Cover of Darkness (10 page)

"Why not?"

"The final divorce papers were supposed to be delivered this month. She might already have sent them in to her lawyer, I don't know."

Oh, poor Spencer
. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, thanks." He lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes. Faint grooves around his mouth hinted he was in more pain than he let on. "She just couldn't take me being in the Teams. I'm away so much and I can never tell her anything about where I've been or where I'm going, and even when I'm home I'm training all the time. It doesn't exactly make for a close, trusting relationship, right?"

She nodded, waited for him to continue. Her heart ached for him.

"It's hard for the women," he said. "A lot of marriages don't work out in the Teams."

No, they didn't. Just look at the awful mess Rayne's mom and dad had gone through. She thought of all the scenarios she encountered as a social worker, ran through the likely causes of divorce. He seemed like such a nice guy, she couldn't imagine him hitting his wife, so...

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"And were you...I mean did you ever, you know...cheat on her or anything?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why, because I'm in the Navy and we sailors are supposed to have a girl in every port?"

She held up her hands, flinched and dropped them as her wounds pulled. "Hey, I'm just asking. Didn't mean to offend."

"Christ no, I never cheated on her. Have I been tempted?

Sure. Would I ever act on it? No way."

"Oh. Well um...that's good then." She stayed silent, giving him the opportunity to keep talking about it if he wanted. The least she could do was listen.

"I even thought about leaving the Teams, hoping that would make her want to work things out, but..." He let out a ragged sigh. "Truth is, it's probably too late now anyway.

We've grown apart too much to fix it, even if she was willing.

I don't blame her, really."

He didn't blame her? Well, why the hell not? It took two, didn't it?

No, she told herself. Don't go there. It really wasn't any of her business. No reason for her to put in her two cents worth.

But dammit, she was outraged on his behalf. If his wife had been through what they had in the last two days, out there in the field with terrorists on their heels, she might have been more understanding. Watching the SEALs in action was something Bryn was never going to forget. She had half a mind to call Spencer's wife and tell her exactly how close he'd come to dying—to protect a total stranger.

The anger felt good after all the fear she'd suffered. Too good, and she let herself go with it until the hard words 92

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crowded in the back of her throat. Riding a wave of righteous rage, she couldn't stop herself from blurting, "If she married you knowing you were in the Teams, then she should stick by you."

Spencer's smile was weary. "Bryn, you don't know what it's like for her when—"

"Oh, yes I do. My best friend's dad was a SEAL, and you know what? Over twenty-five years ago he left his family thinking he was doing them a favor, and to this
day
his wife pines over him. Trust me on this, Spencer, she would move heaven and earth to make it work with him. You think your wife has it tough? Maybe. Nobody said it was going to be easy, but she can't just up and quit like that. That's not how it works." She huffed out a furious breath. "So the way I see it, she didn't deserve you anyway. If she's ready to give up, then you're better off without her."

His hand rubbed over his chest as if it ached, his expression chagrined. "Well, shit. Tell me how you really feel, why don't you."

She lifted her shoulders. "Sorry. Just saying."

Oh, man, she'd love to get his wife on the phone and tell her off. He could easily have bled out last night. He and the others put their lives on the line every time they went to work, even for training. She was living proof of their skill and bravery. No way would she have survived without them.

As the silence grew and held between them, Bryn regretted shooting her mouth off. Ranting about how his wife was a loser and didn't deserve him probably wasn't the nicest thing to say, especially not to someone recovering from a 93

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serious gunshot wound. The anger drained away as quickly as it had come, leaving her filled with guilt. Oh, hell. Blame it on the Demerol. Now she wanted to crawl over to him and hug him.

"Spencer, I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to say that."

"Nah, it's okay." He cleared his throat, shifted his gaze over to her.

She took the eye contact as a good sign. Maybe he didn't hate her.

"You know," he murmured, "I probably didn't seem thankful at the time, but I appreciate what you did out there.

I owe you big time."

Bryn's cheeks went pink. She hadn't done it to be heroic.

Anyone would have tried to help him. "Don't be silly. I didn't do anything—"

"Except drag his sorry two-hundred-pound ass behind cover while taking enemy fire," Dec interrupted from the doorway, making her heart stutter, "and then stop him from bleeding to death."

Dressed in clean fatigues, face freshly shaven, he strode over between the beds and clasped Spencer's hand. If she'd thought he was hot with stubble and greasepaint all over his face, now he was heart-stopping. So tall and muscular, his dark hair and brows a startling contrast to his golden eyes.

He grinned down at Spencer before shifting his gaze to her.

Even his teeth were amazing.

"Isn't this cozy? Just look at you two."

Self-conscious, she made a face at him. He stood there so clean and fit and strong while she was covered in bandages 94

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with only a sponge bath to take her body odor down to a dull roar. She wanted to wash her hair so badly she could have screamed.

"Did you come for something important, or are you here to gloat about how healthy you are?"

Dec's eyes lit with amusement. "Not feeling so hot, huh?"

"That's an understatement. I've been blown up twice now in four days. Makes me bitchy."

He smothered a laugh and sat on the bed next to her hip.

A glance at his hands showed he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. This close she got a whiff of his soap and a hint of clean cologne. Her body temperature went up a couple degrees. "I just checked on your dad. No change yet, but he's holding steady. Thought you'd want to know."

"Thanks." His thoughtfulness made her throat close up and the word came out in a husky rasp.

"I brought you something."

She appreciated his changing the subject. "Yeah?" Let's see... what had he brought to cheer her up? A chocolate bar maybe? Or a bag of chips? No—an icy cold can of Coke. Oh, God, she'd kill for that right now. Her mouth watered.

Instead, he pulled a piece of paper out of one of the pockets in his camouflage pants and unfolded it, holding it out for her to see.

Bryn stared at the purple crayon drawing of a heart-shaped medal. She glanced up from the paper, glowered at him. "Tell me you're joking."

"What?" he asked, all innocence. "It's a purple heart."

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He pinned it to her hospital gown with a safety pin, the brush of his fingers against her left collarbone making her heart knock against her ribs. She stared at his hands.

Powerful and elegant at the same time.

"Took me all morning to find a purple crayon."

"Where's mine?" Spencer demanded.

"Yours is coming," Dec informed him. "But Miss McAllister is a civilian, and she wouldn't have gotten one if I hadn't made one for her." His white, even teeth flashed as he grinned at her, dimples irresistible. "Wear it with pride, sweetheart. I don't know any other woman half as tough as you. I think you just might have made it through Hell Week, you know that?"

His amazing eyes showed something close to affection.

Bryn fingered the paper medal, ridiculously flushed by his compliment. "Nah. Sleep deprivation would've made me ring out after the first night."

"I don't think so, sweetheart."

Bending down to smooth the hair from her face, he made her blush even more. She almost leaned into his touch, but managed to hold back at the last second.

He shook his head in wonder, dimples peeping again in his clean-shaven cheeks. "You're something else, Bryn McAllister, you know that?"

And before she knew what he was about, he leaned over her and pressed his mouth to hers.

Bryn stiffened. He was kissing her! Heat roared through her with stunning force. His mouth was shockingly soft. He kissed her with a lingering thoroughness, his lips warm and 96

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firm but tender. He waited until she'd thawed a little before pulling back to gauge her reaction and hovered there, watching her eyes, then dipped back down for another slow taste. Her fingers curled helplessly into his t-shirt. Every nerve in her body seemed to go haywire, a pool of lava forming low in her belly. When he finally lifted his head she'd forgotten her own name. She wanted to grab him by his muscled shoulders and kiss him senseless, and he knew it.

His eyes smiled as he regarded her.

To regain control of the situation, she pushed him back and cleared her throat, stomach jumping with nerves. "Are you headed back to your base?" Did SEALs stay on a base?

"Or is it an aircraft carrier?" A nuclear sub, maybe.

"In a couple days, maybe. For now we've got to clean up the rest of that cell we tangled with."

Her heart seemed to stop beating for a second. "Tonight?"

She hated the thought of him going back out there, now knowing full well what kind of danger he'd be in.

He held her gaze. "Best time to hunt is at night. That's where we're in our element."

"Yeah, and I'm laid up with a busted leg and a patched artery," Spencer said glumly from beside them.

"True," Dec agreed, "but look who you get to room with."

Spencer sighed and closed his eyes with a smile. "There is that. I still haven't thanked her properly, by the way. You interrupted us before I could finish."

Dec sat back and gestured to her with a sweep of his arm.

"Be my guest."

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"I can't do it with you watching," Spencer complained. "I'm waiting until you leave."

Dec raised his eyebrows. "Oh? And just what are you going to do to her that you don't want me to see?"

Spencer shrugged. "Some more of what you just did, only better."

A nurse came in and checked his vitals, then adjusted the flow of the IV drip and over his protests added another dose of pain medication.

"It will help you sleep," she insisted, coming round to check Bryn's bandages. "And you, too," she informed her.

"You both need it."

"Can you just put a little bit in mine?" Bryn pleaded. She hated feeling woozy, hated throwing up even more. Especially in front of the man who'd just lit her body up like the fourth of July with one kiss.

"Stuff makes me puke," Spencer grumbled sleepily.

"Me too," she sympathized, watching with a sinking heart as the nurse gave her a full dose anyway. She didn't want to fall asleep while Dec was still here, and she wanted no part of vomiting in front of him. Already the drug had her eyelids feeling heavy.

The nurse fixed the blankets around her, snorted in amusement when she saw the paper medal pinned to her chest.

"Hey, I earned that," Bryn said, covering it defensively with one hand.

"You sure as hell did," Dec agreed.

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The nurse pointed a finger at him. "You've got one minute, Lieutenant, then these two need to rest."

He gave her a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

Bryn's heart leapt as his long fingers twined around her hand.

"You get better, okay?"

"I will." He was going to leave, just like that? After he'd kissed her? Disappointment swamped her, but the morphine was tugging at her, pulling her under.

"I'll be in touch with you when I get stateside," he whispered, smiling down at her. "If that's okay."

"Okay." She tried not to sound too enthusiastic, but it was hard to tell if she pulled it off with the narcotic floating through her veins. She watched helplessly as he walked to the door. "But I didn't give you my number."

He stopped inside the doorframe to look back, his eyes laughing at her. "I don't think that'll be a problem."

As he disappeared from view, fear for his safety made her panic.

"Dec!" she called, fighting a losing battle with her pain meds.

He stuck his head in the door a moment later, brows raised expectantly.

She opened her mouth, closed it, memorizing his handsome face in case she never saw him again. "Be careful,"

she managed.

His dimples flashed. "Always."

"And thanks—for everything."

He winked. "Anytime, sweetheart." Then he was gone.

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To ease the ache in her chest she sighed heavily and closed her eyes against the sting of tears. It was the medication, she told herself. That was why she felt so weepy and alone. Nothing to do with the fact her father might die and Dec had just left.

"Hey, pretty lady."

She swung her head around to look at Spencer. "Okay, you
so
can't mean me."

"Sure I can. I want to thank you now before I go into hibernation, so lean over, will you?"

"Wha—?"

He grabbed hold of her bed railing and dragged it across the floor until it touched his, then palmed the back of her head in one hand and kissed the breath right out of her.

When he released her, she fell back against the pillow. She hadn't really thought he'd do it. As far as thank-yous went, that was a first for her. There'd been no heat in it on either side, though, just his heartfelt gratitude. Not at all like the volcanic rush of Dec's kiss.