Sunlight shone in Tom’s eyes, waking him. He shifted his arm under a strange weight and realized it was Annie’s head. He ached from head to foot, as if he’d been worked over with a baseball bat. He really was going soft in his old age. Sleeping on a floor had never left him feeling quite this lousy before. For the first time in his career, doubt coiled in his gut. Was he going to be able to get his team and Annie out of this one alive?

He suppressed the thought violently. Thinking like that would certainly get them killed. There was no room for hesitation in his world, no mercy for those who looked back over their shoulders. They would make it out…somehow.

But meanwhile he felt like death warmed over.

He must’ve groaned because Annie popped up on her elbow beside him. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m just a little sore this morning.”

“I know the perfect cure for that.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She started to sit up but stopped partway. “Is it safe to sit up now?”

“The shooting stopped a couple hours ago. All the toy soldiers have gone to bed. They won’t come out again until tonight.”

“Tonight? You mean we have to go through that hell again?”

“’Fraid so.”

Her look of dismay was so cute, he nearly dragged her down on top of him to kiss it away. “Why don’t you tell me about this surefire cure of yours for all these aches and pains of mine? You don’t happen to have a bottle of whiskey stowed around here somewhere, do you?”

“No such luck. I had this in mind.” Her hands settled on him, and she began kneading the muscles of his shoulder and neck.

His whole left side went warm and relaxed under her touch, and his eyes drifted closed. He pushed away the guilt of being safe and comfortable while his men were out there dodging bullets. “I’ve died and gone to Heaven. You could do this to every inch of me and I wouldn’t complain.”

Her hands paused for a moment, but she didn’t answer.

He opened one eye to peer at her. There it was. That rosy shade her cheeks got when she was embarrassed. She looked down, concentrating on massaging his palm where it protruded from the cast. Who’d have guessed a hand was such an erogenous zone? But as her fingertips slid between the bases of his fingers and drifted across his palm, the tingly friction definitely influenced other parts of his anatomy.

“How can you be so sure there’s going to be more shooting tonight?” she asked.

“Because the war has started. After you fell asleep, there were bright flashes from the direction of the coast highway. The rebels undoubtedly shelled it last night, which means the city’s surrounded and the government’s cornered. The army’s going to have to engage the rebels now. There’s nowhere else to run.”

Her hands stilled on his ribs, which was just as well. He’d die before he let on how ticklish he was.

“Then there’s nowhere else for us to run, either.”

He shrugged, feigning a nonchalance he didn’t quite feel. “I’ve been in tighter fixes. St. George has a large civilian population for us to hide in. Besides, the rebels need the people’s support. They’re not going to start killing women and children anytime soon.”

“So where does that leave you?”

That was a damn good question, and he didn’t much like the possible answers. He opened one eye to peer up at her lazily as she started massaging his other arm. “Lying low.”

She didn’t respond to that. He tried to relax under her soothing touch; he had to get control of his jitters. The massage reminded him of having a cat perched on him, kneading him with its paws. The only things missing were claws. Annie’s were sheathed for now. At least, they were going to be until he asked her what he was about to.

“Annie, I need you to do me a favor.”

“Name it.”

“I want you to go out and do some reconnoitering.”

Her hands froze. “Me? I thought that’s what your guys were supposed to do.”

“They can’t get into the American Embassy unnoticed.”

“Neither can I. I’m probably a fugitive by now.”

“We’ll disguise you.”

“I dunno…”

Normally he wouldn’t remotely consider sending out one of his men who was in a mental state like hers. But this wasn’t a normal situation. Everything about this mission was messed up.

“Trust me. It’ll be all right,” he said soothingly.

“Why do you need me to go to the embassy?”

“To find out if we can count on the American government to help us get out of here. Plus, I need to send my complete mission report to the States.”

“You can’t use any of your fancy gizmos to transmit it stateside?”

“The material in it is too sensitive to risk having it intercepted.”

“I don’t think I can do it undetected….”

“Sure you can. I’ll show you how. Do you have a dress or something that a local woman might wear?”

“Yes.”

“Go put it on. And if you’ve got a push-up bra, put it on, too. Maybe that red lace number from yesterday.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“Just do it,” he muttered. “I’ll explain when you get back. Oh, and bring me your passport.” He turned to dig in his rucksack. “While you’re at it, put on a little too much makeup!” he called over his shoulder.

He found what he was looking for and stretched out on the sofa to wait till Annie returned. He could still feel her hands sliding over him in that knowing way. It was almost spooky having a woman be so comfortable with his body. He never stuck around long enough in relationships for that kind of familiarity to develop.

It was seductive for damn sure. He could sink into that easy comfort with nary a struggle, just like quicksand. Annie would trap him the same way—all smooth and nonthreatening on the surface, but deadly dangerous to stumble into and impossible to get out of.

He blinked when he realized she was standing beside the couch, giving him a quizzical look. He jumped up, startled, and winced when ice picks of pain stabbed his legs.

“Okay, Sherlock, now what?” she asked.

A floral-print dress made of a clingy fabric swirled around her figure, caressing her curves outrageously. Perfect. He grinned. “Elementary, my dear Watson. Unbutton your dress.”

“Now look here--”

He cut her off briskly. “We need to work on this trust thing, Annie. I’m not going to molest you.” He held out his hand. “Give me your passport.”

“You can forget me undressing for you.”

He raised a single eyebrow and gave her his most intimidating glare. “I said there won’t be any hanky-panky. Now hand over your passport and get going on those buttons.”

She gave him the document, eyeing him suspiciously. While he folded two thin sheets of paper and slipped them between the pages of her passport, she reached for the top button in the row that traveled the length of her dress. He tore his gaze away from the erotic sight of her fumbling at the tiny buttons, the cloth falling away tantalizingly beneath her fingers.

He picked up a self-adhesive gauze bandage and spoke as casually as he could around the thickness in his throat. “My report’s inside your passport. There are two copies of it. One is for Ambassador Kettering, here in Gavarone. The other one needs to go by diplomatic pouch or secure fax to the address on the top of the page. It’s Eyes Only stuff so don’t hand it over to any old clerk, okay?”

“Handling classified documents is part of my job, Tom. I know what to do.” Annie’s fingers fell away from her front, and the dress gaped open.

Hot blood surged in his groin, and his pants suddenly felt tight. The thin cotton fabric of her dress clung to every nuance of her body, and a vertical slash of tanned stomach promised unholy delights. His zipper grated irritatingly against his throbbing flesh. Dammit. This was business. “Lift your arms, please.”

Surely his voice didn’t sound as hoarse to her as it did to him. He cleared his throat.

Annie complied in silence.

He took a step forward. It brought him close enough to smell the fragrance of a frilly soap clinging to her skin. “I’m going to tape your passport to you, now.”

Even forewarned, she jumped when his palms contacted her ribs. Ignoring her widened pupils and her sharp little intake of breath, he wound the bandage around her, securing the passport just below her bra.

“If the police arrest you and find this, stick to your cover. You’re an American whose husband was hurt in a climbing accident. You’re going to the embassy to arrange safe passage out of Gavarone. You’re worried about the rebels and have hidden your passport so it won’t get stolen.”

“What if they look inside it and find your report?”

“It’s encoded. Tell them it’s secret directions from a treasure map, and your husband’s paranoid that someone will get to the loot before he can go back for it. That’s a weird enough story they ought to buy it.”

Annie smiled, momentarily relaxing beneath his hands. Man, she felt good. He’d like to keep right on touching her, all over her body. He dragged his unwilling hands away from her.

While Annie buttoned up her dress, he pulled his burned phone out of his pocket. His hands weren’t quite steady when he reached for her neckline.

She started to recoil, then stilled herself. “Now what?”

“I want you to take this.” He tucked the phone into her cleavage. The backs of his fingers brushed the swelling fullness of her breast. It was as smooth and tempting as he’d imagined it would be. His palms itched to cup her breasts in their entirety.

Discipline, dude. Discipline!

Yeah, right.

“So that’s why you wanted me to wear a push-up bra!” She sounded inordinately pleased with her powers of deductive reasoning.

He forced his mind to the business at hand. “Exactly. When you come back here, I’ll be watching for you out the window. If you’re followed, I’ll call you.”

“With what phone?” she asked. “I have yours.”

“I’ll use your cell phone.” He continued, “The phone will ring twice then hang up. If that happens, keep walking. Lose the tail and then come back to this street and try again. I’ll keep calling you until you’re clean. Got it?”

She looked alarmed, but her voice was reasonably calm. “Got it.”

“If you get into trouble, hit the call back button. I’ll call my team, and they’ll track the burner phone. Sit tight wherever you are, and they’ll find you. It has a homing feature in it.”

“What will you do if you get into trouble? You need your phone more than I do.” She reached into her bra for the device.

He put his hand over hers, trapping it against her breast. “You keep it. I insist. I can take care of myself.”

“But…”

“I know what’s best, remember?”

She scowled at him, but thankfully didn’t argue.

“Now for the pièce de résistance.” He pulled a bushy black wig out from behind him.

Annie took one look at it and burst out laughing. “Are you kidding? I’d look like a hooker in that thing. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb!”

“Put it on and then go into the bathroom and brush it out. Maybe pull it back into a ponytail or put it up. Do some girl stuff to it.”

“Not even girl stuff’s gonna help that rug. Where did you get it?”

“Mexico. And it’s a perfectly fine wig. It’s saved my butt more than once, I’ll have you know.”

“Will you try it on for me after I get back?” she teased.

He scowled and didn’t deign to answer.

Grinning, Annie took it and disappeared into the bathroom.

Tom sagged onto the couch. That woman was going to kill him if he had to touch her like that again. He was a disciplined guy, but he wasn’t made of steel. Hell, a ninety-year-old priest would contemplate sin with a woman like that standing half-dressed in front of him.

Now, if she could just get to the embassy and back in one piece. The thought was ice water on his libido. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the sofa. He could think of a hundred things that might go wrong, and every one of them had a decent chance of happening today. But he had no choice. He wasn’t strong enough yet to do it himself, and time was of the essence. He had to get her out of Gavarone. Still, he hated to put her at risk like this.

The flip side of the argument was that Annie was a military officer. She did have rudimentary training for this sort of work. When it came right down to it, she had signed up to be put in harm’s way. The job needed doing, and she was in line to do it.

He chewed the inside of his cheek.

He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

Annie stepped out of the bathroom. How she’d managed to create a nice hairdo with his wig he’d never know, but she looked great.

He surveyed her critically. “You’ve got the hooker look almost right. Come here, and I’ll make the last little adjustment.”

She stepped close, looking up at him curiously.

Quickly, before he could think better of it, he took her face in both of his hands and kissed her. She tasted of wicked temptation and sinful delight. He shouldn’t be doing this. It was wrong. It was unprofessional. It was completely impossible for him to stop. He opened his mouth a little, asking her to surrender to the kiss.

She melted into him, pressing that body of hers against his, every luscious inch welcoming him. He groaned and slipped his arms around her, molding her more closely to him. Her hands plunged into his hair, pulling his head closer. She tasted him as greedily as he tasted her, their tongues clashing and wrestling.

The couch beckoned him to pull her down with him and take all of her. Hell, the floor would do right now. A rage to have her flooded him, driving him mindlessly onward.

Business, dammit! He released her and staggered back a step. “Sorry about that. You looked too perfect.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “So you kissed me?”

“You needed messing up. That seemed the most efficient way to do it.”

She looked confused as all get-out, but at least he’d managed to distract her.

Clearing her throat nervously she mumbled, “I’m all for efficiency. So how do I look now?”

She looked like a fallen angel dying to sin with him. “Uhh, fine. You look fine. And you don’t look like a hooker, by the way.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I think.”

“It was. Sort of.”

She stuck her tongue out at him as he escorted her to the door.

“Stay calm and keep your wits about you. Don’t take any chances. If you can’t make it into the embassy undetected, don’t push it. We’ll find some other way.” He unlatched the door and opened it for her. “And remember not to let your gaze dart around. Don’t walk too fast or too slow. Go with the flow of traffic. Keep your shoulders back and down. And don’t clench your fists or show tension….”

“Yes, mother. I’ll be careful.” She was grinning at him.

He returned her grin ruefully. “Okay, I’ll shut up. You be safe out there.”

“I will. But thanks for worrying about me.”

“You’re welcome.”

He shut the door and turned to look at the empty apartment. He sighed. He purely hated waiting. Especially when he’d sent one of his people into danger and was helpless to protect them.

* * *

Annie peered out a side entrance of the American Embassy. The street looked harmless enough. So why couldn’t she force her feet to carry her back outside? Only after achieving the safety of her embassy had she realized how fear had been her constant shadow these past few days. She was loath to leave the embrace of American soil and venture once more into the dangers of St. George. She’d strolled right in without a hitch. One of the Marine guards had recognized her and waved her through—and the guy had even had the good sense to pretend he didn’t know her.

But now it was time to go back into the breach. The quick intel briefing she’d gotten from her boss had done nothing to calm her fears. The situation was fully as grim as Tom’s men were reporting.

Tom was waiting for her. He needed her. She had to do this. A bead of sweat formed and rolled slowly between her shoulder blades, gathering speed and rushing down her back. Cripes. She was supposed to be a badass military officer, a pilot with nerves of steel. Maybe in a chopper she was that way. But down here on the ground, out among Gavronese soldiers and spies…not so much. Dammit. She took a deep breath and crossed the threshold into peril.

Gavarone’s muggy heat slammed into her. Although she slipped into the pedestrian traffic, Annie got an instant feeling that someone was following her.

It was probably just paranoia. But she felt as if eyeballs were boring into her back. She repeated Tom’s instructions over and over and prayed they would be enough. As she drew further and further from the embassy and safety, a terrible certainty set in that she was going to be caught.

She could do this. Tom believed in her.

She didn’t need some man to validate her, dammit! She could do this because she was a highly trained, intelligent woman, a military officer and not about to let down her comrades in arms. But jeez, she wished her knees would quit knocking together.

Who was she trying to kid? She had no business being out here. Her posting was a desk job mostly, pushing papers, and occasionally flying VIPs to their golf games. She’d only flown the mission to get Tom because the guy scheduled to fly it had gotten food poisoning at the last minute. Rebels and guns and arrests weren’t part of the deal.

And yet, Tom and his men were depending on her.

She was going to let them down.

As a kid she’d imagined how exciting it would be to get involved in some super secret espionage operation for her country. But this was too real. Too frightening. She’d never realized what it would be like to work without a safety net. Tom was prepared to operate in this kind of environment, but she wasn’t.

She’d gotten so caught up in her fantasy of being part of a wildly cool squad like Tom’s that she’d waded in way over her head. And here she was, alone and completely vulnerable, her no-kidding life on the line. She’d made a dreadful, terrible mistake.

No matter what advice Tom had given her, Annie’s hands began to shake uncontrollably. Her legs felt like Jell-O, and her insides ran like water. Despite herself, her stride lengthened and her pace quickened. After a few blocks she realized she was practically running. She slowed her pace, her breath heaving. But then the insidious panic that spurred her to walker faster and faster until she thought she was going to explode.

Light-headed with terror, she slowed herself again.

And again.

It was an interminable nightmare, but she made her way across town without bolting completely. If someone was following her, they were letting her go to see where she led them. At least Tom would know what to do. She reassured herself by telling herself over and over that he would take care of whatever mess she’d gotten herself into. He was her safe port in this wild ocean of unseen dangers.

As she finally neared the street their apartment building was on, she forced herself to stop at a street market. While she picked out some fresh sea bass—the locals called it corvina—for supper, she surreptitiously looked for her tail.

Over there. That man in the gray pants and white shirt. Had she seen him when she left the embassy? Or what about that man in the leather jacket? Surely it was too warm a day for a coat like that. Or maybe that elderly woman browsing at the next fruit stand. She looked as if she was moving too nimbly for her age. Oh, God. Now what to do?

Should she try to lose her invisible follower now or go straight back home the way Tom had told her to? As much as she craved his protection, she dared not endanger Tom. He wasn’t healthy enough to take on anything really deadly that she might lead back to him. Now what?

Tom’s voice echoed in her head. We need to work on this trust thing. Trust. Tom would know what to do. He’d said to go straight back to the apartment. Well then, that’s what she’d do.

Her back tingled with imaginary knives burying themselves in her spine. Her hands still shook, but there was nothing to do about that except clench her purse tightly and hope no one noticed her white knuckles.

She hummed a song in her head and forced herself to walk to its rhythm. Every instinct begged her to run screaming for cover. But she knew without a shadow of a doubt that giving in to the impulse would get her and Tom killed. Strolling home was an exercise in the self-discipline of sheer terror.

How in the world did Tom do stuff like this every day? She would have a nervous breakdown if she had to live like this. Of course, that’s why she wasn’t in the Special Forces and Tom was. He could have this job.

So then, why in the world was she playing at it?

The answer stopped her cold in the middle of the street. Because of Tom. She was out here risking her neck for him. She wanted to impress him. It was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard of, but here she was, putting her life on the line. For a man. Incredulity rooted her in place.

A horn honked right behind her, and Annie all but jumped out of her skin. She lurched into motion and moved out of the middle of the street.

What the hell did it mean? Was she really that far gone in her attraction to him? She was so effing pathetic! Toughen up, girlfriend.

As she caught sight of the apartment building where Tom waited, her breathing quickened even more. He should have her in sight by now. The feel of his intense blue gaze on her overwhelmed every other sensation. She was pulled toward it, drawn to Tom by a force too deep, too fundamental to ignore.

Tom’s phone felt heavy and hot in her bra, burning against her skin. It reminded her of his fingers brushing her flesh as he deposited the device there.

The phone was silent as she walked down the street. A film of sweat covered her face. As casually as she could, she wiped it away. There wasn’t even a hint of vibration from the phone.

What if something had happened to Tom? What if the Gavronese Army had found him? Then he wouldn’t be able to signal her if she was being followed. The sensation of being watched intensified.

She was definitely being followed.

Come on, Tom. Call me. Let me know you’re up there watching and you see the tail.

Nothing.

Now what?

Did she proceed as if everything was okay, or did she assume something had happened to Tom and keep on going? What if the Gavronese Army was waiting for her in the apartment when she got there? If only she’d had more training in how to deal with situations like this.

The door to their apartment building was beside her. She stared at its yawning blackness, torn in two by doubt and paralyzing indecision.

Tom had said to trust him. If he wasn’t good enough to evade capture while hidden away in an obscure apartment, then he surely wasn’t good enough to get her out of Gavarone alive. Better that she get arrested now while the United States still had a presence in the country.

She veered into the doorway and hurried up the three flights of steps to their apartment. Annie reached their door out of breath and knocked quietly.

A gravelly voice answered from inside in Spanish.

Annie’s stomach did a spectacular flip. Ohgodohgodohgod. They’d gotten Tom. And she was next. Her pulse exploded, and she panted in raw fear. She fumbled for the phone’s panic button as she spun around to flee.

The door opened. An arm snaked out and grabbed her upper arm. She started to scream as the arm yanked her inside, but a hand slapped over her mouth, cramming the scream back between her teeth.

The door shut behind her, and she couldn’t see a thing in the darkness. Someone had blacked out all the windows. A powerful body pinned her facing the wall beside the door, and she struggled in animalistic terror.

“I’m an American citizen. I demand to speak to my embassy,” she managed to force out past the hand over her mouth.

She was dragged backward and strong arms wrapped around her in a fierce bear hug.

“Annie, it’s me, Tom. You’re safe. I’ve got you now.”

Thank God.

All the strength went out of her in a rush, and she sagged against him. His hand eased away from her mouth.

* * *

Tom hung on tight to Annie and rocked her close while she cried out her fear and relief. He’d always envied women their ability to let go of their emotions so freely. He was none too steady himself at the moment. He’d stood at that window waiting to see her come around the corner for what seemed like a year.

Thank God she was all right. She turned in his arms and buried her nose against his chest. Her arms came up around him, holding on fiercely. “Why didn’t you call me?” Her muffled voice sounded waterlogged.

“Because you weren’t followed.”

“Are you sure? I could swear I was.”

“I’m positive. You were just scared. Same thing happens to me all the time. You did fine.”

Her shaking subsided a bit, and she’d recovered enough to look up at him skeptically. “What do you mean, it happens to you all the time? You have nerves of stainless steel. I bet you don’t remember what fear is.”

He grunted. “Huh. I was afraid—knees-knocking-and-nervous-sweats afraid—the whole time you were gone.”

She ducked her head against his chest once more.

He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled the fresh scent of it. His good hand roamed up and down her back as he reassured himself she was unhurt. The elegant indentation of her spine drew his fingertips, and he caressed the line of her back down to the first hint of her buttocks.

She drew a short breath and molded herself even closer to him, her body giving way under the gentle pressure of his hand. Her hips flowed into his, their bodies intimately and perfectly aligned to each other. The softness of her belly complemented the hardness of his, and her breasts burned against his chest like fire.

How could he have sent her out there by herself? She was too precious to have put at risk.

Too precious?

Oh, Lord. What had he gone and done? The sense of impending doom that had been hanging over him ever since he woke up in the hospital moved a giant step closer.

He backed her against the wall so he could continue his explorations. His fingers trailed ran down her slender arm and raised fine goose bumps under his palm. His fingers twined with hers, and he lifted one of her hands over her head. Their fingers still clasped, he leaned into her, savoring the length of her body against his. He looked down at her, and she stared back at him wordlessly.

Naked desire warmed the dazed expression in her eyes.

His gaze slid lower to the pulse leaping in her throat, and lower still to the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Each breath she drew pressed her breasts against him in sensual invitation. He ached to bury his face in the cleft of her bosom, to smell her and taste her, to lose himself in her.

Bracing his cast against the wall above her shoulder, his other hand he reached down to stroke from her collarbone toward the valley between her breasts. His fingers encountered hard plastic, almost hot to the touch. He grasped his cell phone and drew it slowly from its enviable nest.

Annie’s breath wobbled, catching in a sexual way.

He pocketed the phone and let his hungry fingers return to the exposed flesh of her neck. Delicate tendons and a racing pulse danced beneath her satin skin.

She shifted, and he captured her free hand with his before she could move away. He pinned her hand overhead once more, sandwiching between his body and the wall. He leaned down, touching the base of her neck with his lips. Her pulse startled and leaped like a deer. His mouth traveled upward, pausing to sample the feminine delicacy just below her ear.

She inhaled sharply, and her head rolled back, stopped only by the wall. He pulled away momentarily to look at her radiant beauty. It lit the gloom around them, a lighthouse in the storm-tossed darkness of his world.

Her lips parted, sweet and inviting. She didn’t have to ask him twice. He lowered his head to fit mouth against hers. God, she tasted amazing. Like life.

* * *

Annie groaned as Tom finally got around to kissing her. Stretched on a rack of agonizing anticipation, the torture of wanting him was so great she could hardly stand it. Helpless to move with one hand trapped high over her head, she could only use her body to communicate her desire. She writhed against him, glorying in the hardness of his frame and in the way her body yielded to his.

She ached to hold him within her, to cradle his strength against her, to be safe within his embrace, to shield him with her love. All of this she poured into her kiss and into the sensual undulations of her body against his.

His response was immediate and overwhelming. His cast slipped carefully behind her shoulders and his other arm went around her waist. He swept her up against him while they pirouetted away from the wall in a dizzying embrace.

She clung to him, her arms around his neck, supported by his broad shoulders. Their spinning kiss carried them across the room to the sofa. He guided her to the cushions, following her down, covering her in a blanket of potent male, all muscle and power.

His thigh wedged between hers, and she gave way before the pressure. An elbow on either side of her head caged her beneath him while he kissed her into mindless oblivion. She pulled his head closer, deepening their kiss until she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

He groaned, and she relished the sound, taking it into her and holding it in her heart. In return, she wordlessly offered up her remorse and self-recrimination for almost killing this wonderful man. She poured it all into kissing him, into treasuring and cherishing him. If only she could make it up to him somehow.

Tom shifted his weight to one side and dragged her with him as he rolled off the couch and onto the floor. They landed with a solid thump that made her squeak. Annie sprawled across him in the most delicious fashion, body to body in a nakedly suggestive pose.

And then her hand contacted the cast on his left arm. Her ardor cooled abruptly as shame filled her. She rolled off him instantly, appalled by the thoughtlessness of her lust. “Oh, no, Tom. Did I hurt you? Are you all right?”

“I don’t care if you hurt me. Just don’t stop kissing me.”

“I’ll kill myself if I hurt you again.”

“What do you mean ‘again’?”

She froze. Did she dare confess all to him? And take a chance on ruining what they had together by admitting that she’d decided to sacrifice his life to save her own and had caused him all these injuries? Could she bear to see rage and disgust in his eyes when he looked at her?

“Hey. Why so grim? I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Really.”

“You’re too kind,” she protested.

A faint frown creased his brow, but he said nothing.

Suddenly nervous, she wiped her palms surreptitiously on her dress. “You’ve never told me the details of your accident. Do you know what happened?”

“Yeah. We were egressing from the jungle and had a rebel squad on our heels. The rest of my guys made it into our pickup helicopter, but the rebels got there before I could get pulled out. The rebels started shooting, and the helicopter pilot decided to get out of there. I ended up getting dragged through the jungle at the end of a steel cable.”

She took a convulsive swallow before she could speak. “You must be angry at that pilot.”

Tom stared up at the ceiling as though replaying the incident in his mind’s eye. “Why do you say that?” he asked absently.

“Well, by rights you should have died. It’s a miracle you survived, you know.”

He gaze swiveled to her. “Yeah, I know.” He was silent for a moment. “The only thing that ticks me off is that the pilot didn’t drop me.”

Annie blinked. “Drop you?”

“Yeah. If we’d had an experienced Special Forces guy in the cockpit, he’d have cut the cable and left me behind.”

“Left you behind? But you said there were rebels on top of your position.”

“There were. But they were mostly drug dealers and thugs. City slickers. They didn’t know what they were doing out in the bush. I could’ve run circles around them in that jungle.”

“Wouldn’t you have been hurt if the cable got cut and you fell?”

“The jungle floor is covered with several feet of dead leaves and plant matter. It’s pretty soft. I was only twenty or so feet up when the shooting started. I’d have been fine from that height.”

Sick guilt roared through Annie like hot lava. She wouldn’t have had to hurt him. She could’ve spared him all those weeks of suffering. All she would have had to do was cut him loose. She had no doubt he could’ve out-smarted and evaded the rebels. She was so stupid! Why hadn’t she thought of that?

Because she’d been more worried about getting out alive. About saving her own worthless hide.

“Are you all right, Annie? You look a little pale.” His hand stroked down her back in concern.

“Uh, yeah. I’m okay.”

“Look. I’m sorry if I scared you when you got back here.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your step is light like a woman’s, and I heard your panic.”

“What does panic sound like?”

“Your breathing tripled in about one second flat, and your movements became clumsy. I heard you fumbling for something.”

“The panic button on your phone.”

“Ahh.” His hand paused in the small of her back. “I’m sorry I had to send you out there. And I shouldn’t have taken advantage of your fear by kissing you, either.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me. If anything, I’m the one who’s taken advantage of you.”

“Mmm, whatever.”

He smiled and tightened his arm around her once more. Then he rolled until she lay on her back while he loomed over her. “Now where were we before we were interrupted by your excessive concern for my fragility?”