Eye of the Beholder

“Sore.”

He used her voice to zero in on her position, then sat down and groped in front of him. His fingers brushed her knee and he heard a sudden intake of breath. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot you scraped the skin there in your fall.”

“It wasn’t bad. It’s not bleeding anymore.”

“It probably wasn’t deep enough to leave a scar.”

“I’d say my appearance is the least of my worries right now.”

She wouldn’t feel that way once they got out of here, Rafe thought. He traced her leg downward, grasped her calf and brought her foot to his lap.

Her palms slid over the floor behind her. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the damage.” He ran his fingertips over her injured ankle. There was a spongy swelling where he judged the bones should be. He felt his way down to her foot. “Can you move it?”

“Yes.” She wiggled it. “A bit.”

“Where are your shoes?”

“They fell off on the trip here.”

“I don’t think your ankle’s broken, just twisted. But you won’t be able to walk far on it tonight, especially barefoot.”

“You can’t very well carry me in your condition.”

“Not for long, no.”

She hesitated. “You could make it on your own.”

How could she think he would even consider that? Rafe wondered. On the other hand, she had no idea how he felt. Why would she? He had trouble figuring it out himself. “When we go, we go together.”

“But if I can’t walk…”

“Then we get a vehicle. Trust me, Glenna, I’m not leaving you.”

Trust me. She didn’t really have a choice, Glenna thought, yet she had trusted him from the first moment she had looked into his eyes. Now all she needed to do was to hear his voice, and she believed him.

Was it some kind of side effect of their situation? she wondered. Or maybe it was all wrapped up with this new lease on life she suddenly had, something to do with not squandering the time she had left.

Whatever was behind it, she didn’t want to deny her feelings. He was wide-awake and very aware, yet that sense of intimacy she had felt when she had touched him earlier hadn’t faded. If anything, it was deepening.

Rafe’s hands were large and strong, like the rest of him. His fingers were warm against her skin. His inspection of her ankle was justified and completely clinical…and yet her nerves tingled at his touch.

He was a Delta Force commando. He really did storm hijacked planes and rescue people for a living. Who would have thought that a man who did what he did could be so gentle? Like his surprisingly soft hair, like the laugh lines around his eyes, there was much more to Rafe Marek than the tough exterior. She leaned forward and covered his hand with hers. “Thank you, Rafe.”

“What for?”

“You saved my life.”

He set her foot on the floor. “Sure. From the frying pan into the fire. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly home free yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m still better off than I was. You gave me another chance at life, and I’m grateful for the way—”

“I was doing my job,” he said gruffly.

Why did her gratitude make him uncomfortable? She smiled. “How much do they pay heroes these days?”

“Hero? You’ve got the wrong man, princess.”

She didn’t think so. She curled her legs to the side and leaned closer. “Rafe?”

“What?”

“Would you hold me?”

“Listen, Glenna, you don’t know what you’re saying. I’ve seen this happen before in hostage situations. You’re feeling the strain of the situation and—”

“No, I’m feeling chilled,” she said, calmly interrupting him. “I used my jacket for your bandage.”

He hesitated. “So you did.”

“That left me with just this sleeveless shell, but if it would bother you…”

He muttered something under his breath and pulled her into his arms.

Glenna sighed as she fitted her cheek against the hard curve of Rafe’s shoulder. She was no fool. She knew their situation was grave. And he was probably right. She was feeling the effects of stress…but she didn’t care. This man had given her a reprieve from death. Was she going to waste it?

No, she wasn’t. She was going to savor every moment. From now on, she would rather have regrets for something she had done, rather than something she had restrained herself from doing.

Who knew how much longer either one of them would be alive? And when was the last time she had shared anyone’s embrace? She couldn’t even remember.

That was a rather sad commentary on her life, wasn’t it? She could remember practically every word that was said at the meeting she’d attended yesterday. She could recite the phone numbers of florists and staffing agencies in every major North American city where a Winston hotel was located. She had a gold-embossed leather day planner that was filled in for the next two years…but she had no idea when she had last felt a man’s arms around her.

Rafe’s fingers splayed over her back, urging her to lean more fully against him. “You might as well try to get some sleep.”

“I doubt if I’ll ever sleep again.”

“You’re still feeling the adrenaline,” he said. “You’ll crash when it wears off.” He moved his hand to her neck and brushed her hair aside to rest his fingertips over the pulse beneath her ear. “Relax, Glenna. I’ll keep watch.”

Could he feel the way her heart pounded? she wondered. Did he know how wonderful his skin felt against hers? She had never been comfortable with casual touching. She preferred a handshake to a hug and an air-kiss for a greeting. But somehow she needed to touch him. “Thanks, Rafe.”

“No problem. You need to rest and recover your strength. As soon as you can put more weight on your ankle, we’ll make our move.”

“But—”

“We’ll get out of this. I promise. I’ve been in worse spots. The whole key is you’ve got to keep a clear head.”

“Control,” she murmured. “That’s what I kept telling myself in the plane.”