Three Courageous Words

Angela waited for the man to invite her forward.

When he did, she sat cross-legged across from him, and Buck sat beside her.

Uluru joined them, setting the toddler on his feet. The child wandered off to play with a stick.

Angela studied the man, searching his face for any signs of illness. “You are well?” she asked.

Abu Hanafi nodded, his gaze going to Buck and back to Angela. “Who is this white man who dresses like one of our people?”

Buck sat up straight, meeting the man’s gaze with a strength and confidence Angela had to admire. “I am Dr. Vega’s fiancé.”

The elder continued to stare at Buck for a long moment, as if sizing him up. Finally, he gave a single nod. “Why are you here?”

Angela realized the elder wasn’t speaking to her, but to Buck. In deference, she let Buck respond.

“There was an attack on the government building in Bentiu. We believe it was Koku. Then his men attacked the refugee camp,” Buck said. “My men and I got Dr. Vega and her nurse out before they could be harmed. We all need a place to hide until after the sun sets, at which time we will leave.”

Abu Hanafi’s brow furrowed. “You have brought danger to my village?”

“We hope not,” Buck said. “But we will leave as soon as we can.”

“Or we could leave now, if you think we have endangered your people,” Angela said softly.

A long silence stretched between the elder, Angela and Buck. Finally, Abu Hanafi nodded. “You will stay until dark. However, if trouble follows you, you will leave sooner. Too many of our children have been stolen by Koku and his men.”

“Koku has taken children from your village?” Buck questioned.

“He takes our young boys to fill his army,” the elder said. “We are forced to hide them in the bushes when Koku is in the area.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Angela said. “I wish we could do something to stop him.”

“You have to know where to find him,” Buck said, “in order to do anything to stop him.”

Once again, Abu Hanafi studied Buck. “You are not a doctor.”

Buck shook his head. “No, sir.”

“You are an American soldier?”

Buck tensed beside Angela. “No, sir.”

That penetrating gaze pinned Buck to his spot. But Buck wasn’t giving the man any more than he already had. “Sir, we should move our vehicle before Koku’s people see it and report back to him.”

Abu Hanafi waved his hand. “Go.”

When Angela rose to her feet, he touched her arm. “My people owe you a debt we cannot repay.”

“You owe me nothing,” Angela assured him.

The elder dipped his head. “I can only repay you in friendship.”

“Which is the most important payment of all.” She held out her hand to the man. He took it in both of his. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome.”

Uluru led them through the house and back to the van. “You can park in the trees at the base of the bluff,” she said.

“Thank you.” Angela strode back to the van, anxious to get away from Buck and the chemistry he seemed to be stirring up inside her. The faster they resolved the issue with Koku, the quicker she could get back to helping others.

She hoped it happened sooner rather than later, because all those old feelings she’d had back in medical school seemed to be bubbling up inside. Losing him the first time had been bad enough. She feared the more time she spent with Buck, the more dangerous he became.

To her heart.

Chapter Three (#ulink_06382241-6ec6-58b1-8ae7-2857d80dc565)

Buck and Angela returned to the van, where several of the SEALs stood outside the vehicle.

Having taken over the conversation with Abu Hanafi, Buck allowed Angela to take the lead this time.

“We can stay only until after dark,” Angela jumped in without preamble. After informing them of where Uluru had indicated they could park the van out of sight of the road, Angela announced, “I’ll walk.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Buck said.

The only hint she wasn’t happy with his announcement was the tightening of her lips. “Suit yourself.” And she started toward the hillside.

Diesel cranked the van’s engine, the SEALs piled in and the van passed Angela and Buck on the way to the hiding place.

Angela waited until the people in the van were well out of hearing distance before she said, “Did you ever consider I might not want you to walk with me?”

“Yes.” He lifted a shoulder. “And I ignored it. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you anywhere alone.”

“You left me in Chicago,” she shot back.

The anger and hurt in Angela’s voice twisted a knife in Buck’s gut. “We’re in South Sudan, a volatile nation filled with murderous people” was all he could push past the tightness in his throat.

“Like Chicago?” Again, she was quick with her comebacks. Sadly, she was right.

“I had reasons for leaving when I did,” he said.

Angela spun around in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. “I wouldn’t know, now would I?” She poked a finger at his chest. “Because you didn’t bother to tell me what they were, or even that you were leaving. I had to find out from your roommate, after you were long gone.” She smacked her palm flat against his chest. “You’d think any kind of man would have the decency to tell his girlfriend he was skipping town, quitting college and joining the navy. But then, you weren’t even decent—”

Buck grabbed the woman’s arms and yanked her against him, crushing her lips with a bruising kiss. He’d never wanted to leave her, would rather have slit his own throat than hurt her. And now, seeing her in front of him, her eyes alight with fury, her cheeks blooming with righteous indignation, he couldn’t resist.

This was the woman he’d never been able to forget. The kiss started out raw and angry but quickly turned hungry and desperate. He remembered her lips, the way they felt beneath his mouth, the curve of her body against his and the way she leaned into him when she gave her whole self to the kiss.

At first she was stiff in his arms, her palms on his chest. But she didn’t push him away. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she loosened up until she was leaning into him, giving back every bit as much as he gave.

When at last he was forced to surface for air, he drew in a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers.