scarred fingers. She stood near Security at the airport, her ruck over her shoulder, dressed in her Navy blue cammies. It hurt to look in his eyes, his SEAL mask well in place, no hint of emotion anywhere in his expression. Bay knew better. Her body radiated hotly beneath his stormy look, felt it in the tenderness of his fingers as he rubbed them against her own.
They had slept in one another’s arms, woken up, loved one another again with a desperation that chased reality away for just a few hours longer. And this morning, at dawn, the sun barely edging the Pacific Ocean, he’d made hard, swift passionate love with her one last time. Feeling exhausted in a good kind of way, Bay managed a sweet smile as she tugged at Gabe’s fingers, silently asking him to release her. For an instant, she saw the fear, the anxiety in his expression, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from her.
As she turned, Bay raised her hand and placed it against his jaw, sought the hard line of his mouth, kissed him with everything she had. She felt consumed within the powerful curve of his descending mouth, his strong arms coming around her this one, last time. Heart pounding, tears in her eyes, Bay could barely control her wildly fluctuating emotions. She didn’t want to leave Gabe. But she had to.
Gabe reluctantly released her mouth, both of them breathing hard. God, he had to let her go. He had to release Bay from his grip. Gabe was peripherally aware of people turning, watching them. He could give a damn about them. Was their loved one going into combat where a bullet could sever her life in a heartbeat? Hell, no! He swallowed hard, anger warring with his love for Bay, the lump large and painful in his throat. He couldn’t stop looking at her, for fear she’d disappear too soon. He loved her silently in those few seconds between them. Her smile for him was so loving and innocent that it staggered Gabe. Her smile filled him with love, and it pumped hope through his heart that ached with real fear for her safety. And then...Gabe released her soft, long fingers from his...one last touch...one last time....
Oh, God...
Bay turned away. If she didn’t, Gabe would see her tears. And she knew with great certainty, it would tear him apart. No, she couldn’t let Gabe see her like this. Fighting herself, Bay gulped and moved into the Security line, quickly swallowed up by other passengers crowding in behind her. She could feel his eyes on her back, feel his love encircling her. It was crazy, but she could feel it as easily as she felt her breath raggedly drawing in and out of her lungs.
Only when she’d passed through Security, did Bay get a hold of herself enough to turn and look back at him. Gabe stood alone now, his hands at his sides. He wore a dark blue T-shirt that showed off his powerfully lean upper body, his jeans barely hiding how sexual and sensual he was to her. His face... Oh, Lord, his face was so hard. She understood he had to be that way or he’d break down, too. Lifting her hand, she touched her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss. It was all she could do, now separated and unable to run back into one another’s arms.
Bay saw Gabe lift his hand in acknowledgement and then gave her a hand signal they’d created between themselves. He lifted his hand, placed it over his heart and then extended his hand outward toward her. A deep love welled up through her, giving her strength at the last minute. She repeated that silent hand signal back to him and then watched as his hard expression dissolved into a slow, male smile filled with so much heat and love for her. She was his. Gabe owned her heart and soul, and he knew it. And so did she.
Turning on her boot, Bay walked down the long corridor that would take her by commercial flight to Seattle Sea-Tac International Airport. From there, she’d hop an Air Force C-5 going across The Pond, the Pacific. They’d stop in Hawaii, refuel and then fly to Bagram Air Base near Kabul, Afghanistan. And then, she’d find a medevac or Black Hawk heading out to Camp Bravo, hitch a ride and find her Special Forces team that she’d join.
As she forced herself to walk away, put space between Gabe and herself, Bay touched a leather thong around her neck, hidden beneath her cammie blouse. Gabe had fashioned a small sterling silver ring on the top of the jaguar’s back. He’d strung a fine, thin piece of sturdy leather so she could wear it around her neck while in Afghanistan. The jaguar lay over her heart.
A fist of serrating grief shoved up through her, and her throat tightened painfully. Head down, Bay tried to hide the tears that fell out of her eyes and down her taut, pale cheeks. At least, Gabe had not seen her cry this time...
CHAPTER SIX
“REZA!”
Reza turned. His eyes widened enormously where he stood within the Shinwari village. “Is that you, Baylee?” His mouth dropped opened as she waved enthusiastically at him, jogging toward him in Special Forces cammies, her medical rucksack on her back. His smile increased as she drew near. Happiness danced in her blue eyes as she halted, taking off her soft cover and grinning at him.
“It’s so good to see you again!” Bay said in Pashto to her old friend. She said to hell with Muslim protocol because she’d worked with this man two times before. He accompanied U.S. black ops as a tracker and interpreter. “Can I hug you?”
Reza, who was in his middle thirties, giggled. He opened his arms. “I know how to be an American! Come here!” He laughed, striding up to her and throwing his arms around her.
Bay hugged her Afghan friend tightly. Tears came to her eyes as she stepped back from him. “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t know you were here. Are you staying long?”
He wiped tears from his eyes, too. Reza had worked with Special Forces near the border with Pakistan with her two years earlier. He knew the Hindu Kush mountains, their thousands of caves and the goat paths so instrumental in tracking down Taliban, better than anyone else. His family had been slaughtered by Sangar Khogani, a Hill tribal warlord, several years earlier. His wife and five children had been cut down before the guns and curved knives of the brutal Taliban. Since then, Reza had pledged his life to helping the Americans eradicate the Taliban from his beloved country.
“I will be here for a while, yes.” He shook his head. “You look beautiful in my eyes, Baylee. Something must have happened since I last saw you. You are better filled out, not so starved-looking as last time. And I see happiness in your eyes. Tell me, what has happened?”
Bay looked around the village where she was to remain for the next six months. “I’m engaged to a very good man, Reza. We’re going to be married when I get off this rotation.” She sighed. “He’s wonderful, Reza. Gabe is...well...I just never thought I’d ever meet someone like him.” She smiled softly, missing Gabe so badly. “I’ve just gotten off a helo from Camp Bravo and have to go see Captain Drew Anderson. He’s the head of the SF team here. After that, let’s have tea and catch up.”
“Of course, of course,” he murmured. “Come, I’ll show you where the team is staying. So, you are replacing the medic they lost?”
Nodding, Bay shortened her stride for Reza. He was only five feet four inches tall. “Yes, I have to give him my orders. And then I’m sure he’ll give me his orders.” She laughed.
Originally, Reza had made a living as a cobbler, making shoes for his and other villages. He was greatly loved in the valley near the border. Not the leader of the village, but his kindness toward all earned him a special place in the hearts of everyone. And when she’d met him two years ago and worked six months with him, they’d become fast forever friends.
Bay’s heart lifted with joy because Reza was someone she could honestly talk to. He was a trusted adviser, worked as a terp, interpreter, and was often asked to lead black ops teams into the Hindu Kush to hunt down HVTs, high value targets. The Taliban had a high price on Reza’s head. They wanted him badly because he knew the Hindu Kush
