first woman who walked by to attack her? Had Blue Eyes been at the wrong place at the wrong time?
Ethan cupped her left elbow. “Come on,” he urged her quietly. “I’ll take you to your tent. Just give me directions.” He felt a shift, as if his whole life was about to change.
Chapter 2
Sarah felt her knees going. Again. God, why couldn’t she just tough this one out? The SEAL who had intervened and saved her hide swiftly reacted. In seconds, he’d picked her up and brought her into his arms.
“Put me down,” she ordered angrily.
“Can’t do it, ma’am. I’m taking you to the medical dispensary.”
Ethan’s voice was low and firm. His arms were strong. Sarah closed her eyes, fighting the urge to simply surrender to him. The rage she felt over the attack was dissolving as the adrenaline slowly left her system. She was exhausted and, worse, weak. A feeling she hated more than anything.
“You can relax,” Ethan told her, his lips near her hair. “There’s a time to fight and a time to take a step back and reassess the situation.”
Sarah also felt needy, which was so unlike her. His voice was soothing, and the anxiety rushing through her abated. He carried her easily, as if she were a feather, and yet Sarah knew she was no lightweight. As she held his green bandanna over her nose, the blood continued to leak out of her nostrils. Her nose burned like fire and her head throbbed.
She looked up at him. He glanced down at her. His beard, although well trimmed, made him look even more dangerous to her. His eyes were a light gray with large black pupils, like those of a raptor.
“Doing okay?” Ethan asked her in a conversational tone.
“I’ve had better days,” Sarah muttered. She saw the corners of his mouth lift slightly. There was such tightly held tension in him. She’d seen him move so damn swiftly when he saw what was happening to her; it left her stunned. He was grace, tension and power all in one decisive action. “You’re a SEAL?”
“Yeah.” Ethan laughed to himself. He hid a part of himself from his SEAL brethren; he journaled and, sometimes, wrote poetry to express what he saw or experienced. It was a way to get his emotions out instead of always putting them in his kill box, which was what all his brothers did.
She saw his focus. He was carrying her through rows of tents, alert and missing nothing. Intense. That was the word she’d use for this SEAL. Slowly, Sarah reluctantly relaxed into his arms. He had a powerful chest and a broad set of shoulders that looked like he could carry the world on them. Even though his face was hard and nearly unreadable, she sensed kindness in him. Maybe it was his full mouth, now pursed, holding back feelings she couldn’t even begin to decipher.
“You can put me down now. I’m okay.”
Ethan smiled at her. “Not a chance.”
“The pilots in my squadron will make fun of me. I really need to walk.” And she hated pleading, but she added, “Please?”
His straight black brows dipped a little at her request. There was hesitation in his gray eyes. Sarah touched her aching throat where the bastard had gripped her and held her down.
“Tell you what,” Ethan murmured. “If any of those Black Hawk drivers give you grief because I’m carrying you over to the dispensary, you let me know.” He gave her a slight grin. “I’ll settle it out with them privately and personally. Okay?”
Sarah sighed. “Are all SEALs stubborn?” She heard and felt him laugh.
“We’re a hardheaded bunch, I suppose. I’d like to think we’re focused and intense about our objective.” And right now, he couldn’t believe he was carrying Blue Eyes in his arms. He was in another kind of shock. A good kind, but he wasn’t about to share his euphoria with her.
Ethan turned a corner and up ahead was the two-story dispensary that had been built out of cinder blocks. It wasn’t very large, with only two Navy doctors and a small staff of two nurses and several combat medics manning it. When any serious medical issues came up, the person was flown directly to Bagram Air Base near Kabul.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, glancing down at her. She was very pale. Those beautiful blue eyes of hers were shadowed and frightened-looking.
“Whipped,” Sarah admitted, feeling safe enough in his arms. She would never admit that to the male pilots she flew with. They’d call her weak once they found out what had just happened to her. And then they’d brutally tease her or tell her it was her fault, that she’d invited the attack. She hated that.
“I’m Ethan Quinn. What’s your first name?”
She looked up and drowned in his soft gray eyes. Opening her lips and then closing them, Sarah felt an incredible sense of protection surrounding her. It was him. Reeling from the attack, she didn’t have her normal defensive walls in place. “Sarah Benson.”
He nodded. “My teammates call me Hawk.” And then he smiled a little. “You have a beautiful name.” To go with your incredible blue eyes. But he didn’t add that, seeing her eyes widen as if in wonder for a moment. There was a definite connection between them. He could feel it. The sensation, whatever it was, was palpable and it felt damn good.
Ethan knew where the E.R. was located; he’d been there the other day with Tolleson, escorting another SEAL because he’d twisted the hell out of his ankle.
He walked up to the sliding doors, then waited as they opened. Inside, there were a number of military guys waiting for medical attention at the clinic. They looked up in unison at him as he entered the air-conditioned dispensary.
Moving through another entrance, Ethan carried Sarah directly into the E.R. area.
It contained four curtained cubicles. A Navy nurse at the nurse’s station in the corner saw him arrive. She was older and had peppered hair of black and silver.
“Chief Benson needs medical attention right now,” Ethan told the nurse. “Which cubicle can I put her in?”
Sarah felt his authority even though he spoke quietly to the nurse. The older woman quickly looked her over.
“Cubicle one, Petty Officer.”
“One it is,” Ethan said.
The nurse called for an orderly—a young man—and by the time Ethan had gently deposited Sarah onto the gurney, a woman doctor had arrived. He stood back, letting the medical team help Sarah.
“What happened?” Dr. Johnson asked Sarah.
Sarah told her, mumbling through the bandanna. The doctor scowled, then glanced over at the SEAL and asked, “Who is he?”
“Petty Officer Quinn. He broke up the attack,” Sarah told her. “And he brought me over here. I’m not walking very well right now.”
“I see.” The doctor stared at Ethan. “You need to leave, Petty Officer. Thank you for your help.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ethan murmured, starting for the opening in the curtain.
“Wait,”
