Course of Action: Crossfire (4 page)

 

Chapter 3

W
here was Cait? Dan lay sweating in a pool of pain in his bed, his leg hitched up, and he was unable to move. He hated the catheter and hated being confined to bed. He didn't sleep at night because of the nightmares about Ben's death. If he so much as twitched the wrong way, those damn screws would feel as if someone had poured scalding water around each of them, the agony nearly unbearable. He could always opt for more morphine and knock himself out for hours at a time, waking up feeling half-alive. Or half-dead.

He was desperate to see Cait. It had been two days since she'd washed him, blushing the entire time. He didn't dare tell her how good her hands had felt on him, sick son of a bitch that he was. Even now, he was thinking about sex. With her. But he'd been thinking of that with Cait forever.

It was after dinner and the ward was quieting down. Most of the men were lucky. They were not prisoners to their beds because they'd had their injured legs amputated. They were mobile in their wheelchairs, going for physical therapy daily while he was left alone in an empty ward. He envied them in one way but was glad he still had his leg, so he suffered in silence. Never would he ever take walking for granted again. Or being able to move around. Or getting up and out of bed when he wanted to.

“Hey,” Cait called from the door, walking to his bedside, “how are you doing, Dan?” She automatically slid her hand over his shoulder.

“Cait...you aren't a dream, are you?” he croaked.

She grinned. “No. Some guys, when they know they're coming to work with me in PT, have nightmares, though.”

He grunted and turned his head toward her, drinking in her fresh, clean look. Her red hair was gathered into a loose topknot, slightly askew, giving her a girlish look. She was wearing the unflattering light blue scrubs, but they couldn't hide her willowy body from him. “You're never a nightmare in my dreams.” Damn, but he was loose lipped. Seeing the surprise flare in her eyes, Dan muttered, “It's the morphine. Never mind me...” Well, it was a lie, but he didn't want Cait to realize how much she meant to him. Had always meant to him. His flesh radiated heat where her small, slender hand rested. She was gently grazing her fingertips up and down his forearm, as if to soothe him.

“Really? Dreams about me? Tell me about them?”

Not a chance. They're X-rated...

He needed to distract her so she forgot what he'd said. He licked his dry lips and gestured weakly toward the nearby table. “I'm thirsty as a horse. Could you?”

“Sure.”

Her hand left his arm and Dan groaned inwardly. He wanted Cait to keep her connection with him. The deep, aching pain in his leg went away when she made contact with him.

Coming back with a glass and straw, she placed it between his lips. “So, you have dreams about me, huh?” She gave him a wicked look, watching his Adam's apple bob up and down as he chugged eight ounces of water in no time. Pulling the straw from his lips, she felt her breasts tighten. Dan had such a male mouth, chiseled and strong. Cait lost count of how many times she'd dreamed of him kissing her.

“Well,” he muttered, wiping his mouth, “a few. Can I have another glass of water, please?”

Cait returned, sliding the straw between his lips once more. Heat flared in her lower body as her fingertips brushed the corner of his mouth by accident. Instantly, she saw his eyes narrow, the burning look in them startling her. Cait knew the look of a man who wanted his woman. Dan wanted her? Shaken, she held the glass steady as he drank the entire contents.

“You were really thirsty. Why weren't you drinking through the day?” she asked, pulling the tray over and setting the emptied glass on it.

“I don't know,” Dan grumbled irritably. He gripped the covers and released them. “I hate being trussed up like a pig going to slaughter.”

Cait smiled softly, coming closer, one hand on his lower arm and the other resting on his shoulder. “It's very hard, Dan. I wish...I wish I could do something more to help you, but you're on my appointment list in a little over five weeks from now.”

“You could sleep with me.” He raised his brows, eyeing her hopefully. At first she blinked. And then she flashed that wide smile of hers, eyes dancing with mischief. Dan had joked around with her a lot throughout the years. She thought he was teasing her, but he wasn't. Still, it was nice to see her reaction. To see the interest in her eyes. There was no other way to interpret what he saw, and it filled him with a rush of hope he didn't dare think about. “Not every night, of course. But it would sure be nice to have you in my arms, beside me. That way I could forget about my constant pain.”

Cait gave him a rueful look and shook her head, touching his jaw, which needed a shave once again. “You haven't changed at all, have you, Dan?”

He swallowed a smile. “I'll never change, Cait. What you see is what you get.” Dan patted the mattress. “Come sit by me, right here.” Damned if he didn't see momentary hesitation laced with outright yearning for him!
What the hell?
Was he so drunk on morphine that he was imagining her reaction? He had to be. Cait had never given him any outward sign that she was the least interested in him as a man.
Until now.
Dan swallowed hard, falling into her shimmering green eyes.

“Well...” Cait hesitated, looking toward the rest of the ward, “it wouldn't be right...against regs and all.”

“Is that all that's stopping you?” He said it half in jest, half seriously. And he wasn't smiling. Her smile slipped, worry coming to her eyes.

“I'm a by-the-rules girl, Dan. You know that. And I know you guys in Special Forces don't do rules, and like to break however many of them you can get your hands on.” She forced a smile, looking at her watch. “I've got to run...”

“What? A new boyfriend?” He kept his teasing light, just as he always did.

“Boyfriend?” Cait wrinkled her nose. “Not a chance, Dan. I'm done with men.”

“Uh-oh,” he murmured, giving her a wicked look. “Then that means I'm out of the running, too? No longer a contender for your hand, Cait?”

Her smile instantly softened. She reached out, touching a strand of brown hair near his ear, tugging on it. “When haven't you been the one?” she demanded, her voice oddly husky, her smile slipping. “I need to run, Dan. I'll try to drop by tomorrow sometime. Get some sleep. I worry about you.” She leaned over, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Dan felt shock ripple through him as her warm lips grazed his flesh. He could smell her scent, smell her spicy cinnamon shampoo. His lower body roared to life. At least this time he was covered from his waist down. As she eased away, Dan caught her hand. “Hey,” he growled, “I need at least one kiss a night to help me sleep. You'd do that for me, wouldn't you, Cait?” He looked solemnly into her widening eyes. “Just one kiss. Anywhere you want to plant it on me. It's a natural sleeping pill, didn't you know?”

She grinned and tugged his hair playfully. “Get out of here, Taylor! You're that same bad boy I've always known. With your usual bag of tricks.”

Dan released her hand. “And you love me because of that. I know you do, Cait Moore.”

Her smile slipped a lot, her eyes growing somber. She squeezed his hand. “Yes, you've always been the good bad boy in my life. You make me laugh when no one else can. And you make me smile.”

“And I'll keep doing it,” Dan promised, easing his hand from hers even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Give me a kiss once a day so I don't turn into a frog, and I'll keep you smiling and laughing.”

“What a deal!” Cait chortled, stepping away. She lifted her hand. “Sleep tight, Dan. Dream sweet dreams, okay? I'll see you tomorrow evening.”

“I don't want to turn into a frog, Cait,” he called as she walked toward the door. As his voice carried down the row of other beds, he noticed how her cheeks reddened and she was suddenly shy. Cait shook her head, gave him one last warm look goodbye and left.

* * *

Dan's heart leaped when he saw Cait enter the ward at 1800 hours the next evening. He'd just eaten with the rest of the patients in his ward, and most of them were settling down to watch the TV at the other end of the long, rectangular room. Cait arrived wearing a dark green T-shirt with cap sleeves, loose white trousers and sandals. She carried a Monopoly board under her arm and a flowery decorated bag over her other shoulder. Her hair was caught up in a ponytail this time, long and swinging behind her. Dan's heart took off and so did his lower body.

“I swore I was going to get a Monopoly game in with you this week,” she said, pulling the tray over and placing the board on it. She smiled and looked him over. “You got a haircut.”

“Like it?” He'd badgered the nurse until they sent a woman up to cut his hair late this morning.

“Well, it sure is a change from the surfer-dude look.”

“You don't like it?”

“It's just different. I'm so used to seeing you with your hair down to your shoulders, Dan. You know, fitting in over in Afghanistan or when you were surfing.” She brought the tray over and positioned it so that as he sat up, it was close enough to reach but allowed her to sit on the edge of the mattress opposite him.

“You mean I've lost my drop-dead good looks?” Dan wriggled his eyebrows. “I no longer entice you?”

Cait laughed. “I can rely on you to lift my spirits.” She placed the money along her side of the board, put the pieces on the board as well as the dice. “And you just look, well, more handsome.”

Pleasantly surprised, he said, “You'll be proud of me. I shaved myself today. I survived my time with the electric razor.”

“You look very much like a suntanned model who could pose for a men's health magazine.”

“Even with my leg strung up?”

“Yes,” she swore solemnly, trying not to smile. She gestured to the items on the board. “Choose your piece.”

Dan looked at the shiny gold metal pieces. “I like cars—I'll take this one.” Cait's cheerful mask slipped for a moment. Instantly, he knew she was grieving for Ben. His heart contracted with pain for her. “How about you,” and he nudged her hand, “what's your choice?”

There was nothing he could do to assuage her grief. Hell, he'd cried over losing Ben last night. She had to be in pain over the loss of her brother. Cait's eyes were suspiciously bright and he wondered if she'd cried recently. Dan wanted to do something...anything...to comfort her. But he couldn't do much in his present state.

“Ohhh,” Cait murmured. “I think I'm gonna take the french fries. I intend to be the top mogul here by the time this game is over.”

“Detroit will beat you out,” he promised, waving the car in her direction. He grinned, his heart lifting. Every time Cait looked into his eyes, Dan swore he felt yearning coming from her. She was close enough that he could smell her and she smelled so good. She'd always worn a local perfume that sent him into a crazed mode of need. The scent was subtle and combined with her feminine fragrance.

She rallied. “Have the guys in here told you I'm a mogul who wins nearly every game I play with them?”

“Yeah, Bradford was telling me this morning when I got my hair cut that you were a ruthless Boardwalk titan.”

She rubbed her slender hands together, grinned and said, “Oh, yes, I am.”

“He said you're the Queen of Monopoly on this ward.”

“That I am.” Cait gave him a playful look. “And now, country boy from Texas, you're in my sights.”

How he wanted to reach out, slide his hand around her slender neck, draw her forward a little, meet her halfway across that tray and kiss her senseless. Dan knew he could. He was a skilled lover with plenty of practice. “What's the perfume you're wearing, Cait?”

“What? Oh.” She suddenly smiled and touched the nape of her neck. “Pikake. Why?”

“It smells really good on you,” he said. A blush colored her cheeks.

“I've worn this same perfume forever. You know that.”

He shrugged. “Well, maybe I'm older now and appreciate it in new and better ways.”

This time, Dan didn't tease. He was dead serious and leveled a look at her that made it clear that he wanted her heart, body and soul. Her eyes widened and she blinked once, as if in shock for a moment over that very realization. And then she recovered, flushed redly and nervously touched her ponytail. “I—well, it's called Arabian jasmine. Remember? I told you a long time ago when you first smelled it and liked it? The story behind it?”

He nodded, moving the piece slowly around in his hand, fantasizing it was Cait's skin he was grazing. “Yes, in the nineteenth century, Princess Ka'iulana of Hawaii loved it.” It had a spicy note to it and made Dan's body hum with need.

“I don't think you forget anything,” she accused, nodding.

“Not when it comes to you, Cait. No, not a thing.” Dan knew he was on dangerous ground because she seemed shaken by his sudden seriousness. He was rarely somber with Cait, always the jokester and prankster in her life instead. She suddenly lost her cheerfulness and sighed, the metal piece between her fingers.

“W-when the Army sent two officers to my parents' home...and then my mom called me later...” She blinked and touched her brow. “Dan, I was so afraid you'd died, too. I asked Mom about it, and she said she didn't know. Only Ben was dead from what the officers said. I was so panicked about it, I called Joyce to ask if she'd been notified of your death...”

Grimly, he reached out and captured her hand beneath the tray. “I'm too damned mean to die. I was born and raised in Texas, Cait. It takes a lot to kill someone like me.”

He watched how she brightened, giving him a look of such longing it nearly broke him. It was then that Dan realized Cait needed to be held. Her mother had her father to console her. Cait had no one. But she had him, whether she realized it or not.