Page 46 of D-Day

“I’m wrestling with allowing my emotions to surface, to deal with them, and make sense out of my thoughts.” It was as if he was stranded on a high, narrow ledge. No matter what she did or said, it didn’t matter a damn unless he let go and took that first step. Nothing would change for him until he did. “I don’t want to hurt you. God, that would kill me, but I also can’t make any promises about the future.” Lifting a thick strand of hair from her damp neck, he tipped his head and kissed her shoulder. “I can only think of now, until I get you out of all of this.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to push you.” She rubbed her palm over his chest, the caress soothing and warm. “I just care about you, and I know this is so hard for you. It’s just like you to be straightforward and shoot from the hip and tell me you can’t make promises instead of glossing it over and telling me everything is fine when it’s not.” A glimmer of humorlit her eyes, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “I appreciate your honesty, and I just want you to know that I’m waiting for you, Andrew. Not exactly patiently, but I’m waiting.” There was the brush of her hair spilling against his skin when she leaned over and gave him a soft, seeking kiss. D-Day let his breath go in a shaky rush and took her face between his hands, moving her head in counterpoint to his as he took control and thoroughly explored her mouth. She let him take what he wanted, then with an unsteady sigh, she drew back. “And when you’re ready, I’ll be ready. That I can promise.”

He nodded, a tender feeling filling his chest. They stayed in the room adding in more noises that would be appropriate to the unspeakable acts a man could do to a woman, then he loosely tied her to the bed, leaving the sheet carelessly thrown over her lower body. She was lying on her side, just the way he’d left her, with her head turned slightly away from him, eyes closed. Her face was flushed, her breathing still choppy, and she’d draped one arm over her exposed breasts in a show of modesty. She looked ravaged, mauled, taken, and used.

He paused for effect at the door before he closed it and went out to eat, knowing that Lando expected that D-Day wasn’t done with her. They were playing such a dangerous game with so many unknowns, but the NPA would be here tomorrow, and it was time to end this.

Dakota “Bear”Locklear put Flint through his paces as the Malinois twined through his legs, mimicking his every move, his focus locked on Bear’s face for instructions. He couldn’t stand being inside one more minute while the time ticked by on the three missing members of his team.

The door to TOC opened and closed, but he was intensely working out Flint and didn’t even look.

A female voice said, “That’s pretty slick. He’s extremely well trained.”

Bear stopped moving and turned toward Bailee Thunderhawk. Not one to give anything away, he acknowledged that he’d noticed her right away. It wasn’t often that he came across a Lakota woman in his line of business, especially one with an intelligent spark in those fierce eyes of hers, and he sensed a strong spirit.

She was the first Native American spook he’d ever encountered, and he had to admit that it surprised him. Their people weren’t big on subterfuge, plain and simple, but what Bailee did took cunning, and hiding secrets was a way of life.

“He has to obey me immediately since both our lives could depend on it.” He crouched and rubbed at the dog’s face. With a hand signal, he gestured for Flint to stay as he walked over to Bailee.” He’d be lying if he said that she wasn’t one great beauty. Long silky black hair tamed into one long braid down her back, exquisite features, her skin smooth and brown, and he would see that mouth in his dreams along with those smoky silver blue eyes like a she-wolf. He often was careful of his partners, mostly because he was gone so much it was difficult to keep the kind of relationship he craved deep and meaningful long distance. So, add to the mix of his attraction to her, the fact that they were now working together.

“Why aren’t you inside waiting with your teammates for word?”

He shrugged. “Activity moves the body and the mind. I’m confident my teammates are working on the mission and will contact us soon.”

She leaned closer as if he was drawing her into a more personal space, her lashes thick fringing her blue eyes. “You're not worried about them.”

He smiled, giving her a sidelong glance. “They are my brothers, so my strength and my heart are with them.” Yeah, he was worried as fuck, but he trusted in their training and in them.

She smiled. “Spoken like a true warrior.” She reached out, gestured at his hair. “Navy regulation, huh?” She would never touch his hair without his permission, but the thought of her hands on him tantalized and intrigued him.

One of the many things important to his cultural identity had been his long hair. It was considered sacred and significant to who he was as an individual, a family member, and related to his community. Hair was considered an extension of the spirit, signifying personal strength and connection to the Great Spirit. It was disrespectful to throw hair away, so he burned it with sage in a ceremony, representing the end of something that once was and celebrated a new beginning.

He cut his hair to enter the Navy because of a significant loss in his family. His older brother had joined the Marines, but when he died, Bear made the decision to pick up the fight his older brother lost. “Yes, but there is a difference. I chose the Navy, and I chose their customs as my own. I wasn’t forced to cut my hair. I stay connected to the sacred ways in my own way, but we are part of this world, and evil lurks outside our borders. Again, I chose to be part of that fight. Our past is all about the sharpness of arrows…so being part of the tip of the spear is appropriate.”

He gave a hand signal, and Flint rose and rushed over to sniff at her. “Can I pet him?” she asked.

“Give him a moment to catch your scent,” he said, managing a cool, indifferent response while breathing in her fragrance, earthy, strong, and arousing.

“Pine Ridge,” he offered. Telling her where he was from.

She tilted her head, that thick braid falling off her shoulder. “You’re part of the Oglála. Cheyenne River for me,” she responded, giving him her place of birth and her tribe.

“Blackfoot.”

She nodded.

“I am surprised you chose a life with the CIA.”

She smiled. “Of course, that’s understandable,” she said cryptically. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you about it.”

“I would consider that an honor,” he murmured.

“Bear!” Gator shouted. “Buck gave us coordinates to their location. We’re spinning up.” He jumped up immediately and called Flint to him. Their conversation was over…for now. He was going after his brothers, and that was all he could allow to occupy his mind as she lingered like a sweet aroma in the air, one he couldn’t quite shut out. Damn her.

15

Helen woke before dawn,aware that D-Day wasn’t beside her. She opened her eyes and turned her head to find him standing near the bed. He was shirtless, but dressed in his camo pants and boots, a gun belt low and snug around his hips. He was checking his sidearm, the muscles in his forearms and biceps flexing with his every move.

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

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