Read Morgan's Mercenaries: Heart of Stone Online
Authors: Lindsay McKenna
Tags: #Romance: Modern, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction, #Love stories, #Romance - General, #Fiction - General
Frowning, Dane focused on the feeling. When he thought he could put a name to the emotion, he instantly recoiled from it. No…it couldn’t be. He couldn’t feel that way about Maya. Or could he? His mouth compressed in a slash against the possibility. How could he have these kinds of raw, needy feelings toward a woman who hated the very earth he walked upon? He felt a strong caring feeling flowing toward her, a need to hold her in his arms, kiss her and breathe his life back into her. The thoughts were absolutely shocking to Dane, and yet here they were, alive, vibrant and clamoring to be acted upon.
Great, he wanted her as a woman to his man. He
craved to feel Maya’s arms around him. He wondered what it would be like to feel the softness and womanly strength of her lips against his mouth. Would the heat in her eyes translate to another kind of vibrant heat that could only come from within her? His need of Maya on that level gnawed at him relentlessly. Maybe because he was weakening from blood loss in the transfusion, he was a little more vulnerable to his buried thoughts and feelings toward her.
Confusion spun around in him. Dane felt light-headed. His raw emotions were bubbling to the surface, and they had his full attention. There was no way he could fall in love with Maya. Or have feelings of love toward her. Could he?
How
could he? Nothing made sense to Dane. Not right now. He blamed his present state on the urgency of his emotions. It was just the possibility of losing Maya at the base, on this mission, which was so important. That was all. It had to be all.
T
he first thing Maya felt as she dragged herself out of the darkness was pain. Pain throbbing in her left arm. She heard women’s voices, low and whispering. Her shorting-out consciousness then became aware of the warmth of a hand on her right shoulder. What had happened? Blinking, she squinted as she opened her eyes.
“Ah, she’s awake.”
It was Captain Dove Rivera’s soft, melodic voice.
Opening her eyes, Maya saw Dr. Cornell and Angel bending over her.
“Do I look like a bug under a microscope?” she demanded in a rusty voice.
Dove Rivera, who sat on a stool next to her bed, lifted her hand from Maya’s shoulder and grinned hugely. Her flashing smile filled the room as she gazed down at Maya.
“Welcome back from the Threshold, Maya.”
Barely lifting her head, Maya looked around. “I’m in our hospital. Why?”
Elizabeth placed her hands in the pockets of her white coat. Her stethoscope hung around her neck. “Because you almost croaked on us, that’s why, Maya. Do you remember what happened about two hours ago?”
Closing her eyes, her mouth dry, Maya whispered, “Oh damn…we got nailed by a Kamov….” And then her lashes lifted and worry filled her voice. “Dane? Is he okay? I mean…Major York? Did he get hit, too?”
Chuckling, Paredes hoisted her thumb toward the door at the other end of their four-bed hospital section, which was part of the clinic. “Well, he got hit all right. But he’s okay.” She traded an amused look with the doctor.
Maya felt incredibly weak. “Then…he’s okay….” She had been alarmed that he might have gotten hurt, too.
Elizabeth placed her hand on Maya’s left shoulder and squeezed it gently. “You received a deep cut to the under side of your left arm. It sliced your brachial artery wide open. You tried to stop the bleeding and eventually, because of blood loss, you fell unconscious. Major York flew you home.”
Dove tittered. “You shoulda seen him come barreling through the Eye, Maya. I mean, that man’s tail was on fire. He didn’t creep through like he’d been doing before.” She slapped her knee and giggled. “It wasn’t funny at the time, but it is now. We were all waiting for you on the lip.” She gestured toward Elizabeth and Angel. “I mean, that guy came through the Eye like it wasn’t there. Even
we
were impressed. He’s got guts when he needs them.”
Closing her eyes, Maya remembered vague bits of the Kamov attack. “Then why is he hurt?” She heard the collective laugh of the women who surrounded her bed. In each of her arms were IVs feeding her nutrients.
“Because,” Elizabeth said quietly and seriously, “he literally saved your life.”
Opening her eyes to slits, Maya whispered, “He did a good job of flying us home.”
“Oh,” Dove said, her thick black, brows arching, “he did a little more than that.” Her black eyes gleamed with amusement as she traded smiles with her compatriots once more.
“I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to tell you,” Elizabeth said, “but Major York gave you a blood transfusion of AB positive. We had none on hand, as you well know.” Elizabeth frowned. “And you were dumping on us, Maya. I figure you’ve lost three pints of blood. You shouldn’t have even have made it back here. When we got you into the dispensary, your blood pressure was falling through the floor. Major York was hovering over you like a mother hen. When he found out we didn’t have AB positive on hand, he told us he was.” She smiled softly. “The guy is okay, Maya. He started rolling up his sleeve and asking where he could sit so you could get enough blood into you before you went into cardiac arrest.”
Stunned, Maya stared up at the doctor. “He—Dane—I mean, Major York—he—you’ve got to be kidding me!” His blood in her body. The explosion of shock rippled through Maya. She saw the serious set of Elizabeth’s narrow face. At thirty-five, Elizabeth was one of the oldest women on the base. And her heart was one of the largest.
“What was it he said?” Angel said, laughing. “That
when you woke up and found out you had his redneck blood in your body, that you wouldn’t be very happy about it?”
“That’s what he said,” Elizabeth murmured. She smoothed the blue gown Maya wore in a motherly fashion. “We’ve got other things in motion, too. I had Angel go to comms and contact your sister, Inca. We just got word that she’s being flown out from Manaus on a Perseus jet to Cuzco. As soon as she gets here—” Elizabeth looked at her watch “—which should be about five hours from now, Dove is going to take the civilian helo from the mining side into Cuzco to pick her up at the airport. She’ll then fly her out here.” She gently tapped Maya’s shoulder. “You’re still not out of the woods, Maya. We’ve got another flight in at the Good Samaritan Hospital in Lima right now, and we’re picking up four pints of AB positive blood. You need more, and I’m afraid Major York is really weakened from giving you two pints of his own blood. As soon as Dallas arrives back here with it, we’re pumping both of you to normal levels to get you on safer ground. Until then, you are to just lie here and rest. You’re going nowhere.” Her voice had turned grim.
Blown away by the news, Maya stared up at the doctor. “I still can’t believe this—
he
gave his blood to
me?
”
Sliding off the stool, Dove laughed. Though she was half Spanish, half Q’uero Indian, Dove, who stood a little over five foot five inches tall, was built solidly like her Q’uero ancestors, the original Incas. “Now you got redneck blood in you, too, Maya. Just think—blood of the guy you hated the most, the one who almost did all of us in back at Fort Rucker, is in your veins now. Isn’t that something?” She picked up her helmet and
placed it under her left arm. “I’m on standby, so I gotta get out of here. I just wanted to be here when you came around. You’ve got fifty other people who are wanting to see you, too.”
“Dove, spread the word that Maya is awake and stable.”
“I will,” she told the doctor as she headed toward the swinging doors at the end of the small hospital unit. At the doors, she halted. “Oh. Major York has been asking about you. He wants to see you. Do you want to see him? He’s just outside in the dispensary, lying down. The man keeps asking about you every five minutes.”
Frowning, Maya whispered, “Sure…I’ll see him….” And her heart fluttered with a strange, new emotion.
Angel and Elizabeth left her bedside. “We’ll give you two some time alone,” Elizabeth counseled. She wagged her finger in Maya’s face. “But if he upsets you, or you want him to leave, just tell him that. I don’t want you stressed. Not right now, okay?”
Compressing her dry lips, Maya nodded weakly. “Doc, I’m in no shape to fight or spar with anyone. I just want to thank him. It’s the least I can do.”
Pleased, Elizabeth said, “Good for you. Angel will come and check on you every half hour. The buzzer is located near your right hand. Push it and we’ll be here in a heartbeat, okay?”
“Yes…thank you…all of you…”
The ward became quiet after they left. It was a small room with two beds on either side. Maya had helped create this small hospital section, but this was the first time in three years she’d been in it. There were windows located on the side that faced the opening to the
cave. Everything was painted white, and white cotton curtains hung at the rectangular windows, which allowed feeble light to enter the area.
She was propped up slightly in bed, she realized. Her arm ached dully, and looking down at it, she saw it was wrapped in several bandages. The water sitting on the bedstand nearby looked awfully good. Trying to reach for it, she found, to her consternation, that she was so weak it took every effort to drag her hand across her lap toward it.
Lying back, exhausted, Maya closed her eyes. Dane York had saved her life. His blood was in her body. A lot of it. Emotions roiled within her. How could someone who hated her as much as he did do something like this for her? Confused, Maya didn’t have much time to work through her feelings. She heard the door open quietly and then close. Turning her head, she forced her eyes open. Through her thick, black lashes, she saw Dane York, still in his black flight uniform, his left sleeve rolled up above his elbow, come walking into the unit. Her heart skipped a beat.
Dane looked washed out. No longer did he walk with that vital step she’d come to know so well. His face was haggard, and there were shadows lurking beneath his large blue eyes. Warmth moved through her unexpectedly as she met and held his welcoming gaze. There was a slight, hesitant smile on his mouth. His eyes were alive with anxiety and worry in their depths. For who? Her? Maya found it hard to think of Dane York as someone who really cared what happened to her. All of her old assumptions exploded suddenly. As he reached the rail of her bed and looked down at her, Maya realized that for the first time she was seeing him without his armor in place. Right now, his face was so
very readable. His mouth, usually so harshly set, no longer turned in at the corners. No, if anything, he had an incredible expression of care that radiated straight through her to her heart.
“I didn’t hear any hysterical screaming coming from here when you found out you have some of my blood,” he teased, his voice husky with emotion. How badly he wanted to reach out and touch Maya. She looked wan, her once golden flesh leached out. Her black hair lay in thick ebony strands around her face and gowned shoulders. Her lips were slightly parted. The look in her eyes was one of confusion, warmth and something else he couldn’t easily decipher.
To hell with it.
Facing her, Dane reached over and gently moved his hand across the crown of her head, barely grazing her hair. A look of shock registered in her dull green eyes at his gesture of unspoken concern and care. Dane removed his hand. He realized he shouldn’t have tried making contact with her. His heart ached.
Tiny tingles radiated across Maya’s scalp where he’d skimmed her hair. His touch was so unexpected that she was speechless for a moment. The anxiety in his face was unmistakable. He cared for
her.
Blinking, she opened her mouth to speak. Only a croak came out.
“Sounds like you need some water?” he teased and, reaching over, he poured some in a glass and held it out to her. Dane wanted to do something—anything—to show how much he was concerned for Maya. Surprise and confusion were alive in her eyes as she stared up at him when he patiently offered her the glass.
“I—I’m weak…Can you…can you help me get it to my mouth? I’m dying of thirst.”
She’d asked for his help. His heart soared. A slight,
self-conscious grin pulled at one corner of his mouth. “Yeah, hold on. Let me situate myself so I can get you into enough of a sitting position to drink it without wearing it….” He set the glass down and moved toward her head. He was looking forward to contact with her once again. Maybe touch was all he had to communicate to Maya that he wasn’t the bastard he’d been four years earlier. Leaning over her, Dane slid his arm beneath her neck and shoulders and eased her upward. Maya didn’t protest or struggle. She didn’t try and fight him or move away from his supportive embrace. Again his heart soared.
“Here,” he murmured, bringing the glass to her cracked, dry lips, “drink all you want.” As he pressed the rim of the glass to her mouth, he saw her try to raise her hand, but fail. Alarmed at her weakness, Dane realized that although Maya was alive, she was far from well.
Sucking noisily, Maya drank the entire contents of the glass. Dane’s arm felt strong and reassuring around her. When she asked for more, he chuckled.
“Good sign. Anytime someone wants water or food, they’re going to live.” He poured her another glass and then eased her up into his arms again.
Maya absorbed his care. Right now, she was feeling very weak and out of control. The second glass of water sated her. Leaning her head against his strong, capable shoulder, she whispered, “Thanks…”
Dane didn’t want to release her, but he knew he had to. Easing Maya onto the bed, he put the glass aside. Fussing with the pillows under her head, he gazed down at Maya. How beautiful she looked. And how in need of care she was right now.
“There. Better?”
Maya nodded once and closed her eyes. “Yeah…better. Thanks.” All sorts of warm ripples were moving throughout her neck and shoulders where he’d held her. A part of her wondered why they had this ongoing battle between them at all.
Dane pulled up the stool and sat down, his arm resting on the rail as he faced Maya. The hum of constant activity outside the room could be heard. He felt like a beggar being given the chance to simply absorb her beauty, her strength and bravery as he sat there in the silence of the room.
“You know,” he began awkwardly, in a halting, low tone, “I was so scared out there. I didn’t realize when the Kamov started firing at us that your cockpit would shatter. I felt frustrated, Maya. I couldn’t reach you or help you.” He saw her eyes barely open, her pupils large and black and centered on him. Without thinking, Dane reached out and settled his hand over hers, which lay across her stomach on top of the covers. “I don’t know what I expected out of that combat situation. When you turned the gunship to meet the Kamov head-on, I was surprised.” He grinned a little, his fingers moving to enclose her cool hand. “You were already wounded. I don’t know if you knew it at that time or not, but you turned and faced him.” Shaking his head, he whispered, “You’re the gutsiest person I know.”
The admiration, the respect in his low, husky voice riffled through Maya. It was healing. They were words she had wanted to hear from him for so long. And just the warm, quiet strength of his hand over hers fed her and made her feel less confused. As her eyes widened, Maya realized that Dane was no longer wearing his military mask with her. No, he was just a man. A gen
tle, quiet man who had moved through her heart and soul like a warm breeze over a cold winter landscape.
Dane removed his hand. He knew he was taking a terrible risk by touching Maya a second time. Yet his intuition gnawed at him to keep contact with her. He saw much of the confusion leave her eyes as he’d placed his hand over hers for that precious moment.
“I—uh, don’t remember much…at least, not now,” Maya began with an effort. “I couldn’t believe there were three Kamovs.” Her brows knitted. “Dane…he’s got three of those gunships now. That’s bad news for us. He must have bought another one.” Closing her eyes, Maya whispered emotionally, “That’s going to up the ante. My pilots are really going to be targets now. We can’t paint the Kamovs, dammit.”