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He looked down at their clasped hands. Hers was slender, delicate and soft; his was large, thick and imposing. Despite the contrast, he sensed the unexpected strength that had helped her fight off two men in a dark parking lot.
“Not a problem.” He grinned again and said, “I could’ve lied and said I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by, but I thought you’d see past that one.”
She chuckled and pulled back her hand. “Well, the medical center is a bit away from the Army base...”
They started toward the hospital’s entrance. She intended to walk him out, but before they had covered much ground, he placed a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Um, Claire. One more thing.”
She turned to face him and her eyes climbed hesitantly up the considerable distance to meet his. She swallowed and said, “Yes.”
“Will you have dinner with me?”
Claire took a half step back and bit her lip. Luke could tell that her mind was racing, hastily trying to come up with an excuse—any reason she could use to plausibly but politely decline his invitation. He cringed inwardly. He really didn’t want to beg, but he was willing to do whatever it took. Claire’s lips parted and he knew she was going to say “no,” so he forestalled her. Very quietly, he added one word. “Please.”
* * *
IT WAS THE “PLEASE” that did it, Claire mused later. Well that and the random, funny and sometimes oddly sweet smiles that contrasted so markedly with his imposing presence. It was also his intensity and the concern he’d displayed by coming to see her, despite being almost dead on his feet. It was his sharp, knowing hazel eyes with the amber flecks, and it was his impossibly large hands; hands that could obviously be deadly, given their size and strength, but hands that felt gentle, strong and protective when holding hers.
Claire took a shallow breath. She couldn’t hide her apprehension as she searched his eyes. Her nod was very slight, and she said, “I need to go report to the charge nurses and finish charting. That shouldn’t take more than twenty or thirty minutes. Do you mind waiting?”
The smile that crossed his face dispelled any lingering doubts. He gestured toward the playroom with his head. “I saw the latest iteration of Super Mario on one of the computers. You think I can interest one of the kids in a game?”
Claire’s smile mirrored his. “Yes, I’m certain you can. But I’ve got to warn you, they’ll beat the daylights out of you. Those kids are brutal!”
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_91fc6a44-4b61-5b17-879e-30b354c03e3e)
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Claire returned to the playroom. After reporting to her colleagues and completing her charting, she’d slipped into the nurses’ lounge where she quickly brushed her hair. For a moment, she thought about leaving it down, but she coiled her hair back into a knot and secured it with a large clip. She dabbed on lip gloss and rinsed her sweaty palms. Her last act before re-joining Luke was making a quick call to Jessica.
“Um, hey,” she said when her roommate answered. “I just wanted to let you know I’m going to be home late this evening.” She took a breath. “I have a date.”
“Fun!” Jessica replied. “Who’s the lucky guy? That cute doc who did his residency at Johns Hopkins?”
“Uh, no. It’s the lieutenant from Saturday—Luke.”
“What?” Jessica barely stifled a shriek. “Oh my gosh! How in the world did that happen?”
“He came by the hospital this evening to talk to me. It kind of took me by surprise, but, well, he seems nice, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know about nice, but he gives new meaning to the term ‘hunk.’” Claire heard her friend chuckle. “Now that I think about it, he did seem to be taken with you... Oh my gosh!” she repeated.
Claire glanced at her watch. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll fill you in when I get to the apartment.”
“Okay, but keep your phone with you all the time, and try to call and let me know how it’s going. Not that I don’t trust the lieutenant, but I want to make sure you’re safe and all.”
“Yes, Mother.” Claire smiled into the phone. “I’ll be careful.”
Clicking off, she glanced in the mirror again and noted that her cheeks were flushed. That wasn’t surprising—her heart rate must be well above a hundred. She grabbed her new purse and lightweight jacket from her locker and took a deep breath. “Well, here goes,” she murmured.
* * *
THIS TIME THEIR roles were reversed. Claire stood at the door and watched in astonishment as the very large American man sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by six Korean children and several adults. He was engaged in a heated video game match, and from all appearances, she concluded that he was getting soundly defeated by a twelve-year-old boy named Heen-nak.
Exaggerated groans and growls from Luke mingled with giggles, cheers and jeers from the children. Finally, Luke tossed down his control box. He clutched his chest and fell to one side moaning, “You got me... That’s it... I surrender!”
Several children, a couple clutching IV poles, mobbed him. After a few moments, Luke sat up and fist-bumped the young victor. “Great game, dude!” He glanced at one of the adults, who translated. The boy smiled shyly. Luke gently patted the boy’s head and glanced toward the door. Spying Claire, he stood. “Thanks again, partner. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll practice up some and maybe we can have a rematch soon.”
He waited for the translator and the young boy grinned and nodded his head. “Thank you, mister.”
All eyes were on the huge man as he strode across the room. Claire saw appreciation in Luke’s face as he moved toward her, and her heart rate intensified. No man had ever looked at her that way before, with admiration tempered by respect.
“Are you ready to go?” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.
Her own smile was shy and a little uncertain. “Yes, I’m all checked out and charted.”
Luke walked very close to Claire as they crossed the lobby. It was nearing dinner time and the hospital was teeming with patients, family members and hospital staff.
Luke was both more and less imposing than before. Wearing his uniform, he’d been disconcerting, simply because the clothing conveyed such authority. The loose-fitting uniform shirt, however, had camouflaged his daunting size. Although Luke’s polo shirt was not tight, Claire couldn’t help but notice the bulk of the heavy muscles in his chest and arms and the thickness of his neck.
Luke’s size probably attracted attention back in the States, so in Korea, he was nothing short of a giant. As a result, his efforts to study the crowd—trying to spot anyone who seemed unduly interested in Claire—were hampered by the fact that pretty much everyone was staring at him. He didn’t seem too concerned, however. Perhaps because any potential assailants would be forestalled by his presence.
Initially both Luke and Claire were a little stilted. Luke tried to break the ice as they exited the building. “Thanks for coming with me like this. I know it’s short notice and all...”
Claire peered up at him and realized that he seemed to feel as self-conscious as she did. That such a self-assured man seemed nervous helped dispel some of her own anxiety. “Thanks for asking.” She smiled then glanced away. “I haven’t gotten out much since I’ve been in Seoul. It’ll be fun to go somewhere other than Jessica’s apartment and the medical center.”
The early awkwardness was starting to crack and Luke seemed more at ease. “Really? So, you haven’t had a chance to see much of Seoul?”
“No. I’ve worked nearly every day since I’ve been here. On Sundays I’ve gone to church with Jessica, but it’s a little daunting because she attends a Korean church and almost all of her friends and colleagues are Korean.”
He seemed to take her disclosure as a challenge. “Well, let’s see what we can do about that.”
Claire had to tamp down a twinge of fear as they entered the parking lot. Luke noticed her scouring the area. He didn’t comment, but lightly placed his hand on her arm. He led her to a nondescript beige Kia sedan and opened the passenger door, ushering her in. She couldn’t help a slight giggle as she saw him folding into the driver’s side a moment later. “Is this your car?”
“No, thankfully,” he said wryly. “It’s part of Yongsan’s non-official fleet. Base personnel can check out a car on a first-come-first-serve basis. Believe it or not, this is one of the larger vehicles.” He grinned at her. “The only cars I fit comfortably in are full-size pickups and SUVs—not these mini things. Of necessity I’ve learned to manage.” He started the engine. “Any preference on what you’d like for dinner?”
She smiled at him, realizing that sometime in the past few minutes, she’d lost her nervous edginess. “Actually anything that isn’t kimchi and doesn’t smell like fish sounds great... In other words, I’d love something remotely American.”
He grinned again. “Pizza?”
“Perfect.”
“I know just the place. There’s an Italian restaurant on Itaewon that does a terrific Chicago–style pizza.” He put the Kia into drive and headed toward the exit.
“I’ve not yet been to Itaewon,” Claire said.
Luke chuckled. “Well, there’s a first time for all of us. I’m sure you’ve heard about it. It’s kind of a cross between 5th Avenue in New York City and New Orleans’s Bourbon Street. Plus, it’s only a couple of miles from the Yongsan Army Base, so there are a lot of servicemen and a number of...not particularly reputable people.” He looked a little sheepish. “Well, you’ll see.”
Fifteen minutes later, Luke pulled into a parking spot in a very busy commercial area and Claire was able to take in the street first hand. She saw bustling department stores interspersed with classy restaurants and dives. Coffee shops were adjacent to small stores selling everything from T-shirts to leather goods to gold jewelry to knock-off purses and shoes. Street vendors sold CDs, DVDs and cigarettes, as well as an assortment of food items—most of which Claire didn’t recognize and didn’t find particularly appealing.
During the three-block walk to the Italian restaurant, Luke kept Claire closely at his side, with his hand on the small of her back. Instinctively, she leaned slightly toward him, enjoying the sensation of protection. He didn’t stand out nearly as much here, as at least one-third of the crowd were Westerners. Many of the men and women were obviously military, although only a few were in uniform.
The restaurant they entered could have been located in any city in the U.S. Although it was crowded at the dinner hour, they were quickly ushered into a booth. Settled into her spot, Claire studied her surroundings. The tables were covered in white cloths and graced with small vases of flowers and votive candles. The aroma of garlic, basil and tomatoes permeated the room. The patrons were a decided mix of locals and visitors, mostly dining in pairs and small groups. A waiter handed them each a menu and in passable English asked for drink orders.
“Would you like some wine?” Luke asked.
“No, thanks. I don’t drink much, but go ahead if you wish.”
“Can’t tonight. I’m actually ‘on call.’” Luke requested a soda from the waiter.
“I’ll have the same,” Claire said, and the server nodded, saying he’d be back shortly for their order.
“On call for what?” Claire asked. “Is it for the embassy?”
“No, it’s for my day job. Actually, day, night, whenever job. I don’t exactly keep regular hours. The embassy gig is necessary because I’m Navy and they don’t have enough Marine officers here to do weekend duty—long story—anyway, I’m glad now to have done it because that’s how I met you.” His quick smile was genuine, and Claire felt an odd flutter in her stomach. She blushed and glanced down to her menu.
“So, tell me about your ‘whenever job.’”
He shrugged. “I review surveillance feeds all day and write reports to send up the chain of command. Sometimes I go into the field to verify impressions...pretty routine stuff...”
Claire doubted that anything he did was routine, but he seemed hesitant to go deeper. “How long have you been here doing surveillance?”
“About a year. Before that, I was stationed in several places—mostly the Persian Gulf and the Middle East.” He’d been studying her face and abruptly changed the subject. “You have the most unusual eyes I’ve ever seen.” His voice was quiet, with a pensive quality, almost as if he’d spoken his thoughts out loud.
Claire glanced down at her napkin and then back up to catch his gaze. “Yes, uh...” She shifted awkwardly and pressed her lips together. “It’s called ‘sectoral heterochromia iridis’ if you want the technical name. Basically, it’s just an irregular pigmentation of the iris.” She took a breath. “I’ve had to respond to questions about it all my life...”
He looked sympathetic but didn’t drop the subject. “So you get a lot of people staring when they notice?” It was both question and comment. “I get the same reaction when anyone sees my feet.”
His offhand comment startled a giggle from Claire, and she couldn’t prevent a side glance to the floor to study his shoes. He hadn’t been joking. Luke’s eyes crinkled at the corners at her raised eyebrows.
In seconds, she grew serious again. “When I was a kid it really bothered me when people said something about my eyes. I hated being different from the other kids, and I was really shy.” She looked up again; his gaze had not faltered. “Anyway, when I was old enough I made my parents get me colored contacts, so my eyes would just be brown. That helped a lot, but...” She sighed deeply. “Well, I was so happy with the contacts that I stupidly wore them all the time. After about a year, I ended up with pretty severe corneal ulcerations, and came close to needing a cornea transplant. That was the end of the contacts and so...” She gave him a small frown and motioned to her glasses.
He shook his head and murmured, “Kids can be dumb... I think they’re beautiful.”
The room suddenly seemed to be closing in and Claire felt a little dizzy. That feeling was accompanied by a lightness in her chest and tears threatened. She blinked self-consciously and returned her gaze to her napkin. Her heart rate soared and her stomach quivered. He couldn’t know that with that simple statement—with those four words—Luke had helped salve a wound that was more than twenty years old. In that brief moment, years of distress and embarrassment over her unusual eyes were replaced by a sense of release edging into quiet exultation.
He had called them beautiful.
Claire’s attention was brought back to the moment when the waiter placed cool glasses of Coke in front of them. “What you want to eat?” he asked.
Luke shifted his gaze to the waiter and said, “Sorry, we’re not ready. Can you give us a minute?”
“Of course. I will return shortly.” He moved on to the adjacent booth.
Slightly dazed, Claire took a sip to quench her suddenly dry mouth. Setting the glass down, she picked up her menu and tried to focus. She was not entirely successful.
“Their pizza is terrific, but they do great lasagna and pasta, too.”
Claire was still reeling from the emotional onslaught brought on by his comment, but she managed to say, “I’ve had my heart set on pizza since you mentioned it. I’m partial to pepperoni but hate anchovies. Otherwise, I like pretty much anything.”
“Got it. Note to self, in the future, don’t order pizza with anchovies.”
Claire smiled then, recognizing the implications of his comment. As Luke turned to get the attention of the waiter, his cell phone rang. He glanced at her and said something under his breath before pulling the device from his pocket. After scanning the caller ID, he pushed a button on the phone and growled, “Llewellyn.”
Although there was little overt change in Luke’s expression, she saw a muscle flex in his jaw. “How long ago?” He nodded absently at the response and looked pensive. “How many?...Have you notified ROK command?...Okay, contact them to be on alert status.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll be there in about fifteen.” Luke ended the call and then glared at Claire. Shaking his head, he sighed deeply.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve gotta go.” His scowl was almost comical. “Maybe I’m being punished for being mean to my brothers or not cleaning my room or something...” He got the attention of the waiter. “We have to leave. Please give me the check.”
The waiter nodded and said, “One minute.” He departed toward the kitchen.
“Anything serious?” Claire asked.
“No, not really. Looks like there’s a squid boat in the Japan Sea with too many people.”
She blinked. “Why does the U.S. Army care how many people are on a squid boat? Are they afraid the boat will sink?”
He chuckled. “Uh, no. But a larger-than-normal contingent of men could be a potential threat to the mainland. Most likely, though, they’re North Korean refugees.”
She nodded, her curiosity piqued. “But it’s night. How do you know how many people are on a random fishing boat somewhere out at sea?”
Luke gave her an enigmatic look but didn’t answer.
“Oh...I get it. If you told me, you’d have to kill me?”
He chuckled. “Nothing that dire. But I’m not going to tell you.”
She giggled and then became more serious. “What happens if they are refugees?”
His smile faded. “There are surprisingly few people who actually escape from the north. No one can get through the DMZ because of the mines and heavy fortification. A few hundred per year come through China, but the Chinese government really discourages that and will send them back if they’re caught—and it’s very bad for those who are sent back. Fewer people come by boat, mostly because they lack the resources and opportunity. At any rate, the ROK—Republic of Korea—never turns them away. There are lots of agencies here to help refugees assimilate...”
He was interrupted when the waiter gave him the check. Luke glanced at it then pulled several bills from his wallet and handed them to the waiter. “Thanks. We’ll try again tomorrow.” He rose and waited for Claire, then stood to one side, indicating that she should precede him.
“You know,” Claire said as they left the restaurant, “I’ve heard that when some people go on blind dates, they’ll have a friend call them an hour into the evening with an ‘emergency,’ to give them a way out...” She winked at him.
Luke scoffed. “Believe me, honey, this is not one of those times.” He looked relieved that she was actually joking with him. “Can we...um... Would you consider trying again tomorrow?” His eyes were practically pleading.
She smiled. “Yes, of course. But if you get another mysterious phone call before I get pizza, I’ll be very suspicious!”
“I promise. If you’ll come with me again, no phone calls!”
As they approached the Kia, he glanced at Claire. “What kind of identification do you have with you?”
“Huh?”
“Do you happen to have your temporary passport?”
“Well, yes.” She touched her purse. “Why?”
“What about a driver’s license or some kind of picture ID?”
