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He winced.
Served him right. Would Jake ever grow up? He was twenty-nine, same age as her. And he had the personal irresponsibility of a fifteen-year-old hormone-driven teenager. Relationships meant nothing to him. She’d meant nothing to him outside of the bed. Even if Jake hadn’t grown up, Morgan had.
Holding up his hands, he rasped, “Look, that was a long time ago. I’ve changed.” He smarted beneath her accusations. Morgan didn’t know he’d married to settle down to raise a family.
“Really?” The word came out filled with derision.
“I’m waving a white flag. Can I surrender and we talk about the mission?” It was then Jake began to understand the depth of hurt he’d caused Morgan in the past. She couldn’t hide anything from him, no matter how hard she tried. Running his fingers through his short hair in frustration, Jake sat back, staring at her.
“A SEAL surrendering.” Morgan smiled a little, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Jake, you always say the right thing at the right time. The problem is, it doesn’t stick for long. You’re like the Velcro you use on your gear. Sticks when you want it to, rip if off when you no longer need it.”
“I’ve changed, Morgan.”
She heard an edge to his voice, his eyes going a slate-gray. That color meant he was emotionally upset about something. Her, most likely. Morgan took the last bite of the delicious hamburger and wiped her fingers on a nearby paper napkin. “You haven’t changed since I met you at Annapolis, Jake.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Well, I guess you’re going to have to find out differently on this op, then.” He paused for a moment. “Look, I don’t even know anything other than you’re a sniper. General Stevenson seems to think you’re very good at it.” He searched her hooded eyes. “Can we at least talk about that?”
“Sure,” she said, wadding up the napkin and dropping it on her plate. “Since becoming a qualified sniper, I’ve been out nine months out of every year with either SEAL or Special Forces teams in Afghanistan. I would be assigned when a team lost one of their two snipers and would take over that position as a straphanger.”
“You asked to go along? I’m trying to understand how this top secret Operation Shadow Warriors works.”
She sat back, arms across her chest. “I was asked to volunteer for it the second year I was assistant commanding officer of a Marine Corps company in Kandahar.”
Surprised, Jake’s brows rose. “You’d always wanted to fill a billet in a combat company.”
“Yes, and I got my wish.” Morgan hitched a shoulder. “In part, it was because I had four years of Pashtun language under my belt. My CO, Captain Davis, was desperate for anyone other than an Afghan terp, interpreter, he had to use to speak to the elders. He was trying to make serious headway with a number of villages, and he felt the interpreter was not giving him accurate info.”
“So, your minor in linguistics landed you in Kandahar?” he said, almost to himself.
“Yes. And when Davis found out I was a damn good executive officer for the company, he was a happy man. He gave me more and more responsibility. By the end of my first year I was running missions with the recon Marines. I’d rather be out in the field than in a stuffy tent at a hundred and ten degrees. At least outside, you can breathe in fresh, hot air instead.”
He smiled a little, nodding. “You always wanted combat.”
“I wanted a shot at what I knew I’d be good at, that’s all.”
“You must have been.”
“Davis gave me rave reports for my leadership ability. I had three months left in my second tour when I was invited to volunteer for Operation Shadow Warriors.”
“So, what does this operation do?”
“It takes volunteer officer or enlisted women who want to be in combat and they’re trained up for it. Then a woman is rotated into a SOF team, special operations forces.”
He shook his head. “You were with SEAL teams? I never heard anything about it.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “You weren’t supposed to, Ramsey. It was, after all, top secret. The men in that platoon signed their lives away legally on paper to the Pentagon, never to breathe a word of it.”
“Well, it’s sure as hell worked.” He couldn’t help but look at her left hand. No wedding ring, though he didn’t expect to see one. People in combat never wore jewelry. It could get hung up on a rifle and screw things up in a damned hurry. This didn’t mean she wasn’t married. He couldn’t ask. Morgan was prickly with him anyway, and he couldn’t blame her. He didn’t deserve much respect for what he’d done to her. He’d been a first-class bastard. But damn, she was hotheaded, and when she got wound up, he felt overwhelmed by her intense, focused anger at him.
Morgan allowed her arms to drop to her sides. “My gear is in Hawaii, at the Army barracks. I want to use my sniper rifle on this mission.”
Jake nodded. In a sniper op, there was one sniper rifle shared by both snipers. The other team member always had another weapon on him—or her, in this case—to protect the sniper and play rearguard action if they were discovered. “Okay. I’ll take an M-4 with a grenade launcher on it with me.”
“Good choice. Grenades come in handy upon occasion.”
“Oh? You found that out?”
She grinned wickedly. “Yeah, but that’s a story for another day. I’ve got a SIG Sauer 9 mm pistol. I’m assuming you’re bringing yours along, too?”
His mouth dropped open, and just as quickly, he snapped it shut. “How in the hell did you get your hands on a SIG?” It was a special German pistol made only for active-duty SEALs. He saw her grow sad for a moment.
“It was a gift,” Morgan admitted in a voice riddled with barely held emotions. “The Commander in charge of the SEAL squadron approved the gift to be given to me. He said I’d earned it even though I wasn’t a SEAL.” Her voice dropped, a hint of sadness in it. “He said I was a SEAL by proxy.”
“That’s—” Jake struggled for words “—a hell of a gift.”
“It saved my life a few times. Every time it does, I write to the Commander and thank him all over again. He gets a chuckle out of it.”
Morgan had always wanted to head into danger. It was in her genes. Now, from what she was saying, and Jake did believe her, she was in combat most of the time. “Look, let’s get over to Andrews. I’ve got my gear in the Jeep, and I need to stow it on that Herky Jerky, a C-130, we’re taking at 1100.”
Nodding, Morgan pushed the chair away and stood. “I’m going back to the hotel and jumping in my SEAL work uniform and boots. I’ll meet you at Andrews at noon.”
“Sounds good,” Jake said, standing there, feeling a bit overwhelmed. She was a woman. And she carried a SIG. And she was working in SEAL teams! Damn, what was the world coming to?
Picking up his cover, he left the cafeteria. No doubt, a lot had happened to Morgan, and she was closedmouthed about it. If she was going to be his sniper partner, he needed to know a hell of a lot more, because right now, he didn’t trust her with his back in a firefight.
Morgan had taken the opportunity to sleep, no matter how noisy and loud the aircraft around her was. She’d hung up her hammock in the rear of the C-130 and dozed off. By the time they landed in Honolulu, Hawaii, it was late afternoon because of time-zone changes.
Jake had slept a lot but had also worked on his Toughbook laptop, which every SEAL officer carried with him. When Morgan awoke, she figured he was probably trying to check up on her, find out what she was made of. Jake had such little belief a woman could be strong, resourceful or half as smart as he was.
As they walked into the terminal and requisitioned a military vehicle to drive to the BOQ, he seemed deep in thought.
They located the dark olive-green car in the black asphalt parking lot; Morgan breathed in the warm, moist air. “I love Hawaii. It’s one of my favorite places on earth.”
Jake smiled a little, responding to her unexpected spontaneity. This was the Morgan he knew from his Annapolis days, and he wanted to see more of that side to her. But would she reveal herself? To do that she had to trust him. Not an easy issue to resolve in two days’ time. Not with their spotty record. “They’ve got a nice pool at the BOQ.”
“I want to grab my swimsuit out of my duffel bag and head for the beach.” She gave him a droll look. “You’re a SEAL. Water’s your home.”
“Is that an invite to come along?” His hopes rose. Maybe another six hours of sleep had put her in a better mood. The serious look on her face melted his heart. He wanted her so damn bad.
“Up to you. After all these flights, murderous jet lag, I need to move into Mom Ocean’s arms and just be.”
“I’ll come along in case some nasty undertow starts to drag you away. Or some shark decides to think you’re a delicious dessert.”
She shook her head as she opened the driver’s-side door on the military car. Reaching in, Morgan sprung the trunk open so they could put all of his equipment, including his duffel bag, into it. “You SEALs own the water. But somehow, Ramsey, I don’t need any rescuing or protecting.” She slid into the car.
Jake felt his spirit lift a little. Morgan was more like her old self. The woman he knew. The woman who loved so damned hotly that he felt scalded inside and out by her raw sensuality. Climbing into the car, he said, “Maybe you’ll have to rescue me, then.”
She threw her head back, husky laughter rolling out of her. God, how he’d missed that laugh. And yet, Jake knew she was an emotional minefield. As badly as he wanted her to surrender to him, he knew she didn’t dare. He couldn’t break her heart the way he knew he would. Not ever.
“Mmm, I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Morgan sighed, the warm ocean water moving slowly around her. She had swum out beyond the breakers with Jake, floating on her back. The sun was lower in the sky, dapples of light dancing around on the smooth, turquoise water.
Sharks were big in these waters. And by floating on her back, Morgan would look like a sea turtle to one of them. “The water was a good choice.”
Barely opening one eye, Morgan saw Jake treading water nearby. He hadn’t shaved since this morning, and the dark growth made him look dangerous in a sexy kind of way. “Your dad was a SEAL.”
Jake nodded. “Yes, he was.”
His shoulders were incredibly broad, tightly muscled, his chest darkly haired and well sprung. Morgan remembered his body as if it were yesterday, much to her consternation.
“Did he teach you a love of water, I wonder?” The water soothed her aggravation and always having to be on guard against Jake. The warmth lulled her, made her feel safe.
“No. I taught myself to swim. My father wasn’t around much.” He had died when he was twenty, killed by an enemy in a foreign land, but Jake had never told Morgan. Jake allowed the wave to push him closer to her. The dark purple bathing suit was one piece, but on her body, it made her look like a Titian or Raphael woman.
Morgan had a tall, proud frame. She was all legs, and Jake watched the water flowing sensually across them. Frowning, he saw what he thought were several new, pink scars on her left, upper thigh. He couldn’t see much, because most of the scarring was below the water surface. Were these the injuries she’d gotten when Khogani had attacked that Afghan village? He didn’t like to think her beautiful flesh was scarred. Or that she’d suffered pain, because he’d made her suffer enough. Morgan didn’t deserve it. She was a good person with a trusting heart. Well, she had been trusting…. He’d taught her to trust no man.
Lifting her head, Morgan forced her legs down into the water, gracefully moving her arms outward to steady herself. Jake was close and terribly handsome, the water running off in rivulets down his face to his neck and shoulders. His eyes went slate-gray again, as if realizing her question had probably dug up a lot of unwanted and hurtful memories from the past.
Morgan wanted to reach out and simply rest her hand on his shoulder and tell him it was all right. In some ways, Jake had been born behind the eight ball, and he’d had to struggle all his life for everything he’d earned.
A wave splashed her, and she wiped the stinging salt out of her eyes. Jake continued to be a big SEAL guard dog. “You think a Big White’s gonna see me as a turtle out here, don’t you?”
His mouth drew into a hesitant grin. “Something like that.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Ramsey, you’re a piece of work. You really are.”
“What? Can’t I make sure you can enjoy your swim? What’s wrong with being watchful? There have been plenty of shark attacks on the beaches of the Hawaiian Islands.”
Spitting out water she’d accidentally swallowed, Morgan shook her head. “Someday, I hope you stop being so damned overprotective, Jake. You were that way with me at Annapolis. You never thought I could take care of myself once because I was a woman.”
“Look, I don’t want to argue with you, Morgan. We got a job to do.”
The growl in his tone was a warning. His face went blank and unreadable, a glitter in his icy gray eyes. “That’s right—we do have to get along or we’re both dead meat out there on some godforsaken, ass-freezing Afghan mountain.” Morgan lifted her hand and flung off beads of water and pushed the wet strands off her face. “Your mother contracted multiple sclerosis when you were ten years old. I remember you were the one saddled with being her caregiver until you were eighteen.” Her voice lowered with feeling. “Jake, I know you loved your mother, but you grew up fast in that family because your father was never there. You took care of her until she died when you’d just graduated high school.” She noticed how his eyes went stormy. Morgan gave him a pleading look. “You think all women are weak because your mother was weak. You think because you had to take care of her 24/7, you have to burden yourself thinking you have to take care of me out here. You don’t, Jake. You don’t….”
Chapter Five
They had just returned to the BOQ after having a Thai dinner at Morgan’s favorite restaurant in Honolulu. The moon was rising in the east, the Pacific Ocean gleaming with a pale corridor of light across the darkened ocean. Jake put the car in Park, the low sulfur lighting revealing a crowded parking lot in back of the building. His hands tightened on the steering wheel for a moment. It was time.
Morgan released her safety belt when he said, “We need to talk.”
When Jake’s voice lowered to that intimate growl, she couldn’t refuse to look at him. Her heart skidded in her breast. As Morgan turned and met his shadowy gaze, he placed one arm across the back of the seat, his hand less than an inch from her shoulder.
“What do you want to talk about?”
Jake compressed his lips. He moved his fingers lightly across her shoulder. It was the first time he’d touched her in two years. “There are some things we need to discuss. Get right between us. We’re going downrange tomorrow morning, and we have to be focused.”
“Yes,” she admitted, her flesh needy as his calloused fingers barely brushed her blouse. Though aching to kiss him, to rekindle what they’d had before, Morgan fought herself. Jake would walk away again, like he always did. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Us,” he said huskily, seeing confusion in her green eyes. “You’ve had an apology coming from me for nine years. Back when we were at Annapolis together. We were twenty years old then.”
His fingers came to rest on her shoulder, as if to steady her in some small way for what he was about to say. With a mix of anguish and uncertainty in his gray eyes, he was being vulnerable with her. The only time she’d ever seen him like this was when they’d made love.
“For what?” Morgan managed, her voice tight with defensiveness.
Taking an uneven breath, Jake plunged in. “Your miscarriage…”
Bowing her head, Morgan shut her eyes, unable to look at him. She’d not seen this one coming. Her heart squeezed with old pain. His fingers became more firm on her shoulder. Steadying. “What about it?” she said in a broken whisper.
“Neither of us wanted it to happen. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” His mouth thinned, and Jake forced himself to go on. “Morgan, when you needed me the most, I wasn’t available.” He felt her tremble. “I’m sorry to bring this up, but I haven’t liked myself very much ever since it happened. I should have stayed at your side after I got the call from the hospital.”
Morgan went very still. He couldn’t even hear her breathing. He braced himself for her reaction, knowing he had coming whatever she wanted to throw back at him.
Hot tears slipped beneath her tightly shut eyes. As much as she tried, Morgan couldn’t control them. Jake moved his hand across her shoulder, as if to soothe away some of her raw pain. At least he wasn’t running now. So many emotions flooded her: the grief over the miscarriage, needing him to hold her in the aftermath, his absence.
She could feel Jake watching her in the thickening silence. She fought with everything she had not to cry.
Finally, Morgan lifted her hands and covered her face. She took several broken breaths. The past overwhelmed her. “I never expected you to say you were sorry,” she whispered bitterly. “Never.”
Jake wanted to touch her hair, to touch her. He wasn’t sure what Morgan would do if he tried. Pain moved through his chest. “I owe you the apology. I’m so damned sorry, Morgan. I’ve had a long time to think about my actions. I was dead wrong.” He did not expect her forgiveness. When she raised her head, turned and stared at him, her eyes were marred with darkness, and he felt as if he’d been gut punched.
“Let me fill you in,” she began hoarsely. “I was a twenty-year-old girl. You were my first and only lover. The doctor had me on the pill, which you knew. I was three months pregnant and didn’t even know it. I felt odd on some days, but I just shrugged it off as the stress everyone was under at Annapolis.” Morgan pushed tears angrily away from her cheeks. “It was February, Jake, and I contracted a horrible flu. I lay in my room with a one-hundred-and-five-degree fever. My roommate, Deanna, wanted to get me to the dispensary, but I refused. I was going to tough it out.”
His eyes narrowed. “I—didn’t know.”
“Deanna wanted to call you, but I said no. All you wanted was a good time, Jake. You just liked me in your bed. That was it. And God help me, I liked being there, too.” Morgan sniffed and went on in a robotlike tone. “Deanna left for a date. I was hallucinating, moving in and out of the fever. I thought I was going to die. I remember going to sleep. I woke up sometime later, maybe near midnight. I felt this awful, tearing pain in my womb, and I doubled over on my side, screaming. The next thing I knew, I had blood pouring out of me. At first, when I looked at myself, I thought I was having a bad nightmare. Deanna came back from her date and found me. She called 911. I remember just before I blacked out she held my hand, telling me the ambulance was on its way and not to die.”
Jake forced himself to hold her marred gaze. “You were taken to the hospital. I knew that much.” Her eyes grew sad as more tears slid down her face.
“I woke up in E.R. A doctor was there and she was very kind. She told me I’d miscarried my baby, that my high fever had caused it. She said I’d be okay. She also said I was on too low a dose of birth control pills and that was why I got pregnant. She gave me a new prescription to ever prevent that from happening again.” She sighed. “Physically, I was fine.”
“Damn,” he muttered, “I’m sorry, Morgan….”
“Deanna called you when I was in the hospital. She told you what happened.” Her words came out shredded with disbelief. “You never came. You told Deanna you had other important things going on and couldn’t make it. I left the hospital the next morning feeling hollow, feeling lost.” She held Jake’s guilt-ridden gaze. “I needed you, Jake. That was our baby! On the way back to Annapolis, I figured out why you refused to see me. You thought by me being pregnant, I would become like an anchor around your feet like your chronically ill mother had been, someone you had to take care of for the rest of your life.” Her fingers trembled as she wiped the tears from her face. “You didn’t want a pregnant girlfriend. You weren’t going to get trapped by another weak, sick woman, were you?”
Sitting back, Jake removed his hand from her shoulder, a mass of grief and misery overwhelming him. Morgan looked like he felt. “It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made,” he managed, his voice low with apology. “I shouldn’t have abandoned you, Morgan. And I did.”
She sat there stiffly, struggling to grapple with all her grief and put it in a box once again, deep down inside herself. Jake’s gray eyes were stormy-looking, filled with remorse. Now that he had finally apologized nine years too late, it didn’t make her feel as good as she thought it would. If anything, she saw an answering grief in his expression. How would he know what it was like to lose a baby?
“The only reason you’re apologizing now,” Morgan said in a quavering tone, “is because we’re going downrange tomorrow. You don’t want anything to make us lose our edge.” She leaned against the car door, as far away from him as she could get. He withdrew his arm from the top of the seat. As Jake lifted his gaze, she could see how miserable he was over her story.
“No,” he rasped, his voice tight with emotion. “Whether you believe me or not, Morgan, I’ve matured since our last encounter.” His eyes grew dark with sorrow. “I’ve carried this guilt over my actions toward you. As much as you believe I didn’t care, I did.” Jake’s mouth tightened. “This was a chance for me to tell you to your face, I am sorry. I was screwed up, Morgan. This doesn’t excuse my choices. I wish in some way I could make up for it, but I know I can never do that.” He held up his hands. “I just wanted to be honest with you, Morgan, because I never was before.”
Morgan absorbed his admission. The silence thickened between them.
“At least you’re finally being emotionally honest. That’s new.”
Wincing internally, Jake sighed. “Morgan, I hope I’ve matured a little bit more.”
His gaze fell to her abdomen covered by the pink skirt. She’d held their child in her body. Their baby. Misery drifted through Jake in a new and unfamiliar way. He’d already lost his son, Joshua. This new grief hit him doubly hard. He’d made so many mistakes with her. “I thought you didn’t want a family until you were thirty or so?”
