"Two a.m."

"Lindy, is that you?"

"Do you need something for the pain?"

He shook his head. "No." Her fingers curled around his own and he held on to her, savoring her touch. He slept again.

Lindy sat in a chair at her husband’s side. She’d tried to sleep countless times, but the rest her body craved continued to elude her. Just as she’d start to drift off, the horror of those two days of not knowing if Rush was dead or alive returned and snapped her awake. She’d come so close to losing him. Seven men had died. Honorable men. And Rush had come a hairsbreadth from making the count eight. The men who had died were husbands, fathers, lovers – and now they were gone.

Standing, she walked over to the window. Palm trees swayed in the late afternoon breeze. The sun shone and the ocean lapped relentlessly against the white, sandy beach. The flawless beauty of the scene should have soothed her troubled spirit, but it didn’t. Instead she felt a cold hard feeling settle in her lungs. It spread out, making her breathing labored and causing her throat to ache. Those men had died, and for what? Lindy had no answers, and every time she closed her eyes the questions started to pound at her, demanding answers when she had none.

"Lindy?"

She took a minute to compose herself, pasted a smile on her face and turned around. "So Sleeping Ugly is finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"You don’t want to know."

Concern moved her to his bedside. "Should I get the nurse? She said if you needed something for pain, I could…"

"I’m doing okay." His brows folded into a tight frown as he looked up at her. "You’re still looking like death warmed over."

She forced a cheery laugh and decided to put her makeup on with a heavier hand before her next visit. "That’s a fine thing to say to me!"

"When was the last time you had a decent meal?"

She opened her mouth to tell him, but paused when she realized she didn’t know herself. "I’m fine, Rush. You’re the patient here, not me."

He looked for a minute as if he were going to argue with her, but he didn’t. "If you’re not hungry, I am."

"I’ll see what I can scrounge up."

She returned a few minutes later, carrying a tray. But it was soon apparent that Rush had no appetite and had used the excuse of hunger as a ploy to get her to sample something.

Three days passed. Rush grew stronger with each one, and Lindy grew paler and thinner. She still couldn’t sleep – not more than an hour at a stretch.

A week after Rush arrived in Hawaii, Lindy strolled into his hospital room to discover her husband sitting up for the first time. His left arm was in a cast and hung in a sling over his chest- The swelling in his face had gone down considerably, and he looked almost like his old handsome self once more. Lindy paused and smiled, perhaps her first genuine one since she’d arrived in this tropical paradise.

"You’re looking fit."

"Come here, wife," he said holding out his one good arm to her. "I’m tired of those skimpy pecks on the cheek you’ve been giving me. I’m starved for you."

Lindy walked across the room like a woman who’d been wandering in the desert and been offered a glass of water. Once Rush had his arm around her, his mouth claiming hers, she felt whole again. He smelled incredibly good and tasted of peppermint.

The fears and doubts that had been hounding her all week dissolved in the warmth of his hold. When he lifted his head and smiled, Lindy felt weak and breathless in his embrace.

"Lindy, dear God, I’ve nearly died, I’ve wanted to hold you so much."

Angry, selfish thoughts flooded her mind, and she clamped her mouth shut. He’d nearly died, yes, but it was from a terrible plane crash and explosion that didn’t have anything to do with her. But when Rush directed her mouth to his, she was engulfed in his kiss, lost and drowning. Nothing else mattered. As his lips closed over hers, demanding and hungry, he reclaimed everything that had once been his: her heart, her body, her soul. There was nothing left inside her to protest. He owned her so completely, so unquestionably, that she hadn’t the will to say or do anything. All she could do was submit.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, giving him her tongue when he sought it, taking his when it was offered. Their need for each other was urgent. Fierce. Savage, yet tender. Nothing else in the world made sense except this. Only the driving need Lindy felt to be a part of Rush.

Moisture appeared in the corners of her eyes and Rush sipped away her tears. He kissed her eyes, her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, and nuzzled tenderly at her neck while his fingers tunneled through her dark hair.

"Lindy," he breathed. "My love, my own sweet love." His long fingers brushed the wisps of bangs from her face and wiped away the last trace of tears, as though she was the most precious thing he had ever touched.

"I talked to the doctor this morning," he whispered. "I’m going to be released at the end of the week."

Lindy’s tender heart swelled with unrestrained joy.

"We have one night, love, just one night before I fly back to the Mitchell."

For one frenzied moment, Lindy was sure she’d heard him incorrectly. Going back? He couldn’t possibly be returning to the Persian Gulf after what had happened.

"No." She freed herself from his grip and took a step back. "You can’t go back!"

"Honey, I have to. It’s my job."

"But…"

"What did you expect me to do?"

Lindy wasn’t sure what she’d assumed would happen. Anything but having him return to the same nightmare.

"Honey, listen. We’ve only got six weeks of the cruise left. Hell, for all I know we could even be headed back sooner than that, depending on the amount of damage we sustained. Six weeks isn’t such a long time. I’ll be home before you know it."

Somehow Lindy managed to nod. They had precious time left, and the thought of spending these last days together arguing was intolerable. After all, there wasn’t much she could say. She’d thought – or at least hoped – he’d be coming home with her now. She needed him sleeping at her side to chase away the demons and dissolve the horror from her mind.

Rush may want to make love to her, Lindy realized, but he wanted to get back to his ship more. She’d noted that when he started talking about the Mitchell his eyes had seemed to spark with new life. He didn’t like lying around the hospital; she would have been surprised if he had. Rush longed to go back to his ship, back to his men. He wanted to leave her behind, safely tucked away in a Seattle apartment while he was gallivanting all over the world, risking his life. Risking her peace of mind. Risking their happiness.

"I hope that hotel room of yours has a double bed," Rush said, smiling up at her.

"It does," she assured him, averting her gaze to the scene outside the window.

Something was wrong with Lindy. Rush knew it, felt it every time she walked in the room. She looked a lit- tie better – at least he knew she was eating regularly. Some color had returned to her pale cheeks when they’d walked in the sunshine.

Rush tried to draw her out, tried to get her to tell him what was troubling her, but she held it all inside and he didn’t press her. He would be leaving the hospital early that afternoon and leaving Lindy first thing in the morning. She’d been through a great deal and so had he. If what was bothering her was important, she’d say something to him.

The petite blond nurse who had been assigned his room strolled in, holding a small white cup and a glass of water. She was young and pretty, the kind of woman who might have attracted his attention before he met Lindy. Now he only had eyes for his wife and barely gave the woman more than a second glance.

"Pill time," she announced cheerfully.

Rush grumbled and held out his hand. The blue-eyed nurse waited while he took the two capsules and swallowed down a glass of water.

"Where’s your wife this afternoon?"

"She’ll be by later," Rush explained. He was surprised Lindy wasn’t there all ready. Lindy was as keen as he was to get out of this sterile environment, but he was far more eager to get his wife into bed. One damn night was all they had. He wished to hell it could be more. It seemed their entire married life had been crammed into three all-too-short nights.

"I hear you’re leaving us."

He nodded. He didn’t like the antiseptic smell here, and he swore the food must taste better in prison. It had been torture to be this close to the ocean, to smell the clean tangy scent of it and be prohibited from doing anything more than gaze at the blue waters. He was anxious to get back to the Mitchell. He felt a lot like someone who had fallen off a horse and needed to climb right back on again. He’d been mentally shaken by the accident, his courage tested. He needed to set foot on the bridge, look down on that flight deck and know he was in control once more.

"I don’t know when I’ve seen a woman more in love with her husband. Or more worried," the pretty blond nurse went on to say. "When your wife first arrived, I thought we were going to have to admit her. I swear she was as pale as bleached flour. I suppose you know she wouldn’t leave your side. For three days, she didn’t move. The doctors tried repeatedly to assure her you were going to be all right, but she wouldn’t believe it. Not until you woke, and even then she refused to go."

Rush rested his head against the thin pillow and held in a sigh until his chest ached with the effort. He’d known that every time he woke Lindy had been with him, but he hadn’t realized she’d spent every minute at his side.

"I hope you appreciate that woman," the nurse continued.

"I do," Rush countered. Tonight he’d show Lindy just how much.

Lindy was determined that this one night with Rush would be as perfect as she could make it. She planned to blot out all her doubts and grab hold of what happiness she could before Rush returned to the Persian Gulf. She yearned to encapsulate these last hours together and hold them in her memory until he returned safely to her in December.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, once they were inside her hotel room.

"A little weak," Rush admitted reluctantly. "But I’m getting stronger every day."

She helped him into a chair. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest he wait a few more days before flying across the world and rejoining his ship, but she knew it would be useless. She knew Rush. She’d seen that hard look of determination he wore more than once. He wouldn’t listen to her.

"I thought we’d order dinner from room service," she said, standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor.

He nodded. "Good idea." He hesitated and gave her a look that was almost shy. "I have another good idea, too. Come to me, Lindy. I need you."

She couldn’t have refused him had her life depended on it. He stood, reached for her hand and walked her to the bed. He kissed her once, hard, his tongue delving into her mouth, stroking hers. His right hand was fumbling with the buttons of her blouse, but the left one was incapable of giving much assistance. With their mouths still linked, Lindy brushed his hand aside and helped him. When she was finished with her own, she freed his uniform shirt from his waistband and unbuttoned it for him.