Travis sat back on his heels, his hands coming to rest on his long thighs, watching her. Madison was aware of their attraction. He could have moved those scant inches and captured that soft mouth of hers. Kissed her. And she’d seen that awareness flare in his eyes when he’d drawn close to her. Damn, why couldn’t she have been less gorgeous? She watched as he hauled his ruck over and pulled out a protein bar. He handed it to her.
“Try this on for size. You’re in shock and shock does funny things to people,” he said. Their fingers met. Heat flared inside her. Travis added, “People get real emotional and they feel out of sorts. You probably will, too.”
“Thanks,” Madison whispered, her whole hand tingling. Travis had a working man’s hands. They were large, powerful and she saw so many new and old scars across them. When he’d handed her the protein bar, she’d noticed the thick calluses on his palm. Inwardly, her breasts tightened and she felt heat plunge into her womb. The man could melt her with his thoughtful green gaze.
“Take it easy eating it,” Travis warned her, pushing to his feet. He walked over and picked up his M-4 rifle, which was leaning against the wall. “I’m going to check things out and I’ll be back in about half an hour. You rest, okay?” The sunlight was making her blond hair gleam with gold, wheat and tawny highlights. How badly Travis wanted to slide his hand through her hair, feel the weight of it, smell it and allow the strands to glide through his fingers. Disgusted with himself, he left, making his way down the dark tunnel. He knew this area well and didn’t even bother turning on a penlight to show him the way.
What the hell was going on here? His mind spun with its own kind of shock. Okay, he’d been out here with his platoon for four months. There weren’t any opportunities to meet a woman at Camp Bravo, for damn sure. The women at the FOB were either Apache combat pilots or medevac pilots. Being on deployment was like turning into a monk. Until Madison dropped into his life. Hell.
Madison was sleeping when Travis returned. He entered the cave silently and saw her with her head on her arm, curled up in the fetal position against the wall. His heart twisted in his chest. He placed his weapon against the wall, took off his boonie and shed his gear. His gaze never left hers. That long, thick blond hair framed part of her face; her lashes rested against her pale cheeks. He grimaced and kicked himself for not thinking about giving her a sleeping bag. The IV was empty so he pulled on a pair of gloves and walked over to where she slept.
Feeling the pinch in her left arm, Madison dragged her eyes open. “Umm,” she managed. His fingers were on her arm, removing the IV.
“Sorry to wake you,” he said huskily. “IV’s done and I need to get your arm patched up.”
He tried to ensure his hands were tender. She closed her eyes, as if simply absorbing him. “I must have dozed off,” she said, her voice sounding wispy.
Travis dropped the IV at his side and pulled out a large Band-Aid, which he placed on the inside of her arm. “You’ll sleep a lot,” he told her. “Best way to get rid of shock is to sleep.” He watched her eyes open and God help him, he wanted to drown in that dark blue gaze. Her lips were soft, parted, and it would be so easy to brush that full lower one with his thumb. Travis thought reconnoitering for half an hour to make sure the Taliban had followed the horses would snap him back into his focus. But it hadn’t.
“I’m thirsty,” Madison whispered, watching him get up. “Is there more water?”
She noticed the frown on his face, the look in his green eyes. She swore she could feel him wanting her, man to woman. It must be the shock. Pushing up into a sitting position, she dragged the mass of hair across her shoulders. She felt so dirty, the grit rubbing inside her clothing, making her feel absolutely miserable.
Travis pulled another bottle from his ruck, opened it and handed it to her.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
Travis busied himself, pulling out his sleeping bag and unrolling it. He shook it out and opened it up so she’d have something to sit on besides dirt. Silently, Travis gave Madison credit. She wasn’t complaining. There was determination in her face. The woman had backbone. Out here, that counted.
She’d finished off the bottle of water—now he needed to get some food into her. Grabbing the empty bottle and some purification tablets, he walked over to the dripping water in the rear of the cave. There was a small pool of icy water, snowmelt coming off the mountain above them. He dropped the tablets into the empty bottle and filled it with water.
Madison sat on the soft, thin sleeping bag, grateful to be off the dirt. She watched, curious about everything Travis did. He seemed far away or preoccupied. When he sat down, crossing his legs and hauling his MRE into his lap and giving her hers, she screwed up the courage to ask him a question.
“Why did you let our horses go? I thought they were our way to escape.”
Travis opened the spaghetti. “We’re twenty-two miles from Camp Bravo, the nearest American forward operating base. There are several Taliban groups searching for us right now. I slapped the horses and made them leave because I was hoping the Taliban would follow their tracks. They’d lead them away from where we’re hiding. I’ve checked twice since we got here, and that’s what they did. They’re following those two horses to God knows where—and I don’t care where, so long as it’s far away from us.”
Madison felt like an idiot. “Oh,” she whispered. Lifting her head, she met his warm green gaze. “I was really pissed.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed her brow, feeling the grit beneath her fingers. “I seem to be saying that a lot with you.”
“You’re in an alien environment. I don’t expect you to know what’s going down. Just trust me, though, Madison, to get you home safely. All right?” Travis pinned her with a hard look. Her expression grew apologetic and he felt bad. Being out as a sniper for weeks on end, he wasn’t used to diplomacy. He was usually alone in a dangerous place with only his wits, his knowledge and hunting skills to keep him alive. “Don’t mind me,” he said. “I’m a little more tired than usual.” It was as close to an apology as she was going to get.
“I’ve been a real pain in the ass.”
She had a nice butt, no doubt about it, but Travis couldn’t go there and say anything. Right now, Madison was embarrassed and trying to find a way to make up for her anger about the horses. She’d stopped eating and Travis needed her to get her energy back as soon as possible. “My master chief said your father owned a horse farm in College Station?” Maybe getting her mind off her mistakes and on to something positive would help her rally.
“Yes, my father was on the Olympic cross-country team a few decades ago. He’d always wanted to bring Trakehners to the U.S., and he and my mom made it happen.”
“I don’t know much about the breed,” he said. “Quarter horses I know.”
“Texas is quarter horse central,” Madison agreed. “Trakehners are a European breed, very tall, beautiful and intelligent. They’re often bred to Arabians, Thoroughbreds and other warm-bloods to improve them.”
“And that’s why you were with that American delegation?”
Nodding, she began to eat once again. “Yes. My father was invited to go along but he broke his ankle and he asked me to go instead.” Chewing on her lower lip, she scowled. “I’m sure he’s sorry about it now.” Madison felt terrible for disappointing her father. They had put such high hopes on this journey to Afghanistan.
“I’m sure he’s relieved you’re safe,” Travis murmured, no doubt seeing the pain in her eyes.
Madison knew her father would be dismayed. Wanting to cry, feeling horribly vulnerable, she choked it all back down inside herself. Travis had done enough for her. He was charged with her safety. He didn’t need a crybaby