Page 11 of D-Day

She abruptly tripped and almost fell, but not before Taer grabbed her arm. Her head shot up, shocked by him touching her. The people here were always so respectful of personal space.

He righted her, giving her the few moments she needed to get her balance back. His eyes went over her face, and he smiled. “You are beautiful woman,” he said, his voice a rasp.

“Thank you,” she said simply.Now let me go or you’re going to be singing soprano, she thought.

“Taer.” Greg’s voice was even but sharp. “Hands off my people,” he said, and that was nonnegotiable.

His eyes flicked to Greg, then back to her, that age-old rivalry between males who wanted the same woman. If she remembered correctly, in nature, it was often a brutal and violent clash. His dark eyes narrowed dangerously, so intense it cut off her breath for a second. But he let her go—for now, and that chill intensified, as his eyes seemed to take on a demon glow in the shadows.

After an hour of walking, they reached the small village, and Helen, Monique, and the two doctors started to assess the villagers’ health. She was caught up for most of the day. When it was time to go back to Manila, Helen stepped out of the makeshift tent they had erected, promising to return the next day.

As she started for the path, she slowed, noticing some men off to her left. They were clearly arguing, and her senses heightened. Her eyes went over the rough-looking male, and she froze in her tracks.

She knew him. Knew those breathtaking angular features, that tall, lean build. She would know that body anywhere; not many men had such a cut and honed musculature. She could see the play of corded muscles in his shoulders, back, and arms, his skin glistening with sweat, delineating every hard line of him from the bulge in his biceps and the strength in his forearms.

D-Day.

Andrew Nolan.

Drew.

Too easily, she recalled how all that firm skin felt beneath her hands, along with the heat and strength inherent in every inch of his body as he moved over her, inside her.

That stir of longing never went away when it came to this man, the tug and pull of desire deep inside of her was as natural as the wind and sky.

A breeze fluttered across the village, ruffling his long, golden hair around his head and at the back of his neck. Those thick strands, she knew, were silky soft as they sifted through her fingers, and it had been much too long since she’d enjoyed that tactile treat. Much too long since D-Day had allowed her to get close enough to touch him in any way that was intimate.

She wanted him to realize that what they had could overcome what he feared. But it had been six months of silence.

So, fate had stepped in? Was that how it was possible he was here in the same orbit as she was? In this shadowed, chaotic place, it seemed that anything was possible. She pulled in a hard breath. What was a Navy SEAL doing here, dressed in a white T-shirt, and a pair of sinfully tight jeans? She shivered, as tension crawled over her. Her heart thudded to a frantic, rhythmic beat.

They were surrounded in this wild, untamed land by very dangerous men, and she was quite aware that any type of recognition of him would put not only him at risk, but her medical team as well. He must be on a mission. He had to be.

At just that moment, the argument ended, and he turned toward her, every intense, scruffy, threatening inch of him with his unabashed confidence, and reckless aggression. Their eyes met, those hard eyes that missed nothing. His hair was much longer, but his deep soulful eyes were the same, a simmering blue that reached out and captured her as easily as she drew breath.

Even with the distance separating them, she could see the wanting, the aching hunger, the explosion of fear, and the excruciating pain in his expression. Her heart raced with the same emotions.

Then those beautiful eyes blanked out as if she was nothing but a stranger.

4

Chirpingbirds and the rush of water flowing not far from the village would’ve made this place a slice of paradise if it wasn’t for the intrusion of violence, greed, and intimidation that cast a shadow over these poor people. This area was controlled by the Ambong brothers, warlords who ruled the area with an iron fist. Doctors for the World wouldn’t be here without their consent.

Taer and Lando had “escorted” them to the village. Some of the people left before receiving care out of fear. The ones who stayed were anxious, constantly looking around like something bad was going to happen. Even the medical staff were on edge when they were here.

Helen sighed in relief as the last patient was treated. She and her coworkers closed up and walked out into the tropical heat, a long trek back to their vehicles in front of them.

Helen couldn’t move. There was D-Day in a conversation with Taer. She was transfixed after so many months of going without the sight or sound of him. She shivered, feeling the oppressive glare of Taer on her, his narrowed eyes assessing and searching.

Then she saw him out of the corner of her eye, not daring to look right at her brother, who was dressed as grungy as D-Day. Buck had the same looks on his face as his teammate: first fear, then a blank stare. She tried not to react, and it took up all her energy.

D-Day was aware of the moment she realized her brother was here and if he noticed, those eagle-eyed warlords wouldn’t miss it. She blinked and looked down to cover up any sign of recognition. When she raised her head, D-Day closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then he started toward her. That he wasn’t happy to see her was an understatement. The man was downright livid, and he didn’t have to say a word to express his seething anger. The tense set of his body, his clenched jaw, and his fuming silence said it all.

Despite the rapid beat of her heart, she remained right where she was, waiting to take her cue from him. His intimidating look and barely restrained temper were almost worse than him just shouting at her. She was quite aware that there would be a reckoning later on, and he’d vent all that resentment shimmering off him in waves.

She’d seen this man in many different moods, but this one was intense to the max, and he was disheveled, looking very sexy and rough around the edges. She knew he was lethal, but now he was driving it home. When he moved, anticipation tightened in her belly as he stalked toward her, slow and predatory, emanating a sexual kind of tension that seemed to increase with each passing second between them. When he reached her, he leaned forward, and she took a quick intake of air, breathing him in, a man who seemed like a stranger, dangerous enough that none of this seemed to affect him at all.

Gosh, he was so tall, with strong shoulders and slim hips, her gaze locking on the holstered gun strapped to this thigh. The expression on his lean, tanned face was stern, almost brooding.His golden hair tumbled over his forehead, looking damp and silky under the punishing sun. This close, she noticed the fading bruises around his eye and along his jaw.

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