The Marine's Embrace. Beth Andrews

brunette whirled on her high heels and walked away, shoulders back, head high, belly leading the way.

      Leaving him and Fay once again alone in the too-small room.

      Fay covered her face with her hands, murmuring under her breath. Zach glanced at the door. At his escape. Wished like hell he could take it.

      But he’d never been good at walking away when someone was in trouble.

      He really needed to work on that.

      “Are you all right?” he asked, harsher than he’d intended, but damn it, he’d thought his superhero complex had died in that blast in Iraq, along with his arm and leg.

      Looked like he was putting the cape on once again.

      “I’m sorry...” Fay gasped from behind her hands, and he waited for the rest of her apology. Waited for her to say she was sorry for the drama. Hell, she apologized so much, he wouldn’t be surprised if she took the blame for global warming, the price of gas and his injuries.

      “I’m really sorry, but...I can’t...” She lifted her head, her gaze terrified. “I can’t seem to breathe...”

      Shit.

      Her hair was damp at the temples, her face pale, her body trembling. She was at the start of a panic attack. He should know—he’d had more than a few since waking up in the military hospital in Germany three days after the explosion. Times when the fear was so real, he wanted to run, if only to escape his own thoughts.

      But he wouldn’t leave her. Couldn’t.

      She needed him.

      He gestured to the chair. “Sit down.”

      She remained rooted to her spot, her eyes wide, her body rocking slightly, her fingers curled into her palms.