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She nodded, her heart starting a hard beat, adrenaline drenching her again. He was so tall, so confident.
He went to the door and looked both ways before gesturing for her to follow him. Once out on the cool, humid walkway, he turned and quietly shut the door. Pointing to the belt, he paused as Aly quickly slid her fingers around it.
Her mouth was dry. Aly was scared to death, wanting desperately to hurry, to escape. Duarte had raged at her yesterday. His gangrenous toes had not improved in the week since she’d started treating him. He’d reached out, grabbed her by the throat and choked her. No one had made a move to stop him as he’d twisted her until she’d fallen across his lap, his black eyes drilling into hers. She hadn’t been able to help herself. Her response had been automatic as she’d tried to pull his hands off her throat as she’d choked and gasped for air.
It was then that Rusak had intervened, grabbing her wrists and squeezing them tightly between his massive, powerful hands. She’d heard Duarte screaming at her in Portuguese, seen her vision graying, unable to breathe as he’d squeezed his fingers deeper into her soft throat. She’d lost consciousness.
Minutes later she’d woken on the cold tile floor, gasping for breath, her throat aching, her wrists throbbing. Rusak had grabbed her and hauled her to her hands and knees in front of the hard-breathing Duarte who’d glared at her. If his feet were not better by tomorrow morning, he’d told her, he would enjoy Rusak raping her in front of him.
They moved quietly down the walk. At a juncture, Aly moved with Patterson, crouched as he was. He had his rifle in his hands, ready to do battle if it became necessary. Her heart was pounding in her sore, aching throat. Tears burned in her eyes. If she didn’t get out of here now, she would be raped in the morning. Oh, God, get us out of here. Please...
Aly had no idea the tunnel existed. The Marine knew where he was going. She never heard him walking so she tried to emulate his gait, making no sound. Her knees wobbled. She felt so scared that she might faint. It wouldn’t be the first time. But now was not the time to have it happen!
Girding herself, Aly felt the Marine grip her arm firmly after opening the tunnel door. He gently guided her into the darkened area. She had no NVGs as he did. Standing, shivering and arms around herself, she waited until he closed the door. He turned and gripped her hand, placing it on his belt once more. Just his touch made her feel better.
They moved down the damp tunnel. It had been dug out of the earth and moved in a gentle slope upward. Aly touched the wall once. It was concrete and it was wet and damp beneath her fingers. The Marine, she swore, was more shadow than man. He seemed to check his stride for her sake. He was over six feet tall, his legs long, and her stride was a lot less than his. She breathed through her mouth, trying to remain quiet.
Aly felt Patterson slow down. She couldn’t see anything but blackness ahead of them. But at least he could see for them. His hand moved to hers and then to her arm. He pulled her to his side. The scent of his sweat entered her flared nostrils as she stood tensely. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but didn’t dare speak. And then he put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her against his body, slowly moving forward, mincing steps.
Her boot sank into mud. Aly gasped as she suddenly fell forward. She threw out her hands. Patterson caught her, firmly brought her against him. Panic went through Aly as she found it tough to pull her boot out of the hole and the exposed roots. She couldn’t see them, but she felt them. Finally, her foot freed and she sucked in a ragged breath as he took her forward. They were on earth now, no longer in the tunnel.
Just having his arm around her made Aly feel so much better. He seemed to monitor how much pressure he placed against her as he weaved and bobbed through and around things she simply couldn’t see. There was no moon. No nothing except to rely on the Marine.
Aly had no idea how far they had gone tucked together that way when he stopped, released her and turned to her. She could feel his powerful presence, swore she could even feel the heat radiating off his body. “I want you to sit down. I need to get my other ruck. It’s near this tree you can’t see.”
His voice was low, not a whisper. Aly nodded and sat. The seat of her pants quickly got soaked on the decomposed earth. She felt him kneel very close to her.
“I need you to drink water from my CamelBak,” he told her, finding her hand, guiding it to the tube affixed to his shoulder epaulet. “Drink a lot. We’re going to be traveling as fast as you can go for a long time. All right?”
His voice was gravelly but warm. Aly could tell he was concerned about her. She gripped the hose. “All right,” she whispered hoarsely, her voice rough since Duarte’s attempt to strangle her to death. After drinking a lot, her throat hurting, she said, “I’m done. Thank you.”
He moved away without a word.
How relieved Aly was. They were out of that hellish place! She heard very little but thought she knew where the Marine was. Rubbing her face, she tried to collect herself.
“Here,” he said, picking up her hand. “NVGs. Put them on. Do you know how?”
Aly felt helpless. She hated the feeling. “No...sorry...”
“Don’t be,” he rasped, settling them around her eyes and making sure the strap fit enough, but not too tightly around her head. Lifting her hand, he said, “There’s a switch here. Push it forward. It turns them on.”
The instant she did, she saw everything around her. She gasped softly. “I can see!”
He chuckled. And watched her as he unwound and walked over to a huge ruck that he hefted onto his broad back. He belted it up, turned and held out his hand to her.
Aly slipped her hand into his large, callused one. He easily helped her to her feet, but didn’t let go. Instead he pulled her closer and turned her so there was about a foot between them. He had something in his hand.
“This is a radio,” he told her, settling it around her left ear, fitting it and then pulling the small microphone near her lips. He turned it on. “If we get separated—or if I hide you somewhere—you need to know that radio has a two-mile radius. Leave it on at all times.”
His eyes were covered by the NVGs but she felt the seriousness of his instructions. “H-how long until we can get away from here? Back home?” she asked, her voice breaking. She was shocked as he lifted his hand and grazed her uninjured cheek. The brush of his knuckles against her flesh sent wild, arching fire downward. Her breasts tightened.
“Listen, Ms. Landon, we have to go nearly a hundred miles through this jungle to reach our rally point. It’s going to be long and hard. You need to keep drinking water. I’ll stop periodically and we’ll hydrate, eat a protein bar and then keep on going.” His voice dropped. “This isn’t going to be easy for you. But judging from your face and throat, you know any energy you can throw into this will be worth it. Okay?”
Nodding, Aly said, “Yes...I understand.”
“Do you have any other injuries that might slow you down? To your feet, legs or knees?”
She grimaced. “No...just my face, arms and neck.”
“Your father said you had heart,” he told her. “I need all the heart you can give me because we’re in a very dangerous situation. And there’s no help if we get into trouble.”
“My father?” she asked, hope suddenly in her voice.
“Yeah. He’s the one that called and asked me to try to find and rescue you. Are you ready?”
Her heart melted over his low, husky words. Her father had come to her rescue! Tears jammed into her eyes. She couldn’t cry now. “I’m ready,” she said firmly.
“Grab my belt.”
Aly wasn’t prepared in any way for this cross-country trotting. Yes, she had NVGs and she could see where the Marine was heading, where the roots were sticking out of the ground, but very quickly, she was gasping for air. She felt horrible. Felt frightened. The Marine slowed to a stop.
She leaned over, hands on her knees, gasping. She felt his hand against her back and he leaned down near her.
“What’s going on with your breathing, Ms. Landon?”
She straightened, unconsciously touching her swollen throat. “Are you familiar with medicine, Sergeant?”
“Yes, ma’am, just a little.”
She heard slight amusement in his voice. “Yesterday afternoon Duarte suddenly grabbed me by the throat.” She closed her eyes, feeling helpless. “I—I couldn’t stop him. When I tried to get his hand off my throat, Rusak, his security chief, grabbed my wrists and pulled them above my head and held me there. I lost consciousness...” She trembled in memory of it.
“Okay,” he breathed softly, “let’s take a moment to rest. I’m going to examine your throat. I’m not going to hurt you....”
Aly was breathing poorly and she knew it. The moment his large fingers moved gently across her throat, she relaxed. He was a man, but he wasn’t hurting her. Aly could feel him assessing the swelling. Finally his hand dropped away.
“I’d like to kill that son of a bitch,” he growled. He dug into one of the pockets on his harness. “I need you to take these two ibuprofen. They’ll help to reduce the swelling, which will start opening up your windpipe so you can breathe easier.”
Aly took the two white capsules. “Thanks,” she whispered. God, why did she have to sound as though she was on the verge of tears? Because she was. The Marine had been so gentle with his examination of her throat. She wanted more of his touch because he made her feel safe in a world that wasn’t.
“Take my water tube,” he told her, turning, his arm against her shoulder, holding the tube out to her.
Aly took the capsules one at a time. It hurt so damn much to swallow. But she did it, drank a lot of water and didn’t complain. She could feel Patterson watching her. Monitoring her. “What time is it?”
“Zero five hundred. Sorry, 5:00 a.m. to you civilian types,” he teased.
She smiled a little. “Sergeant, I’m a military brat. I know Zulu time. I’m pretty familiar with military lingo, okay?” She looked up and saw his white teeth against his painted skin. Warmth flowed through her, calming her. Taking away some of the adrenaline burning through her bloodstream, making all her senses even more alive than normal.
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled.
“Call me Aly. I hate military formality.”
He chuckled as he tucked the tube back underneath his epaulet. “Fair enough...Aly.”
“Can I call you...? What?”
“Josh will do. You ready, Aly?”
“Yes, let’s go.”
This time Aly was determined not to slow down as much. Within twenty minutes her airway had improved. She wasn’t in the world’s best shape, but she kept up with his slow trot, the leaves sometime swatting at her. Josh seemed to know where he was going. Every time she thought about Duarte and Rusak, terror sizzled through her, made her want to keep up with the pace Josh had set for them. She had no idea how long they’d run but she suddenly realized there was grayness to the misty-looking sky. Her breath was coming in harsh gasps; her lungs burned with exertion and her leg muscles ached, as well.
“Let’s take a break,” Josh told her, slowing as he pushed the NVGs up on the rail system of his helmet. His eyes adjusted rapidly; they could push on without the goggles. He turned. “Remove your NVGs. You don’t need them anymore.”
He watched her hands tremble as she slowly eased them off her eyes. Josh got his first good look at Aly Landon. The left side of her face was bruised and swollen. And then, there were deep purple bruise marks around her throat. Rage moved through him. She looked lost. Like someone who had been abandoned by the world, her eyes huge and dark blue as she lifted her head and met his gaze.
Josh felt his heart do more than twinge when Aly looked soulfully up into his eyes. He saw terror, pain and hurt in them. As his gaze dropped from her long nose to the shape of her opened lips, he felt his lower body tighten. Groaning inwardly, Josh wanted to roll his eyes and swear. God, her lips were...well...world-class. The lower lip was naturally a pout, her upper lip softly bow-shaped, a little less full. The corners of her mouth were deep and curved upward. He bet she had dimples when she smiled or laughed. But she was doing neither right now. The sheen of perspiration made her face glisten in the early morning light. Tendrils of ginger-colored hair curled at her temples from the high humidity. Her brows were thin and arched; a frame to emphasize those long lashes that held those amazing marine-blue eyes of hers. Yeah, she was soft-looking, all right. But Josh reminded himself of his image of her when she was twelve, terribly injured, critical, but fighting her way back.
“How’s the breathing now?” he asked, pulling out a protein bar and handing it to her.
“Thanks.... Better.”
“You weren’t rasping as much,” he observed, quickly eating his bar, looking around, his ears keyed to any sounds out of the ordinary.
“How far have we come?”
“Five miles. Not enough.” If he’d been alone, he’d be twelve miles away, but he said nothing. She felt bad enough, beaten up, her life threatened continually.
Aly chewed little bits of the bar, unable to swallow hardly anything, but she knew she had to get energy back into her body. There was no way she was ever going back to Duarte’s villa. She’d die first.
“How far should we be?” She looked up at him, thinking the camouflage paint hid his face to a degree. Aly wondered what Josh Patterson looked like without it. Despite his size, his large hands, he had a gentle touch with her. And he tried to not sound gruff to her, she realized. It spoke of his sensitivity and she desperately needed someone who wouldn’t batter her any more in any way.
“A ways more,” Josh replied, finishing his bar. He noticed she winced every time she swallowed a little bit of hers. His hand moved into a fist and he relaxed it. Those bastards. Anger threaded through him. A part of him wanted to hide her, to go back and find those who had hurt her and put them out of their misery. Permanently. It was wishful thinking.
As he watched her eat, the way her lips moved, he could feel himself growing hard. Not what he’d expected. But there it was. Aly wasn’t model-beautiful but she had a natural beauty that appealed strongly to him. And more than anything, she wasn’t a whiner. In fact, Josh knew she’d be the last person to tell him she was hurting. Life had toughened her up early because she’d lost her mother at twelve. Josh couldn’t imagine losing his mother at that age. Mothers were damned important because not only were they nurturers, they were protectors; they made their children feel safe.
Had Aly Landon ever felt safe since she lost her mother?
“How are you doing?” he prompted, holding her shadowed gaze. She was taking mincing bites. She needed to eat the whole thing, but they didn’t have that kind of time. Josh weighed leaving now or waiting for her to finish. That would be another ten minutes. A mile further in his mind; half a mile with her in tow.
He cursed himself for noticing how her T-shirt was damp and darker between her breasts. And then, which he realized with a start, that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Worse, he saw her nipples standing out against the fabric. His mouth thinned while he instantly jerked his gaze off that area of her body. She didn’t need to feel threatened by him, too.
“Did Duarte have dogs at the villa?”
“I don’t think so. I never saw any. Why?”
“Because they can be used to follow our scent. Hunt us down.”
“Oh...”
He saw the sudden terror come to her eyes, her lips compressing.
“They aren’t going to catch us,” he told her firmly, holding her unsure gaze. God, he wanted to wrap his arms around her, to squeeze her and tell her everything would be all right. But he wasn’t sure of anything with Duarte. There were at least twenty drug soldiers he’d counted. And Josh knew they’d be sending them out to find them. He’d been careful; choosing areas to cover his tracks, taking her over small streams here and there and walking along a stream if it was going where they were headed. Still, he knew a good tracker could follow them, but he hadn’t made it easy.
“I’m sorry this all happened,” she said lamely, shrugging, wincing because her left shoulder where Rusak had grabbed her that first day on the trail, was injured. Aly thought there might be a ligament tear in her shoulder. “I’m sure your wife is going crazy wondering where you are. If you’re okay...”
The utter sincerity in her eyes gut punched him. What was it about Aly’s blue gaze, those deep-set sapphire eyes that seemed to gently look through him, to see him clear to his soul? Frowning, he muttered, “I don’t have a wife that has to worry about me.” Adding, more gruffly, “Or a girlfriend. So stop worrying about me. Okay?” Josh knew she didn’t have a steady man in her life, at least not according to her file. But he never trusted files.
“Do you have someone back at the Charity that should be contacted?” he asked, hoping there wasn’t. He saw sadness come to her eyes for a moment and then it disappeared.
“Once. But not now,” she admitted. “Did you contact my charity in Manaus? Let them know I’ve been rescued?”
Josh grimaced. “The only one who knows I’ve extricated you is your father and the boys at Langley. That’s where it stays until I can get you ninety-five miles away from here where we can pick up that U.S. Navy Riverine boat.”
He was privately euphoric over the fact she didn’t have a man in her life. He felt as though he was getting sucked into her and, more surprising, he wasn’t fighting it. What was it about Aly Landon that totaled his heart?
Aly was a victim right now. She hadn’t flirted with him. She just seemed like...well...a lost little girl. Oh, she wasn’t a girl. He knew that, but every time he saw that momentary expression of utter abandonment flit across her face, those sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, it got to him. Why?
“I’m ready,” she said, tucking the wrapper in her pocket.
“How’s your throat?”
She managed a quirk of her lips. “It’s okay.”
“Wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” He grinned a little, catching her glance. A blush spread from her slender neck up into her face, emphasizing her freckles. It was then he realized she felt the connection, too. The one that sizzled, popped and throbbed between them.
“What good does it do to complain?” Her voice was stronger. Conviction settled in her eyes as she stared up at the Marine.
Josh shook his head. “Because it’s me asking, that’s why. I want to know, Aly.”
He wondered how many times in her young life had she been hurting without her father there to comfort her. To ask her if she was all right because he could see the pain mirrored in her eyes. And then, he saw her falter, her brows dip, confusion in her gaze and that soft mouth of hers parting. God, how he wanted to taste her mouth. Feel how soft her lips were beneath his.
“Sorry,” she said, avoiding his look.
Aly chewed on her lower lip, trying to get a handle on her escaping emotions. Just by the way Josh had asked her, she knew in her heart he really did care. “I, uh... I’m not used to people asking me such a question, is all.”
To hell with it. Josh moved forward and slid his arms around her hunched shoulders. “Hey,” he murmured, folding her against him, feeling her yield, feeling her move without hesitation against him. “You’re worth caring about. All right?” For just a moment he inhaled the scent of vanilla in her hair, realized how firm and yet soft she felt against him. Even more importantly, Aly had not resisted, as if she needed exactly what he’d just offered her. A moment of sanctuary. A second to feel safe.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_b851009a-0bc0-5223-91ba-8b3670e271fe)
Aly pressed her face into Josh’s shirt. It was damp with sweat, it smelled of him, and she dragged his masculine fragrance into her nostrils as if it were life she was breathing into herself. His arms held her snug, but not tight. Closing her eyes, for just a moment, she wanted to feel safe. Really, honest-to-God safe, when she knew she would never feel that way. But with him...with this tall, strong Marine whose smile melted her heart and made her yearn again, she was confused, wanting and needy.
He awkwardly caressed her hair, as if trying to make her feel secure. And she did feel his genuine warmth—even if it was an awkward attempt—more than at any other time in her life. She wanted to slip her arms around his narrow waist, to pull closer, to never be let go. But Aly knew she was being romantic and unrealistic, as her father would accuse her. Yes, she was.
Gently she pulled out of his Josh’s arms, his masculinity still surrounding her. It had felt so good to be held. To actually have someone who cared for her. So much of her life, especially as a nurse, she’d cared for others. She’d given until she was exhausted on every level. Aly didn’t regret it.
Looking up at Josh, she saw his eyes burning with desire. For her. It shocked her and she stepped back, wildly aware of her breasts, her tightening nipples thrusting against the damp T-shirt she wore. Tearing her gaze from his, she whispered, “I’m ready to go.”
Aly was blushing. It became her. Josh started to apologize. For what?
