his feet. He walked over and picked up his M-4 rifle, which was leaning against the wall. “I’m going to check things out and I’ll be back in about half an hour. You rest, okay?” The sunlight was making her blond hair gleam with gold, wheat and tawny highlights. How badly Travis wanted to slide his hand through her hair, feel the weight of it, smell it and allow the strands to glide through his fingers. Disgusted with himself, he left, making his way down the dark tunnel. He knew this area well and didn’t even bother turning on a penlight to show him the way.
What the hell was going on here? His mind spun with its own kind of shock. Okay, he’d been out here with his platoon for four months. There weren’t any opportunities to meet a woman at Camp Bravo, for damn sure. The women at the FOB were either Apache combat pilots or medevac pilots. Being on deployment was like turning into a monk. Until Madison dropped into his life. Hell.
Madison was sleeping when Travis returned. He entered the cave silently and saw her with her head on her arm, curled up in the fetal position against the wall. His heart twisted in his chest. He placed his weapon against the wall, took off his boonie and shed his gear. His gaze never left hers. That long, thick blond hair framed part of her face; her lashes rested against her pale cheeks. He grimaced and kicked himself for not thinking about giving her a sleeping bag. The IV was empty so he pulled on a pair of gloves and walked over to where she slept.
Feeling the pinch in her left arm, Madison dragged her eyes open. “Umm,” she managed. His fingers were on her arm, removing the IV.
“Sorry to wake you,” he said huskily. “IV’s done and I need to get your arm patched up.”
He tried to ensure his hands were tender. She closed her eyes, as if simply absorbing him. “I must have dozed off,” she said, her voice sounding wispy.
Travis dropped the IV at his side and pulled out a large Band-Aid, which he placed on the inside of her arm. “You’ll sleep a lot,” he told her. “Best way to get rid of shock is to sleep.” He watched her eyes open and God help him, he wanted to drown in that dark blue gaze. Her lips were soft, parted, and it would be so easy to brush that full lower one with his thumb. Travis thought reconnoitering for half an hour to make sure the Taliban had followed the horses would snap him back into his focus. But it hadn’t.
“I’m thirsty,” Madison whispered, watching him get up. “Is there more water?”
She noticed the frown on his face, the look in his green eyes. She swore she could feel him wanting her, man to woman. It must be the shock. Pushing up into a sitting position, she dragged the mass of hair across her shoulders. She felt so dirty, the grit rubbing inside her clothing, making her feel absolutely miserable.
Travis pulled another bottle from his ruck, opened it and handed it to her.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
Travis busied himself, pulling out his sleeping bag and unrolling it. He shook it out and opened it up so she’d have something to sit on besides dirt. Silently, Travis gave Madison credit. She wasn’t complaining. There was determination in her face. The woman had backbone. Out here, that counted.
She’d finished off the bottle of water—now he needed to get some food into her. Grabbing the empty bottle and some purification tablets, he walked over to the dripping water in the rear of the cave. There was a small pool of icy water, snowmelt coming off the mountain above them. He dropped the tablets into the empty bottle and filled it with water.
Madison sat on the soft, thin sleeping bag, grateful to be off the dirt. She watched, curious about everything Travis did. He seemed far away or preoccupied. When he sat down, crossing his legs and hauling his MRE into his lap and giving her hers, she screwed up the courage to ask him a question.
“Why did you let our horses go? I thought they were our way to escape.”
Travis opened the spaghetti. “We’re twenty-two miles from Camp Bravo, the nearest American forward operating base. There are several Taliban groups searching for us right now. I slapped the horses and made them leave because I was hoping the Taliban would follow their tracks. They’d lead them away from where we’re hiding. I’ve checked twice since we got here, and that’s what they did. They’re following those two horses to God knows where—and I don’t care where, so long as it’s far away from us.”
Madison felt like an idiot. “Oh,” she whispered. Lifting her head, she met his warm green gaze. “I was really pissed.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed her brow, feeling the grit beneath her fingers. “I seem to be saying that a lot with you.”
“You’re in an alien environment. I don’t expect you to know what’s going down. Just trust me, though, Madison, to get you home safely. All right?” Travis pinned her with a hard look. Her expression grew apologetic and he felt bad. Being out as a sniper for weeks on end, he wasn’t used to diplomacy. He was usually alone in a dangerous place with only his wits, his knowledge and hunting skills to keep him alive. “Don’t mind me,” he said. “I’m a little more tired than usual.” It was as close to an apology as she was going to get.
“I’ve been a real pain in the ass.”
She had a nice butt, no doubt about it, but Travis couldn’t go there and say anything. Right now, Madison was embarrassed and trying to find a way to make up for her anger about the horses. She’d stopped eating and Travis needed her to get her energy back as soon as possible. “My master chief said your father owned a horse farm in College Station?” Maybe getting her mind off her mistakes and on to something positive would help her rally.
“Yes, my father was on the Olympic cross-country team a few decades ago. He’d always wanted to bring Trakehners to the U.S., and he and my mom made it happen.”
“I don’t know much about the breed,” he said. “Quarter horses I know.”
“Texas is quarter horse central,” Madison agreed. “Trakehners are a European breed, very tall, beautiful and intelligent. They’re often bred to Arabians, Thoroughbreds and other warm-bloods to improve them.”
“And that’s why you were with that American delegation?”
Nodding, she began to eat once again. “Yes. My father was invited to go along but he broke his ankle and he asked me to go instead.” Chewing on her lower lip, she scowled. “I’m sure he’s sorry about it now.” Madison felt terrible for disappointing her father. They had put such high hopes on this journey to Afghanistan.
“I’m sure he’s relieved you’re safe,” Travis murmured, no doubt seeing the pain in her eyes.
Madison knew her father would be dismayed. Wanting to cry, feeling horribly vulnerable, she choked it all back down inside herself. Travis had done enough for her. He was charged with her safety. He didn’t need a crybaby on his hands, to boot. “You said your parents have a cattle ranch?”
“Yeah, Rush Springs. I grew up there and was a cowboy until me and my football buddies joined the military.” Travis smiled fondly. “I had six buddies on the football team, and we called ourselves the Sidewinders. Our team took the Class A football title for Texas and we were just this Podunk town out in the middle of scrub brush, desert and cactus.”
“You guys must have been really good,” Madison said, watching his face relax. It was a secret pleasure to watch him eat, the way his lips moved, sending heat sheeting down through her like a lightning strike. And his hands... What would they feel like, moving across her body? There was gentleness in him. He might have to kill the enemy, but his touch with her was always tender. She was shocked at her own sexual hunger for him. It was wrong, and she felt torn and guilty. He was more than likely married to a beautiful woman and had a couple of kids.
“We were a force to be reckoned with,” Travis agreed amiably. “All my buddies joined different branches of the military the day after we graduated. And we all ended up in black ops.” He smiled a little. “I just saw Duke Carmichael, one of the Sidewinders, a couple of months ago. We crossed paths at Bagram. He’s a black ops Air Force CCT, communications specialist. I was deploying into Afghanistan for six months and he was just leaving on another assignment. When we do cross paths, we catch up on one another’s lives.”
“Six months over here?”
“Yeah. SEALs are on a two-year cycle. We spend eighteen months back in the States and most of the time we’re renewing our skills, taking courses in our area of expertise and learning new weapons systems. Then, the last six months is rotation over here. I’m with Seal Team 3 and we’re always deployed to the Middle East. Other Seal teams take care of different parts of the globe.”
“I didn’t realize,” Madison admitted. “How do your wife and kids handle you being gone so much?”
He raised a brow and gave her an amused look. “SEALs have a ninety percent divorce rate. I’m in that statistic because I’m a SEAL.”
Her heart pounded a little. “Well, then,” she stumbled, “your girlfriend? A significant other?”
Travis just shook his head and paid attention to eating his MRE. “I have a lousy track record,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry,” Madison said quietly, holding his gaze. “You’re a hero in my eyes. That shouldn’t mean you have to be so alone.”
His heart squeezed unexpectedly beneath her sincere voice and expression. He could entertain having her as his woman, no problem at all. But as with all the rest of his experiences, women in his life went one way and he went the other.
“You get used to it,” Travis said, avoiding her searching blue gaze. The woman could melt rocks with those eyes of hers. Hell, she was melting him and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Did Madison know her own feminine influence over him? Oh, in his high school days, because he was part of a star football team, he hadn’t wanted for girls. Every cheerleader had set their sights on the Sidewinders. And Travis had enjoyed his high school years. “Why aren’t you hooked up with a guy?” he asked.
Blinking over the blunt question, Madison shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe too many hours of training our horses and showing them? Running a breeding facility?” She opened her hands and added, “I love what I do, Travis. There aren’t a whole lot of single guys my age that are in the horse business. Most horse farms and breeding facilities are family run.”
“What do you like to do for fun?” He had images of her jumping into a river and skinny-dipping. Madison might seem shy, but he’d seen her strength under fire. He liked her way too much. She was appealing to him. Somehow, this blond-haired beauty was turning his world upside down and making him think differently about settling down.
Shrugging, Madison said, “You’ll laugh at me.”
“No, I won’t.”
The sparkle of life came to her eyes for the first time and it damn near stole his breath. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes were so alive. An ache, a really crippling ache, grabbed hold of his lower body. Would Madison look at him like that as he made love to her? His mind and his body rocked on that heated, dangerous question. “Tell me.”
“I have two passions in my life,” she said, feeling his genuine interest, feeling warmed by that intense look that made her yearn to kiss him. “I love my horses but my hobby is sort of boring by a lot of people’s standards. My mom, who is a large-animal vet, taught me quilting when I was a teen. I love making quilts for the elderly. I belong to a local women’s quilting club and we get together once a week to work on our latest quilt to help those who have so little.”
“Are you a throwback to another era and age?” Travis wondered aloud. “My grandmother quilted. My mother never picked it up, too busy raising us kids on a cattle ranch.”
“Maybe the word old-fashioned fits me, then?” Madison felt shy and broke away from his burning gaze. God, she felt like the man had X-ray vision and could undress her with his eyes. She didn’t feel threatened, but rather, desired. Very desired. Was something going on between them, something invisible? Whatever it was, she felt shaky, needy and hungry. Granted, Travis Cooper was a man’s man. There was no strutting. No bragging. He was quiet. Confident. She’d not met many men like him. And it drew her powerfully.
Old-fashioned.
Yeah, Madison certainly was. Travis smiled a little to himself as he finished off his meal. Madison seemed uncomfortable about admitting it to him. The Texas girls he grew up with were strong-willed and knew what they wanted. And they didn’t apologize for chasing him or his other friends to get their attention. He watched her nervously move her fingers clasped in her lap. “So, you were born in Texas?”
“Yes.”
“Horses consumed your life from when you were a little girl onward?”
“How did you know?” Madison was shaken by his insight into her.
“Just a guess,” Travis murmured, giving her a slight smile, trying to put her at ease. At least she’d eaten her meal and that was a positive start. Putting his MRE away, he said, “I’ve got a towel, washcloth and soap in my ruck.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the pool. “That’s glacial water and it’s damned cold, but you could strip out of those ruined clothes of yours, get washed and cleaned up. I’ve got some shampoo somewhere that I can scare up so you can wash your hair.” He saw her sudden response, hope coming to her eyes.
“Really? Oh, I’d give anything to get clean.” Madison wrinkled her nose, opening her hands, the fine silt and grit on them.
“I thought so,” Travis said, unwinding and walking to his ruck. Rummaging around, he found the items and set them on the sleeping bag near her leg. He added a clean T-shirt and a set of his trousers for her to wear because her clothes were torn and ruined. “I’m going to go check out our environs. Be back in about an hour, maybe a little less. Will that give you the time you need?”
Madison nodded. “Yes, thank you.” And tears suddenly sprang to her eyes. “I don’t mean to cry,” she whispered, trying to push them off her cheeks.
“Hey,” Travis growled, kneeling down next to her. He cupped her face, lifting her chin just enough to look deeply into her marred gaze. “Never apologize for tears, darlin’. You’ve been through a lot.” And dammit, he was going to kiss her if he didn’t stop right now. Dropping his hands, he gave her an apologetic look and stood up. He had to leave or they were both in trouble. Walking over to his M-4, he picked it up and threw the boonie hat onto his head. “I’ll see you later.”
Shaken, Madison could still feel the warm, callused hands cupping her jaw. His mouth had been inches from hers. Her breath had snagged, her pulse skyrocketed as he surprised her with his unexpected attention. Closing her eyes, she pressed her palms to them, feeling shaken, a quiver rocking through her womb. She released a huge sigh, then scrubbed her eyes and slowly stood up. Her skin burned with pleasure where his hands had slid across her jaw, holding her, looking so deeply into her eyes. She didn’t know what to do. Her world had turned upside down last night. Madison was still cartwheeling emotionally, unsure of herself.
Getting the towel, wash cloth and soap, she walked slowly over toward the pool that now glinted with sunlight. Her heart was pounding. And it wasn’t out of fear. She wanted Travis to kiss her. And then what?
Chapter 4
Travis moved silently into the cave an hour later. He saw Madison standing in the sunshine, looking up through the hole in the cave roof at the blue sky above. His body went on red alert. His T-shirt did nothing but emphasize her breasts and slender body. The trousers were far too large on her, bulky, and she’d rolled them up as best she could around her ankles. But that T-shirt... He took a deep breath, grappling with his desires.
“Hey,” he called, letting her know he’d come back. Madison started and jerked in a breath. “God, you scared me!” She placed her hand against her wildly pounding heart. Travis gave her a look of apology as he placed his rifle against the wall. He was sweating, his skin glistening, that hard look on his face. Only his eyes softened as he shed his gear and stripped down to his T-shirt and cammies. The man had a body that simply took her breath away.
“Sorry,” he said, meaning it. He walked over to her and frowned. “I thought you were going to wash your hair.”
Madison made a face. “I didn’t want to sound like a whiner,” she admitted self-consciously. “My shoulders... I can’t lift my arms above my chest to wash my hair. It’s too painful.”
Frowning, Travis reached out, his large hands covering her shoulders, feeling around the joints. “They’re screwed up because your hands were tied behind your back for eleven hours straight.” She flinched a little when he took her arm and slowly started to raise it. Lowering it, Travis shook his head. “You might have torn rotator cuffs.” If that was so, she would be unable to lift her arms very high at all. It would take a good four to six weeks until she could lift her hand over her head once again.
“That’s not good if they’re torn,” she muttered, wildly aware of his body, how close he was to her, the care burning in his eyes. Even as he examined her shoulder joints, it sent streams of pleasure through her.
“There’s nothing I can do except give you Motrin for the pain,” he told her, reluctantly releasing her. Travis stepped back because if he didn’t, he was going to kiss that mouth of hers. “Want to live dangerously?” he asked, grinning down at her as he placed his hands on his hips.
Puzzled, Madison stared up into his face. All that game face had melted away. The man who stood in front of her right now was pulverizingly sexy. Sensuality dripped off him. “Aren’t we doing that already?”
He chuckled. “I’m used to it. This is an ordinary day for me out here in the badlands.” He lifted his hand and gently caressed the tangled strands. “Let me wash your hair for you.”
Stunned, Madison blinked. “You?”
Travis shrugged. “Why not? I can position the bag and the ruck over there by the pool and get you to lie down. All you have to do is hang your head over my ruck and I can wash your hair.” Travis felt the heat flowing to his lower body. What would it be like to touch that mass of golden hair? He’d literally been itching to thrust his hands through it, to feel it. Madison looked thoughtful.
“I’d love to get my hair washed,” she admitted, hesitant. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind doing it?” Just the idea of the intimacy of the act sent her pulse racing. She saw amusement in his eyes, that mouth of his relaxed, corners hitched upward. Being touched, really touched by Travis, sent crazy signals all through her body.
“Naw, piece of cake. I used to wash our quarter horses all the time, scrub them down, clean them up.”
Madison laughed softly and shook her head. “I’m hardly a horse, but I get the drift. I’ll do almost anything to get that horrible grit out of my hair. It’s driving me up a wall.”
She was driving him up a wall, but it wasn’t her fault. Travis nodded. “Okay, so let me get the bag and ruck over there.”
“Do you have a comb? A brush?”
“No brush. But I do have a comb in my ruck.”
“Shoot,” she muttered. “Even if you did, I can’t lift my hands high enough to comb my hair out.”
“I’ll do it for you.”
Madison watched him walk to the bag, pick it up and shake it out. Travis was not only going to wash her hair, but comb it? That sent a streak of heat down her body. She wavered, wishing she could stop wanting him. Travis had done nothing to indicate he wanted her. Except for that look in his eyes. That intense stare, that hunger she swore she felt coming from him, embracing her.
Closing her eyes, Madison wasn’t sure if she was going to cry or scream. For the hour he’d been gone, her emotions were flying around and she’d barely held on to them. Shock. God, she never realized what shock did to a person until now.
Still, Madison wanted her hair washed no matter what her feelings were doing. As Travis got everything in place, she forced herself to walk over to the pool. He was kneeling next to the ruck, his hands on his long, hard thighs.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said, giving him an unsure look.
“I want to do it.” Travis patted the ruck. “Come on, lie down. Head here and I’ll hold you.”
Madison chewed on her lower lip and finally eased down to her hands and knees on the sleeping bag. “You’re sure going above and beyond the call of duty on this one, Travis.”
He gave her a bemused look and watched as she lay on her back. “SEALs are used to doing just about anything to survive in the badlands. We think outside the box. I never thought I’d put washing and combing a woman’s hair on my list of things I could do.”
When she put her head over the ruck, Travis curved his hand beneath her long, slender neck, cupping the back of her head. At first she was stiff.
“Relax,” he urged, picking up an aluminum cup he kept in his ruck.
Madison eyed him worriedly and then dutifully closed her eyes. His gaze moved across her body. Her full breasts definitely gave his T-shirt new meaning. Her nipples pushed against the fabric. Madison was a curvy woman, not a stick-like model. He preferred his women with some meat on their bones, the softness of their curves, molding them beneath his hands.
Shutting off his desire, he absorbed the luxury of guiding her hair into the water, watching the flaxen colors become even darker. Her hair was so long, the strands so thick. He slid his fingers to the nape of her neck, easing the strands outward into the water. God, it was a delicious sensation feeling those smooth, thick strands moving like molten gold across the water, sliding through his fingers like wet silk. He felt himself harden and forced himself to focus. He dipped the cup in the water.
“This is going to be ice cold,” he warned her.
“Oh, I already know that.” Madison laughed, sliding her hands across her belly and linking her fingers. “I didn’t care. It just felt so good to be clean.”
Yeah, he knew that one. “Okay, give me your trust,” he coaxed. Travis felt her relax more and finally, she allowed him to hold her head and neck fully. Trust. He wanted to tell her she shouldn’t trust him. Thank God she couldn’t read his mind. She’d never have relaxed in his hand at all. As he ladled the water across her head, her breath hitched for a moment.
“Told you it was cold,” he said wryly, wetting her hair. As he looked at the strands beneath the sunlight lancing across the cave, he admired the different colors.
Madison grimaced. “It is, but I’m so grateful you’d do this for me.” And she was. His long fingers easily held her neck and her head. The water was stinging and took away from the pleasure she felt with his fingers upon her flesh.
“This will be a story you’ll tell your kids someday,” he joked, getting her hair completely wet. After setting the cup aside, he took the bottle of shampoo and drizzled it across her head.
“I wish I didn’t have a story to tell at all,” she admitted, frowning, feeling the stroke of his fingers begin to wreak another kind of magic. Oh! His massaging fingers made her purr. And then, to her consternation, her nipples hardened. Oh, no. There was nothing Madison could do about it, the slivers of heat radiated from her head to her breasts and then dove farther down. The man’s touch was scorching. Unsettling. Never had Madison felt this way, her body responding hotly to his firm touch.
“I can’t blame you for that. You went through hell,” Travis said, sad for her, but not missing the hint of attraction between them. Her hair was oozing with bubbles, his fingers sliding across her scalp and he watched as she utterly relaxed, lips parting, enjoying his caress. Once he’d thoroughly cleaned her hair, he began to massage her scalp. His erection was killing him. He ached to shift, to relieve the pain. Damn.
“Your hair is so thick. Like a horse’s mane,” Travis teased, trying to get his mind off his own anatomy. Impossible, but he was going to try.
Madison smiled a little. “Spoken like a true Texas boy.”
Laughing, he nodded. “That didn’t exactly come out right. You have beautiful hair, thick and silky.”
“My mother has thick blond hair. I got lucky and inherited her gene.” She wanted to groan with pleasure as he continued to carefully and thoroughly wash her hair. He’d probably take her groan as a sign of pain, not pleasure, so she bit down on her lower lip to keep quiet.
“You doing all right?”
“Umm, yes...it feels...wonderful.”
Travis smiled. Wonderful? Hell, this was foreplay in his book. Her face went soft, her lips ripened. All he wanted to do was cup her chin, angle her toward his mouth and kiss her until they melted into each other. He quickly rinsed away all the soap, her hair obviously clean even in the pool of water.
“I’m going to ease you into a sitting position and get your hair wrapped up.” He grabbed the towel.
Madison sat up as he wound the towel around her long, wet hair. She smiled to herself. His care made her heart open wide with ribbons of happiness. His slight awkwardness was touching to her.
Travis pushed the ruck out of the way, and with one hand on the towel, he got Madison to turn around. “I’m going to lean up against the cave wall and you’re going to sit between my legs. I’ll dry your hair enough to run a comb through it.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice a little breathless. She felt him sit down and saw his long, hard legs appear on either side of her. She sensed his heat, smelled him and his hands moving with luxurious slowness to dry her hair. Thick, wet strands fell around her face and shoulders. Madison smiled softly. Travis was all thumbs, but who cared? The fact he’d do this for her made her want him even more.
After placing the damp towel around her shoulders, Travis pulled the comb out of his cammie pocket. Madison sat straight, legs crossed, her hands in her lap. Easing his fingers through that dark blond mass, Travis urged it across her proud shoulders until all of it hung like molten gold between her shoulder blades. He went to work to tame it.
“Start at the ends,” Madison told him, “and work your way up.”
Travis nodded. “I can take apart my M-4 blindfolded and put it back together again but when I see the tangles and snarls in your hair I don’t have a clue.” He laughed.
“You’re doing fine,” she whispered, closing her eyes. Her scalp prickled and tingled with sparks of heat when his fingers accidentally grazed her. It felt so good. So...intimate. So hot. Madison could feel dampness collecting between her thighs and groaned to herself. She wanted to lift her hand and skim it down his hard, long thigh, wanting to feel his muscles leap, feel his response. Did he feel it, too?
Travis forced himself to focus on just her hair. God knew, he wanted to do so much more. And all too soon, her hair lay wet and gleaming, slightly curled, halfway down her back. In a selfish move, he slid his hands beneath the heavy curls and lifted them to his face, inhaling their fragrance. The fire within him expanded exponentially, making him clench his teeth for a moment until he wrestled himself back under control. Gently allowing her hair to lie against her back, he struggled and took in a deep, ragged breath.
“Could you braid it?”
Travis froze for a moment, caught up in the blaze within his body. “Braid?” he managed, his voice gruff sounding.
“I always plait my hair into one long braid. That way it’s out of my way.” Madison twisted a look over her shoulder. The expression in his eyes was raw, hungry. And just as swiftly, that burning look was gone. Her lips parted and Madison felt suddenly shaky, understanding more was going on than she realized.
“Yeah, I can braid it. Sort of like braiding a horse’s tail,” he said.
Oh, hell. He’d blown it! Madison’s expression told him everything. Travis wrestled inwardly with himself. His desire clashed with his sense of what was right and wrong. And he was acting more like a teenager than a grown, mature man. Worse, she’d caught him at it. So much for SEAL stealth, right? Furious with himself, Travis softened his voice. “Well, maybe not a horse’s tail, but you know what I mean?”
Madison wisely turned around. “I know what you mean,” she whispered. Unsure, she sat primly, shoulders thrown back, spine straight, hands in her lap. Her heart yearned for him even more now. Madison felt him divide her hair into three thick plaits, confidently weaving her hair into that braid she’d asked for.
“Do you have sisters?”
Travis frowned. “No. Can you tell?” he asked wryly, looking up and seeing her profile and her lips curving.
“No, not really.”
“How about you? Sisters? Brothers?” His fingers felt on fire, wanting desperately to maintain contact with her. Travis frowned, knowing he wasn’t controlling himself as much as he wished he could. Somehow, Madison had crawled into his heart, his body and innocently staked a claim on him.
“No, only child.”
“What will you do once we get you out of here?”
“Go back to the ranch. Tell my parents how sorry I am I screwed this up for them.”
Travis always carried string in one of his pockets. He let the braid sit against her back, dug out the string, cut off a piece of it with his KA-BAR and then tied it around the end of her braid to hold it in place. “I think they’re going to be far happier to see you home than be angry about it,” he told her. “There. Your braid is done.”
Madison turned around between his long legs and sat back on her heels. She pushed her damp palms against the cammies she wore. “Thank you. You have no idea how good it makes me feel.”
He wanted to feel, all right. Her. Every square inch of her flesh. Explore her. Feel her react to him. Listen to happy sounds caught in her throat as he pleasured her. Travis met and held her sincere and grateful blue gaze.
Madison looked like the girl next door, some shorter curls soft and dried at her temples, giving her a mussed appearance. She needed no makeup. Nothing. Her cheeks were flushed pink and that mouth of hers damn near did him in. Forcing himself to get up, Travis said, “Glad to be of help.”

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