Lindsay McKenna - Risk Taker

She gave him a mutinous look, grabbed it and pressed it against her nose. “Thanks,” she mumbled, rolling over to her hand and knees.

“Are you hurt? Can I get you over to the dispensary?” Ethan held out his hand, but she refused it.

“I’m all right!” She tried to rise, but her knees buckled beneath her.

Ethan moved swiftly, catching her before she hit the ground again. “Okay, look,” he coaxed in a low, even voice. “You aren’t in any shape to be going anywhere just yet. Did he hit you?” Dumb question: he could see she’d been struck. He was trying to talk her down so she’d become reasonable.

“Hell, yes, he hit me!” She glared up at him, breathing hard, gripping her uniform closed so he couldn’t see her bra beneath it.

“Where?” Ethan asked quietly, as if he were talking to a fractious horse he was trying to settle down. He knelt near but kept his hands off her. He didn’t want a broken nose.

“The head. He jumped me from behind, the sonofabitch!” She glared over at his unmoving body.

Ethan looked at her dust-covered brow and noticed swelling on her right temple. “He tried to knock you out.”

“Ya think?”

Ethan nodded, knowing Blue Eyes was in shock. Her hand trembled, and there were tears in her eyes. “Well, he won’t do it again,” he promised her. Assaulting any officer was a major offense, and the man would be going up for court-martial.

“I hope you killed him. I wonder how many other military women he’s stalked and jumped and then raped?” Her lower lip quivered with fury as she looked accusingly up at him.

Ethan saw Tolleson coming with a set of towels, a washcloth and soap in hand. He gestured sharply for him to get his ass over there pronto.

Tolleson skidded to a stop, his eyes widening as he looked down at them and then at the unconscious man. “What the hell happened?”

“The guy jumped Blue Eyes—I mean...” Ethan gave her an apologetic look, making a point of looking at the last name embroidered in black across the top of the left pocket of her flight uniform, “Chief Warrant Officer Benson.”

Tolleson nodded, stepped back and pulled a radio out of his cammie pocket. He called the military police and gave them their location. He looked down. “Do you need medical help, Chief Benson?”

“Hell, no! I just want to get out of here and get back to my tent.” She looked down at her dusty uniform.

Ethan felt sorry for her. She was angry and upset. He could see her tremble as adrenaline raced through her bloodstream. “I can walk you to your tent, Chief Benson. Tell me what you need?” She seemed to calm a little beneath his quiet tone. Tears splattered down her cheeks, making trails through the dust.

“Just help me up, will you? I need to get to my tent and get cleaned up.” She reluctantly held her hand out toward him.

Ethan stood up and wrapped his fingers around hers, gently pulling her to her feet. She wobbled on unsteady knees. Her attacker had nearly knocked her out. A dark fury moved through Ethan. Delta Dude and his team had remained in the canteen. Had this Army sergeant been waiting for the first woman who walked by to attack her? Had Blue Eyes been at the wrong place at the wrong time?

Ethan cupped her left elbow. “Come on,” he urged her quietly. “I’ll take you to your tent. Just give me directions.” He felt a shift, as if his whole life was about to change.

Chapter 2

Sarah felt her knees going. Again. God, why couldn’t she just tough this one out? The SEAL who had intervened and saved her hide swiftly reacted. In seconds, he’d picked her up and brought her into his arms.

“Put me down,” she ordered angrily.

“Can’t do it, ma’am. I’m taking you to the medical dispensary.”

Ethan’s voice was low and firm. His arms were strong. Sarah closed her eyes, fighting the urge to simply surrender to him. The rage she felt over the attack was dissolving as the adrenaline slowly left her system. She was exhausted and, worse, weak. A feeling she hated more than anything.

“You can relax,” Ethan told her, his lips near her hair. “There’s a time to fight and a time to take a step back and reassess the situation.”

Sarah also felt needy, which was so unlike her. His voice was soothing, and the anxiety rushing through her abated. He carried her easily, as if she were a feather, and yet Sarah knew she was no lightweight. As she held his green bandanna over her nose, the blood continued to leak out of her nostrils. Her nose burned like fire and her head throbbed.

She looked up at him. He glanced down at her. His beard, although well trimmed, made him look even more dangerous to her. His eyes were a light gray with large black pupils, like those of a raptor.

“Doing okay?” Ethan asked her in a conversational tone.

“I’ve had better days,” Sarah muttered. She saw the corners of his mouth lift slightly. There was such tightly held tension in him. She’d seen him move so damn swiftly when he saw what was happening to her; it left her stunned. He was grace, tension and power all in one decisive action. “You’re a SEAL?”

“Yeah.” Ethan laughed to himself. He hid a part of himself from his SEAL brethren; he journaled and, sometimes, wrote poetry to express what he saw or experienced. It was a way to get his emotions out instead of always putting them in his kill box, which was what all his brothers did.

She saw his focus. He was carrying her through rows of tents, alert and missing nothing. Intense. That was the word she’d use for this SEAL. Slowly, Sarah reluctantly relaxed into his arms. He had a powerful chest and a broad set of shoulders that looked like he could carry the world on them. Even though his face was hard and nearly unreadable, she sensed kindness in him. Maybe it was his full mouth, now pursed, holding back feelings she couldn’t even begin to decipher.

“You can put me down now. I’m okay.”

Ethan smiled at her. “Not a chance.”

“The pilots in my squadron will make fun of me. I really need to walk.” And she hated pleading, but she added, “Please?”

His straight black brows dipped a little at her request. There was hesitation in his gray eyes. Sarah touched her aching throat where the bastard had gripped her and held her down.

“Tell you what,” Ethan murmured. “If any of those Black Hawk drivers give you grief because I’m carrying you over to the dispensary, you let me know.” He gave her a slight grin. “I’ll settle it out with them privately and personally. Okay?”

Sarah sighed. “Are all SEALs stubborn?” She heard and felt him laugh.

“We’re a hardheaded bunch, I suppose. I’d like to think we’re focused and intense about our objective.” And right now, he couldn’t believe he was carrying Blue Eyes in his arms. He was in another kind of shock. A good kind, but he wasn’t about to share his euphoria with her.

Ethan turned a corner and up ahead was the two-story dispensary that had been built out of cinder blocks. It wasn’t very large, with only two Navy doctors and a small staff of two nurses and several combat medics manning it. When any serious medical issues came up, the person was flown directly to Bagram Air Base near Kabul.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, glancing down at her. She was very pale. Those beautiful blue eyes of hers were shadowed and frightened-looking.

“Whipped,” Sarah admitted, feeling safe enough in his arms. She would never admit that to the male pilots she flew with. They’d call her weak once they found out what had just happened to her. And then they’d brutally tease her or tell her it was her fault, that she’d invited the attack. She hated that.

“I’m Ethan Quinn. What’s your first name?”