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At Tucson International Airport, Damien returned the rental car and waited for the next available flight to San Diego. He prowled the airport then settled in the lounge and nursed a scotch until his flight was called—the red-eye flight. He thought to sleep for a couple of hours but his mind took him on an erotic journey of the love he had forced himself to leave behind.

* * * *

While Damien dozed fitfully in the air, Laurie lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling.

Damien invaded her thoughts, keeping sleep at bay. She was alone. She was tired. Sleep should have been fast and deep after everything she had endured. She sighed and rolled over. But sleep eluded her. He had said he would come back to her. If he did, she would welcome him with open arms and a full heart. But letting him go again would get harder every time she said good bye.

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Maybe a clean break was best, she mused. Damien did not want emotional entanglements so she kept her love to herself. But she had no doubt he read it in her eyes. She would never have made love with him if she had not been in love with him. She simply was not made that way.

They had shared a wild passion she would never forget. With a ragged groan, she accepted that she would never banish him from her mind and certainly not from her heart.

She let the memories roll over her. Every kiss, every touch, every murmured word and endearment, sent yearnings through her body until she squirmed restlessly. It wasn’t just passion, she knew, though that was extraordinary beyond anything she had ever imagined. Those very vulnerable moments she had shared with him also endeared him to her. And it fascinated her that he slid into professional soldier mode in the blink of an eye.

Yes, he had lied to her and used her to complete his mission but at four in the morning, that fact did not seem to matter. Maybe in the light of day the sense of betrayal might return but for the moment, it was not important. She only wanted him with her.

“Why?” she whispered in the dark of her bedroom. “Why?”

But, uncertain of the exact questions, she had no real answers. She rolled over again, punched her pillow, and tried to force herself to sleep. Slumber finally stole over her but her dreams were filled with images of Damien and terrorists.

Her subconscious sent her back to the cabin, to that last night, and into Damien’s arms.

But in reliving those days, she soon found herself once again behind the tree at the edge of the terrorist camp. The scene took on the eerie, tilted-camera quality of a horror movie. In slow motion, she carefully aimed the rifle at the maniacally grinning terrorist sneaking up on Damien.

She squeezed the trigger. The action slowed to a crawl and she saw the bullet slice the air. But to her absolute horror, it missed the target and the terrorist fired.

“No!” That ragged denial shrieked into her brain as Damien fell behind the jeep.

Fierce screams assaulted her ears and jerked her into her dark bedroom. She was drenched in sweat and tangled in the bedclothes. The furious sobbing screams went on until she realized she heard only her own voice echoing in the room. She clamped her mouth shut and lay trembling in the dim light of early dawn, her heart pounding frantically in her chest. Gasping she sat up straight and pressed a fist to her heart.

Small feet pounded down the hall and her bedroom door flew open. Wide-eyed with fright, Stacy burst into the room.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

Struggling with the lingering vivid effects of the nightmare, Laurie drew Stacy into the bed with her.

“Nothing, honey—just a bad dream.” She tried to steady her voice. It wasn’t easy. The nightmare had been so real, so vivid.

“About those bad people?” Stacy asked anxiously, snuggling close.

Smothering a tired yawn, Laurie nodded and hugged her daughter tight. “It’s okay now.

It’s just a bad dream.”

“I wish Damien was here,” Stacy said sleepily. “He got them before. If he was here they’d never come back.”

“They won’t come back,” Laurie asserted as she settled Stacy under the covers with her.

“We’re safe, sweetheart.”

“I wish Damien was here.” Stacy yawned widely and fell silent, asleep again.

So do I
, Laurie thought tiredly,
so do I.

* * * *

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Monday morning, just a few days later, Laurie sent Stacy to kindergarten on the bus. In an effort to make things normal again, she retreated to her office upstairs. She needed to finish the final draft of her current manuscript, started before terrorists and Damien interrupted her routine. The cursor blinked at her form the middle of the page depicted on her computer screen but, her heart heavy with longing, she could not concentrate.

The shrill peal of the doorbell pierced the haze of her mind. Her heart lurched and she nearly jumped out of her skin. The hated surge of adrenaline sent shudders through her. Not expecting anyone, she stared at the open door of her office. Clamping down on unexpected, irrational panic, she cursed herself for over reacting like a scared ninny. When the bell rang again, she forced her body to move.

Everything Damien taught her rolled through her mind as she went down the stairs.

Prepared to do bodily harm to anyone she did not know, she grasped the doorknob with a shaking hand. She turned the knob, slowly pulled the door open—and reeled as shock drained the blood from her head. Damien stood on her door step, dressed to kill in a dark blue Navy uniform. Gleaming metals hung on his chest. His pistol rested in a gleaming white holster.

Her jaw dropped. Her heart stopped then lurched into a panicked beat. Her breath caught in her throat. She blinked but he still stood in front of her. He was not a figment of her heart’s yearning.

“Damien?” Afraid to break whatever spell held her, she hardly dared to breathe.

In a blur of movement, he had her in his arms and his mouth fastened on hers. Abruptly lightheaded in a rapid surge of desire, she staggered and clutched at his shoulders for support.

Her lips parted automatically to the invasion of his prowling tongue. Pure shocking sensation swamped her. Her head spun feverishly until, oxygen starved, she dragged her mouth from his to suck air.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded breathlessly as she stumbled out of his arms.

Only her hand curled around the door knob kept her on her shaky feet.

“I couldn’t stay away.”

As though stalking prey, he came after her and closed the door behind him. Caught in his burning gaze, Laurie gulped hard and stumbled. Her back hit the wall and she simply stared at him. He planted both hands on the wall by her shoulders and leaned into her, his mouth just a breath from hers.

Anticipation sparked a different kind of adrenaline into her overloaded system. He shifted position and pressed the length of his body against hers. That physical contact scorched her senses. She looked deep into his hungry eyes and lost herself in him.

“I told myself to stay away,” he growled and stared at her mouth. “I couldn’t. Where’s Stacy?”

“School.” It was a low husky murmur.

At the feral gleam in his eyes, her mouth went dry. She swiped her tongue over her lips.

He growled again, low and deep, then closed the distance and kissed her with drugging intensity.

His fingers interlaced with hers, he used his body to pin her to the wall. Need clawed into her gut, sharp and edgy.

Streaks of fire branded her skin as his mouth raced over her jaw and down her neck. His lips cruised. His tongue licked. His teeth nibbled. And her body burned.

Feverish, delirious, she groaned and squirmed, rubbing herself across the bulge in his trousers. His arousal inflamed her senses. He released her hands, grabbed her hips, and held her still against his aroused body. He lifted his mouth from her, rested his forehead against hers.

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“Keep that up and we won’t leave this spot,” he murmured huskily.

His warm breath drifted over her face, raising goose bumps on her sensitized skin. Lost in passion, lost in him, she grinned wickedly at him and rubbed her breasts on his chest. Her nipples tingled, pebbled, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. On tiptoes, she pressed her mouth to his and traced her tongue over his lips. Changing angles, he slanted his mouth over hers and took charge. Sharp claws of pleasure, intense and almost unbearable, dug into her heart as his tongue dug in and prowled her mouth at will.

Devouring her with hungry, mind-stealing kisses, he swept her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs. He found her bedroom unerringly, absently kicked the door shut behind him, and lowered her to the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared greedily at him. He looked good enough to eat in great big, delicious bites. Anticipating the taste of him, she licked her lips and moaned softly as she reached for him.

With slightly unsteady fingers, she unfastened the holster belt, slipped it off, and laid the belt and gun on the nightstand. Her eyes steady on his, she deftly unbuttoned the uniform jacket as he stood over her. He shrugged it off, flung it over the back of a nearby chair. Laurie fumbled with his belt but the buckle defeated her. Grinning, an amused sparkle in his eyes, he unfastened the belt.

She grabbed the waistband of his trousers and pulled him down. He sprawled across the bed and reached for her. Eluding his seeking hands, Laurie bounced off the bed. Floating on her power to make him want her, she took in his puzzled expression and gave him a sultry smile.

Swaying gently to a pagan beat that existed only in her head, she raised her T-shirt inch by slow inch to the firm swell of her breasts. His eyes wide with surprise, he linked his hands under his head and watched her. Before sheer nervousness could stop her, she slipped first one arm then the other from the short sleeves of her shirt. Pure feminine triumph swelled at the dark hunger in his eyes. Holding the shirt over her breasts, she turned her back on him then dragged the shirt over her head.

His low ragged groan of impatient need sent a surge of power through her. She reveled in it. He wanted her. He needed her. She wanted to make him crazy with lust. Ignoring the rustle of movement and fabric behind her, she hooked her thumbs into her waistband and, wriggling her hips seductively, slid her jeans and panties over her hips. She bent over, offering him a perfect view, and removed her clothes.

His sharp inhalation of air in the quiet room pleased her immensely. Completely naked, she turned and deliberately tortured him with her generous curves. His starving gaze raked over her and the wicked, teasing streak vanished. As her eyes roamed over his naked, fully aroused form, she only wanted to take and be taken—now!

He moved so fast she was stunned to find herself pinned beneath him on the bed. Barely leashed passion blazed in his dark eyes. Desire exploded anew in her whole system and she writhed restlessly under him. She wanted him. She would take him for whatever small time he spared her. She had no pride in this passionate onslaught.

With eager hands and mouths, they relearned all the erotic secrets they had shared just days earlier. Completely lost in a violent sea of sensation, she touched, wriggled, and stroked.

Reality faded until she was aware only of Damien. He found her mouth again as he teased her nipples with agile fingers. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth and she sucked on it, dragging a harsh groan from him.

His fingers tangled in her hair, he held her still and ravished with lips, teeth, and tongue.

His thigh rubbed her already moist center until she quivered in need. Lips and tongue slid over ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

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her skin, blazing a hot moist path to her breast. She arched involuntarily, offering herself to his raging hunger.

“Now, Damien. Please,” she begged her voice raw with her violent needs.

“Oh no. Not yet,” he replied, his voice rough with the effort of control. “My turn.”

Fast and lethal, his hands streaked over her. Lips and tongue followed, searing her senses, until his mouth closed over her turgid nipple. An answering tug of pure heat flashed into her. He drove her to the edge and held her there. She’d die if he didn’t take her now.

Tears of frustrated raw need spilled over her lashes. She writhed mindlessly in the storm he created. His mouth raced over her until she felt his breath on her inner thighs. Her neck arched. Her hips lifted in acute demand. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as his tongue slid over her. He grunted but only teased and tormented her. He gave her everything but what she so desperately needed.

Leaving her hanging on the sharp edge of ecstasy, he slid up and over her, his mouth covering hers with devastating carnality. Desperate, she slipped her hand between their sweat slick bodies and stroked him. He groaned into her mouth. She swallowed the sound, the very breath that uttered it, and sensed the thin thread of his control snap. He thrust, hard and deep, into her, filling her completely. She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. Caught up in a savage rhythm of razor sharp need, they climbed the peak and tumbled over it together.

Laurie blinked and struggled to drag air into her lungs. Damien lay beside her, his chest heaving with every harsh breath. Lost in the afterglow of love, she snuggled close to him, her head on his shoulder. Drowsy and sated, content, she glided her fingers through the sprinkle of hair on his chest. His arm curved around her, his fingers tracing idle circles on her arm. With a contented sigh, she slid her leg over his.

“I love you,” she murmured as her eyes drifted closed.

He froze. His hand stilled its gentle caress. Laurie abruptly realized she had said the words aloud. With a ragged groan at her stupidity, she jerked away from him. For whatever reason, he didn’t want love. At least, he didn’t want to hear the word. She bolted off the bed and, keeping her eyes averted, gathered up her clothes. Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked furiously to hold them back. Oh, it hurt—not just that he obviously did not return her love but that he did not even want it.