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Damien gaped openly at the man. “Thirty days?”

With a reluctant sigh, Nolan lowered his hands and fixed his piercing stare on Damien.

“Take your thirty days. Go see the woman. It’s possible she may not want you back now. Look at the situation from all angles. Make a decision.”

Damien sat in stunned silence. It had not occurred to him that Laurie might not welcome him back. But she loved him. Or rather, she had loved him once. Did she still? He had to find out. With an abrupt nod, he rose and left Nolan’s office. Possibilities both pleasant and unpleasant whirled in his mind. He went straight to his quarters, across the hall from Neal’s open door. He dropped his helmet on the desk and rubbed a weary hand over his face as he dropped into a chair. Looking up, he spotted Neal leaning against the door frame.

“Another six years,” Neal said. “Six more years of saving humanity from its own stupidity.” His bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect. He was a die-hard SEAL, much like Damien had always been.

“I don’t know,” Damien countered wearily. He really needed some sleep.

Neal Farrell glanced sharply at the man he called brother and straightened up. “What gives? Six years ago you re-enlisted without thinking.”

“I want—I need something else.” Though his mind churned with unanswered questions and post mission exhaustion, Damien stared steadily at his best friend. They had saved each other’s butts countless times, talked about girls, traded sorrows. Neal had gotten him stinking drunk after the divorce then found him a willing but temporary bed partner. They had been through thick and thin together since SEAL training.

“Don’t tell me—you met a girl,” Neal quipped flippantly, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

Damien said nothing, his thoughts as serious as if he was leaving on a mission in five minutes.

Amusement vanished from Neal’s eyes and he looked stunned. “Jesus, Damien. You’re leaving because of a woman?” He paused as his eyes narrowed in speculation then widened in realization. “Not Laurie.” He shook his head in disgust. “Christ, man, you’re obsessed with her.”

Damien glared a warning at Neal. “Damn it. I loved her. But she did not fit into my life.

As a SEAL, there is no possibility of anything else in my life.”

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He raked a trembling, frustrated hand through his hair and attempted to explain something he did not fully understand. “She’s all I think about. What is she doing? Is she all right? Does she remember me and what we had?”

“You just need to get laid,” Neal interrupted caustically.

“I don’t want another woman!” Damien snarled on a sudden surge of anger. “Damn it, I want her! Did she find someone else—someone more average and ordinary?” He trailed off into low muttering.

“She didn’t accept you as you are?” Neal countered indignantly. “Then she’s not the one you need.”

“I didn’t give her the chance,” Damien admitted harshly. Memory clouded his thoughts, tugged at his heart as he stared into space. “She told me she loved me. I wonder if she meant it.”

The taut silence lingered for a moment before Neal’s chuckle broke it. “She must have felt something. It was a great shot—moving tango at three hundred meters.”

“Yeah.” Damien grinned with a flash of pride. Then he scowled. “Why didn’t you just drag her out? Why stop?”

Neal shot him a skeptical look. “Shit. She damn near blew my head off before I convinced her I wasn’t the enemy. She only missed me by half an inch—using your gun! You expect me to argue with her?” He grinned again. “Besides, she saved your miserable life—twice.

She should get a medal for that.”

Though Damien smiled in brief amusement, he wondered if Laurie’s rationalizations before he had left her for good six months earlier were true. Was this relationship only sex and adrenaline and gratitude? His heart clenched. He had thirty days to find out.

“Opted for discharge?” Neal queried lightly but his eyes were serious.

“Not yet.” Damien shrugged as he stared at the floor but it wasn’t the casual gesture he needed. “I’ve got thirty days to find out if I can be a civilian—to find out if she loves me or ever did.”

“All right, Damien,” Neal said resignedly. “Do what you have to do but ….” He paused until Damien looked up at him again.

“Make sure it’s the right choice,” he finished seriously, “for both of you.”

* * * *

Unable to sleep, Laurie Crawford idly flipped through television channels. But nothing caught her attention enough to actually watch. Gradually, over the last six months, her life had settled back into normal routine. In a little over a month, the school year would end and summer routine would start. Except in her decreasingly frequent nightmares, Laurie had almost managed to forget the terrorists. She no longer woke screaming in the dark but some times tossed and turned all night.

Forgetting Damien, McAllister had proven much more difficult. At unguarded moments, she thought about him, wondered where he was, what he was doing—if he still lived. She found herself watching the news much more closely, wondering which of a dozen hotspots around the world Damien risked his life in. Passionate memories and erotic images invaded her sleep, often waking her with a burning need for him.

“Shit,” she groaned. Even after six long, lonely months she could not get him out of her mind—certainly not out of her heart. During daylight hours, she forced herself to shove his memory aside and concentrate on work. But in the dark of night, she cursed herself and him for his constant intrusions into her dreams. It was only memory, not reality.

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The sharp peal of the doorbell jerked her out of her thoughts. Her heart lurched into a faster beat. Her hands clenched into fists. She shot a quick glance at the clock. Ten thirty at night was far too late for visitors. Terrorists or criminals, she wondered? Panic surged without warning. Her head snapped around and she stared at the front door.

“Get a grip,” she muttered breathlessly. Terrorists and criminals did not ring doorbells.

She walked slowly to the door, which had no window or peephole. Fear was an icy trickle down her spine. She wasn’t quite as relaxed from her violent experience as she believed.

“Stop being an idiot,” she ordered herself and reached for the doorknob.

The doorbell assaulted her ears again and she flinched hard. She took a deep breath, twisted the knob, and pulled the door open. Her mind simply shut down as she gaped in shock at Damien. He stood on her doorstep wearing jeans, black T-shirt, leather jacket, and sneakers. He still wore the Ruger .45 on his hip. Her breath caught in her throat and she nearly choked.

Tall, dark, and dangerous
—the phrase flashed through her mind. Slightly long black hair caught in the light breeze. Amusement sparkled in his dark eyes. She blinked then closed her eyes on a long, slow breath that did nothing to calm her nerves. When she looked again, he was still there.

“May I come in?”

His deep slow baritone was a welcome caress to her ears. She blinked again. She had not dreamed him up. Her heart beat like a trip hammer. Blood roared in her ears. Trembling, she stepped back and opened the door wider.

He stepped inside and dropped his bag on the floor. Peering intently at her, he kicked the door shut behind him. “Are you all right?”

She nodded shakily and found her wayward voice. “Surprised to see you.”

He grinned, fast and lethal, and her heart lurched. “Shocked is more like it.”

“What are you doing here?” She stared at him, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her as she unsteadily crossed the room to the nearest chair. She fell rather than sat in it and struggled to bring her ragged breathing under control. She could not drag her eyes from him. He dropped to his knees in front of her. The blood rushed from her head. The room spun for a minute. She flopped back and let the chair support her.

“I’m sorry, Laurie. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Concern darkened his eyes as he looked her over again. “Or upset you.”

“You didn’t,” she said breathlessly. “Just shocked the hell out of me. I did not expect to ever see you again.”

She tried but failed to keep the hurt and misery of the last six months out of her voice.

But her heart swelled at actually seeing him again. His dark, penetrating stare caught and held hers for endless seconds. She sucked in a deep breath and struggled not to drown in the deep brown pools of his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she reiterated in a low whisper.

“An experiment,” he murmured, staring intently at her as he lifted a hand to her face.

His fingers trembled just slightly on her skin as he traced to curve of her jaw. Sharp tremors of desire shot into her. She clenched her hand tight together to keep from touching him.

She blinked as his words penetrated the sensual fog in her head.

“Huh?”

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“I want to see if I can be a civilian,” he clarified. “My second enlistment is up in thirty days.” He shrugged but his gaze slid from hers. “Normally, I would have re-enlisted without a second thought.”

Her mind cleared and she looked at him in consternation. That didn’t sound like Damien.

She could not imagine him as anything but a Navy SEAL.

“Why didn’t you?”

On a slow deep breath, he took her hands in his and peered directly into her eyes. The glimmer of uncertainty quickly vanished. Her own concern must have shown. Determination radiated from him but his gaze remained steady.

“For the last six months I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he admitted with quiet intensity, his eyes dark but steady. “After a mission, sometimes in the middle of one, I thought about you. I wanted you, dreamed of you—and Stacy. I started to want things I gave up as impossible long ago.”

He paused for so long Laurie began to wonder if he intended to finish. The faint glimmer of uncertainty flickered in his eyes again. His hands tightened around hers as though he had to make himself finish.

His voice dropped to a low, husky whisper. “I came back to find out of you meant it when you said you love me.”

Her heart stopped for a second then pounded erratically against her ribs. Hope welled in her heart but was immediately tempered by caution. Doubt reared its ugly head. He did not want her love, just her body. What did he want now? She tried to pull her hands from his, but he tightened his grip and dragged her closer.

“Did you mean it?” he persisted, a harsh gleam in his eyes.

She gnawed on her lower lip, showing confusion. But she would give him honesty, at least.

“At the time, yes,” she admitted raggedly.

His gaze sharpened. He tensed and shifted closer, his mouth only a breath from hers.

Only their hands touched.

“And now?” he demanded quietly.

Need turned his eyes even darker. She swallowed hard and eyed him warily as she replied softly, “I don’t know.”

Her gaze dropped to his chest and she stared at him until her vision blurred with helpless tears. She wanted desperately to throw her arms around him and pledge her love forever. But six months was a long time to hurt, a long time to want someone who wasn’t there, someone who was never coming home.

Keeping her hands in one of his, he gripped her chin. “Look at me,” he said softly.

“Please.”

His face was blurry when she met his gaze. She blinked but the tears only fell faster. His thumb swept over her trembling lips. Desire jolted her and her heart clenched in longing.

When he spoke, his voice was low and full of regret. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” The word was soft, barely audible. She bit her lip again to stop the persistent trembling.

“Don’t do that,” he murmured, sweeping his thumb over her lips again. Framing her face in both hands, he used his thumbs to wipe the tears until her vision cleared.

Relief mingled with uncertainty in his eyes. He leaned closer, pressed his lips gently to hers. Pleasure moved slowly from that point of contact into her whole system. Her lips parted in ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

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surprise and his tongue touched hers. Her heartbeat quickened. Her pulse scrambled. He lifted his lips from hers. The fierce gleam in his eyes held her.

“Please,” he said softly. “Give me another chance.”

“I

….”

“I need you,” he interrupted quietly. “Let me try.”

Stunned, bewildered, she only stared at him until he tugged her gently into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. His heat suffused her. His heart thudded against hers.

“I missed you, so much,” he muttered darkly into her hair, his voice thick with his familiar passion.

She tilted her head until her eyes met his hungry gaze. Desire, long denied, shot through her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, applying just enough pressure to show him what she wanted. His mouth covered hers, seeking and demanding, then devouring. This she could give him, freely and willingly, without strings. The rest would take time. Desire exploded into a raging firestorm enveloping them both.

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Just three weeks after Damien’s heart-stopping reappearance in her life, Laurie still had not quite grown used to his presence in her house and in her bed. As she kicked the car door closed, she looked at the front door of her house and smiled. Her heart soared at the simple knowledge that he was there, waiting for her. Carrying four plastic bags of groceries, she entered the house, kicked that door shut behind her, and hauled the groceries into the kitchen.

Damien sat at the table scanning the classified ads of several newspapers. As she watched, his finger slowly slid down the employment column of the newspaper. An erotic memory of his fingers sliding over her skin just as slowly put a flutter in her stomach. The finger stopped in the middle of the printed column. She lifted her gazes to his face, caught his welcoming smile, and her heart lurched. The concentrated look in his eyes softened and those dark eyes brightened.