Pain burst in her cheek as Juarez slapped her. “Do not make me reconsider my generosity,” he said. “I can just as easily kill you.”
The corridor ended in a set of steps that led up to a steel door. Juarez hauled her back against his chest, wedging the gun firmly under her chin before he flung open the door and crossed the threshold. He was using her for a shield, Glenna realized, the same way one of the hijackers had held her in the doorway of the plane.
But there was no sunlit expanse of pavement in front of them, just a narrow dirt path that led into the black shadows of the rain forest. The only light came from behind them, where the sky glowed orange from the cloud of smoke that billowed from the house.
She looked around as they moved forward, but there was no sign of anyone else. Thank God. Her fears that Juarez might have had reinforcements here were unfounded. The only sound came from some kind of bird that called from the undergrowth on their left. It was answered seconds later by one to their right.
Glenna suddenly realized that the reason she could hear the birds was because the gunfire had stopped.
The assault must be over. Who had won?
A bird called again. It sounded from behind them, closer than before and more like a whistle than a chirp. Glenna felt her heart leap. She peered into the darkness.
And the darkness came alive. Six large, black-clad men materialized from the jungle and converged on the path.
They didn’t ask Juarez to surrender. They never gave him a choice. In his white suit, he stood out like a beacon. As his finger tightened on the trigger, the gun he held to Glenna’s chin was knocked aside. There was a sharp crunch and Juarez shrieked.
Noise exploded beside Glenna’s ear. Something stung her temple an instant before she was pulled off her feet and wrapped in a hard embrace.
The stinging in her temple turned into a sharp pain. Numbness spread over her body but she fought to stay awake. She couldn’t see the face of the man who held her, but her heart knew who it was. Her heart had always recognized him. She smiled and laid her head in the hollow of his shoulder. “Rafe,” she whispered. “I knew you would…”
But whatever she had wanted to say would have to wait. The blackness that cloaked the jungle reached out to engulf her, replacing the pain with unconsciousness.
“How is she?”
Rafe stroked Glenna’s hair back from the bandage on her temple. “The doctor checked her ten minutes ago. He said the swelling inside her skull has gone down and her pressure’s back to normal, so she should wake up soon.”
Flynn stood at the foot of the hospital bed and crumpled his hat in his fists. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I thought I’d been fast enough.”
“You were, Flynn. The bullet only grazed her. It was the concussion that knocked her out.” Rafe moved his gaze from the bandage to the reddened skin on her cheek. The powder burns weren’t bad enough to scar. The tinge of purple from the place where Juarez had struck her was already beginning to fade to blue. Aing to the doctors who had treated her, chances were excellent that she’d make a complete recovery.
How many times would he have to tell himself that before the hollow churning in his gut finally eased?
“Yeah, but it’s my fault he had the chance to fire,” Flynn said.
Rafe twisted on the chair to look at his friend. Unlike Rafe, Flynn had taken the time to clean up and put on a fresh uniform before he’d come to the hospital. Every man on the team had volunteered to sit with Glenna so that Rafe could do the same, but Rafe hadn’t let her out of his sight since he’d snatched her away from Juarez.
He’d gone over the events of the night before at least a hundred times during the trip back to the base. Was there something he could have done differently? Could he have found the hidden exit and set up the ambush sooner? Or should they have waited and moved later? Maybe. Maybe not. Those were yet more questions he would never know the answer to. “Juarez was the one who pulled the trigger, not you,” Rafe said. “Glenna wouldn’t blame you. She’s not like that.”
“Well, I’m sorry anyway.”
Rafe wanted to say something about forgiveness, but the concept was still too new to him. It was going to take time. Still, the process had already begun, and with Glenna’s help…
He hitched his chair closer to the bed and took Glenna’s hand as he remembered her words. “We can’t rewrite the past,” he murmured. “But we can overcome it.”
“I heard Leonardo’s going to get a cell near Arturo as soon as his cast comes off.”
Rafe smiled grimly. “How many bones did you break when you grabbed his hand, Flynn?”
“Only three.”
“He was lucky.”
“Yeah. The chief says I need to increase my hours in the weight room.” Flynn mashed his hat some more. “Rafe, remember those things I said a few days ago…”
“What things?”
“About women and not getting serious.”
“You want to apologize about that, too?”
“Hey, don’t push it. I’m not planning to give up my freedom for anyone. I just wanted to say that you were with us more than a hundred percent on this mission. Maybe Glenna’s not that bad for you after all.”
“Not that bad?” Rafe shook his head. “Flynn, she is the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire sorry life.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Sarah swept into the room, her arms laden with an arrangement of flowers that she could barely see over. “Where do you want these, Rafe? I had to hit practically every shop in Fayetteville to find them for you.”
He twined his fingers with Glenna’s as he glanced around the room. There wasn’t an empty surface left. Bouquets had been arriving all morning. There were flowers from Glenna’s friends at the hotel, a tasteful orchid arrangement in a crystal vase from her mother, even flers that had been sent from florists. Yet most of the vegetation that crowded the tables and the windowsill was from the men of Eagle Squadron.
“Thanks, Sarah,” Rafe said. “Can you fit them on the tray table?”
“Sure.” Sarah pushed aside the potted violet Esposito had brought from his wife’s greenhouse and set the flowers down on the high, narrow table. “She’s going to love seeing all of this when she wakes up.” She paused as she looked at Glenna. “Any word on when that might be, Rafe?”
“Any minute now.”
“I heard her prognosis is excellent.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m not surprised. She’s a pretty determined woman. I think she would have made a good officer.”
“I had the same thought myself.”
“Who gave her the teddy bear?” Sarah asked, waving toward the huge stuffed toy that was leaning in the corner beside the window. “It’s cute.”
“The major.”
Flynn guffawed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“For some reason, the gift shop downstairs had run out of flowers, Sergeant.”
At Redinger’s voice, Flynn straightened and turned toward the door. “Sir, I meant no disrespect.”
“At ease, O’Toole.” Rather than entering the room, the Major stayed in the doorway. “Is there any change, Rafe?”
“Not yet, Major.”
“Let me know when she’s lucid. The DEA and the State Department want to talk to her.”
“If they want to talk to her, they’ll have to get in line behind me, sir.”
One corner of the major’s mouth lifted. “Yes, I imagine they will. This might be a good time to take that leave you wanted. Consider it effective as of now. You’ve got ten days.”
“Thank you.”
“As for you, Sergeant O’Toole, the debriefing starts in five minutes.”
“Right. I’m on my way.” Flynn moved around the bed and squeezed Rafe’s shoulder. “Hang in there, buddy.”
“Don’t worry,” he replied. “I’ve got no intention of retreating.”
Redinger turned to go. “Captain?”
“I’ll be right with you, Major.” Sarah regarded Glenna in silence for a moment, then smiled at Rafe across the bed. “It’s going to work out, Rafe,” she said softly. “I believe you and Glenna are two of the lucky ones.”
Rafe thought about that as his friends left the room. Lucky? He wasn’t sure that luck had much to do with it. They were what they made of themselves. And he planned to do everything in his power to make a future with
As long as she’d have him, that is.
Rafe pressed his lips to Glenna’s knuckles. “Wake up, princess,” he murmured. “Wake up, even if it’s just so you can tell me what an idiot I am.”
Her chest rose and fell beneath the pale blue hospital gown. Fluid dripped from the IV bag suspended near the head of the bed into the tube in her arm. Otherwise, there was no movement.
“Because I am an idiot. I’ve been so wrapped up in my past that I couldn’t see the present. I was the one who didn’t recognize reality, not you.”
Her eyes remained closed, her lashes dark against her pale cheeks.
“I’ve got ten days,” he said. “We’ll go somewhere quiet, okay? Just the two of us. No schedules, no missions, no day planners. How about New Orleans? We could take in some jazz, go on some real dates, do all those things we skipped.”
No reply.
“Please, wake up, Glenna. I need to talk to you. I need to see you open those green eyes and—” He swallowed hard. Emotions that had been buried for years were gathering into a thick lump in his throat.
It still hurt. But it was a good kind of pain. The pain of healing. “I need you,” he whispered. “You. Whether you’re Glenna Hastings or Glenna Vanderhayden. Whether you’re working in some fancy Manhattan office or stealing the last piece of pecan pie from the commissary, you’ll always be
my
Glenna.”
Was that a tremor in her fingers? Or was it his own hand that shook? Rafe leaned closer, pressing a kiss in the center of her palm. “Come on, princess. You can do it.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
Rafe tightened his grip. “Glenna?”
She heard his voice, but it sounded rough. She could feel his worry through the tension in his hand. She struggled to push through the haze that surrounded her.
He was leaning over her. His jaw and his good cheek bristled with beard stubble. Dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes. An oily-looking stain smeared the shoulder of his black jumpsuit. He looked terrible. And he was the most wonderful sight in the world. Glenna smiled. “Hello, Rafe.”
He didn’t say anything right away. He swallowed first, his throat working. “Hello, Glenna,” he rasped. “Welcome back.”
Her smile dimmed. She moistened her lips as she tried to figure out what was going on. Her head felt thick, as if she’d been asleep for too long, yet her senses seemed to be working with startling clarity. There were flowers everywhere, a banquet of color and scent. “Where are we?”
“We’re back at Bragg. In the hospital. You were grazed by a bullet when Juarez discharged his pistol.”
The nightmare burst full-blown into her mind. She remembered everything. The horror of her captivity, the fear and the gunfire, the scuffle in the darkness…and then Rafe’s arms holding her, keeping her safe.
That was the important part. She was safe. They both weurned her head, then winced at the sudden throb of discomfort.
“Glenna?”
He sounded so worried, she tried to reassure him. “I’m all right, Rafe. I just…have a headache.”
“You have a concussion from the bullet. I’ll see if they can give you something for the pain.”
“Rafe, it isn’t bad. I’m—”
He was already on his way to the door. He called for a nurse. A few moments later, a matronly woman hurried in and checked Glenna’s vitals. When she was finished, she nodded approvingly and scribbled in a chart.
Glenna declined her offer of pain medication. She didn’t want to be sedated. She didn’t want to rest as the nurse advised, either. She wanted to see Rafe.
The nurse left with the same bustling efficiency with which she’d entered, pausing only long enough to caution Rafe not to tire her patient. He closed the door behind her and returned to stand beside the bed. He lifted his hand, his fingertips whispering over Glenna’s hair. “Are you sure you don’t want to take anything?”
“I’m fine. It’s not that bad.” She inhaled slowly, drinking in the warmth of his presence, and the pain receded. “What happened with the mission?”
“It was a complete success.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah. Juarez is in custody. The records we found at his compound are going to allow the Rocaman government to weed out every corrupt cop and politician on his payroll.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No casualties on our side except you.” He clenched his jaw. “I’m sorry, Glenna. After everything you did for the team, we should have been able to get to you sooner.”
“I knew you would come, Rafe.”
“When Juarez took you, nothing would keep me away.”
Of course. This was what he did for a living. He was an honorable man. He would feel responsible. She shouldn’t hope that it was more. He’d made himself clear before she’d gone back to New York.
Yes, well, she wasn’t going to give up that easily again. He was with her now, and whether they were in a hospital room or a basement prison, she still intended to make every minute count. Not because her life was about to end, but because it was just getting started. She braced her elbows on the mattress and began to sit up. “Rafe—”
“Glenna—”
They had both spoken at once. He reached beside the bed for the controls that would raise the mattress under her head. With a touch that was achingly tender, he adjusted her pillows behind her back and tucked the blanket around her waist. “I realize you need rest, Glenna, and this probably isn’t the best time or place to discuss this, but there’s something I need to say and I don’t want to take a chance that something else will happen to stop me again.”
“Again
“I tried to call you after you left. I know now why you never answered, but for a while I’d thought you just didn’t want to talk to me.”
“You called? Why?”
He sat down on the edge of the mattress and braced his fists on either side of her hips. “You made me think about John, really think about him, instead of burying it all under the scars and the hate.”
“I’m glad, Rafe.”
“When we first met, you said we had a bond. I didn’t believe you then, but it turns out that you were right about everything. I was letting my past keep me from having a future.” He regarded her in silence for a while, his gaze intense. “But not anymore, Glenna. The major gave me a ten-day leave. I hope that once you’re discharged and are feeling better, you and I could go someplace where we could talk about this in private.”