“We’ve found a secure home we can hide in for now.”
Rose looked up at Welsh and nodded. She and Lacey had curled up as best they could in the ambulance to get a bit of rest, but for Rose it turned into a glazed-over stare. Her body ached, and now, with her adrenaline gone, her injuries throbbed. She’d slipped a few anti-inflammatories from the medical supplies in the ambulance, but they weren’t nearly enough to knock out everything. She didn’t want to risk not having supplies for the wounded men. Heim would have to remain medicated to deal with the pain. As it was, she worried they’d have to rebreak his bones to set them correctly if they didn’t get back to a proper facility.
“Are we safe here?” she asked.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Welsh answered, holding out his hand. “We’re going to keep a lookout for you guys and give you as much privacy as we can. Three SEALs will be on guard duty at any time.”
She nodded and took his hand. It was warm and callused as it curled around hers, the sheer size of it making her feel small. In her profession, her hands meant everything—life or death, help or hinder—and she imagined his were the same. The two of them were so different, yet they relied on the power of the same extremities. She must have been tired, thinking of such trivial things, but as Welsh led her into a partially destroyed building, she kept going back to his hand.
He’d killed tonight.
The thought should have made her sick, maybe even look at him differently, but she was too grateful for all he’d done. Welsh was a hero. He’d single-handedly saved everyone and never gave up. She admired him even more. This was the same man who had come to her when she was crying and gave her someone to talk to. He had found her when the battle waged; he may have never been separated with his team if he hadn’t. Lacey followed after them, not speaking, and Rose worried about her EMT seeing things she hadn’t discussed yet.
Welsh took them past a crumpled wall with haphazard paintings ripped to shreds still clinging to the walls. Dust and caked dirt littered the floor. Whereever they were, it used to be someone’s home. The kitchen area was more intact, thought it remained to be seen if they could use anything in it. The rebels often cut electricity and water to locations before attacks. The tactic obliterated the country’s healthcare in areas where hospitals couldn’t sustain power to help anyone. It was part of the reason MSF had come out to assist. Back home, Rose worked at nationally ranked UC San Diego Health-Jacobs Medical Center, with state of the art technology to help her save lives. Here, she fought with generators, faulty electricity, and the bare minimum. But she felt good, like she truly made a difference.
Tonight showed her she might have been wrong.
Welsh led them into a small room with sparse furnishings. “Lacey, you can set up here. Glitz,” Welsh pointed over his shoulder at the slender, dark-haired man at the door, “will guard your door tonight. Call him if you need anything.”
“Get rest while you can,” Glitz told Lacey. She said nothing and laid on the bed, turning to the wall.
“Let her sleep,” Welsh told Rose. “Tomorrow will look brighter.”
“But—”
Welsh shook his head. “Trust me. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
Rose became silent and followed him next door to another threadbare room. Still, she was thankful for a bed to sleep on.
“I’ll be right at the door,” Welsh told her. “Heim, Cry Baby, and Snake are resting first. Big Boss is on the perimeter, watching.”
“You need to sleep. You’ve been fighting all night.”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” he answered. His crooked smile softened his words, but his eyes made a liar of him. He didn’t feel jovial, and she could see it.
“You almost died tonight,” she whispered.
“How long have you been a doctor?”
The change of subject put her at a loss, but she wasn’t going to let him go that easy. “Welsh, you need to let your body recuperate.”
“I need to keep my men safe. Heim is busted up and can’t go on mission. Glitz might have a concussion, and keeping him up for watch ensures he won’t go to sleep before it’s safe. Big Boss is one of the best snipers in the world, but I can’t leave all of it on his shoulders.”
“Just for a couple of hours. You don’t need the whole night. Please,” she begged. “Give me that thing you’re wearing on your neck. It connects you with the team, right? I can hear if something is coming and wake you up.”
“Rose—”
“Thomas.”
He blinked at her and smiled, a warm, genuine smile. “Is this what I’m going to have to put up with during our relationship?”
Rose swallowed. “What relationship?” When she’d tried to entice him to her bed, he’d made her feel like a complete idiot.
Welsh came closer, already disconnecting the mic around his neck. He bent forward, his warm breath dancing over her lips and, even in the desperate situation they were in, she felt her panties grow wet. The warm metal latched around her throat as he put it in place and pressed the receiver into her ear.
“You thought I hadn’t taken a raincheck on what you offered?” he asked.
He was too close, clouding her judgement. She just wanted him to rest, but the fear, worry, and stress of the night gobbled up his frank appeal, morphing willingly into desire, escape. She gripped his forearms, unsure of what to do but unable to pull away.
“You said no,” she forced out.
“No, I said ‘not now.’ I like to take my time, Rose. Hours of touching you. Minutes between breaths as time slows. So many things I wanted to do, but it wasn’t the right opportunity, and I wanted you to know me.”
Her brain short-circuited. The words made sense, but they only conjured pictures of unbelievable passion.
“I wanted you to be sure,” he continued.
“I didn’t think I wasn’t,” she returned.
“Situations inflame emotions. Like now. I know how it is, better than you. I’m going to sleep, just like you told me to. But trust me, Rose, I plan on making you mine.”
Welsh pulled her to the bed, where she sat at the head, bracing her back against the wall. Then he laid down, tucking his head on her lap and his rifle across his body.
“If you hear anything, press the bottom button and tell them you’re waking me up. They’ll know to give you time to transfer the radio,” he told her.
She nodded and may have even given him a response. But as he laid head just inches away from her sex, she was more focused on the need pooling through her veins and his proximity. But as he relaxed into sleep, his body loosening by degrees, her desire dulled to a slow burn as she studied his features. He was a warrior, his war paint smeared and dirty but still apparent on his face. She traced down his nose and over his strong jaw, her heart skipping a beat when he turned on his side and nuzzled into her hand.
Welsh was dangerous, in more ways than one.