Page 41 of Holding His Hostage
He did it again, his gaze fixed on the bites. “I almost didn’t get you out of there in time.”
“But you did.”
He shot her a harsh look before reaching for his pack. “Barely.” He took out bandages and first aid cream.
“Sloan, if it hadn’t been for you, I would have been dog food.”
He applied cream to the bandages and carefully placed them on the wounds. “My damn arm fell off.”
“So what?”
“Don’t patronize me, Jo.”
“Patronize you how? You saved me. You pulled me over the fence and saved me from that dog.”
“These wounds are deep. Another minute and who knows what that animal might have done?”
“But he didn’t—”
“Stop pretending it doesn’t matter that I fucked up, okay? Stop acting like you didn’t notice that it almost got you killed.” Finished with her bandages, he put her leg down and stood. “I was there. I know exactly what happened.”
She followed him out of the bathroom. “So, let me get this straight. In your mind, you nearly got me killed because you were injured fighting for our country and that somehow makes you a bad person who can’t be trusted with my care.”
He’d walked away from her and now stood gazing out the window, his body silhouetted against the pane, hands on his hips. “I thought I could make a difference working for HERO Force.”
She cocked her head, desperate to keep up with this change in conversation. She approached him. “Go on.”
“I thought it wouldn’t matter that I only had one arm. I had a good prosthetic. I could fire a gun. I could still fight the bad guys and come back begging for more.” He shook his head. “But it isn’t true.”
“A few dog bites, and you’re questioning your choice of career?”
“It’s not the first time. I was down in Mexico on a mission. Damn near got my friend and two innocent civilians killed for the same reason. I was lucky I didn’t hurt anyone else like I almost did today.”
His pain was palpable, and she longed to take it away, absolve him of this sin he clearly hadn’t committed. She reached out and tentatively laid her hand on his back. “I’ll bet you helped them.”
He turned around quickly, brushing off her hand in the process. “No, Jo. This story doesn’t have a happy ending. I’ve been struggling for a long time, hiding behind a joke and pretending I fit in with the other guys. Hell, I think I was struggling even before that. First I lost you, then I lost the SEALs. I didn’t think I could lose anything I loved again.”
In that moment, she needed to soothe his pain just as he’d soothed hers. She closed the distance between them, going up on tiptoe to take his mouth in a kiss that conveyed every bit of passion she was feeling in her heart. He hesitated, and she feared he’d pull back. Her arms snaked up his chest to hold him to her, her lips and tongue demanding he respond.
Damn it, I know you remember how good we could be together. Show me. Show me you remember.
This was what she wanted, she could see so clearly now. Gone were her fears of being hurt by him again. She was already hurting, and she would go on hurting. She might as well enjoy him while she could.
His good arm came around her waist, holding her there, and his prosthetic did the same on the other side. She was hyperaware he couldn’t feel anything with that limb, and she desperately wanted him to feel every inch of her body with every inch of her own. “Can I take this off?”
He leaned back, breaking their kiss. “Why?”
“It isn’t you. I want to feel you.”
He set her aside. “It’s part of me now.”
“No, I just meant…” Her voice trailed off. She could see she’d made a horrible mistake, only intensifying his emotional moment. “I’m sorry.” She closed the distance between them and touched his chest lightly with her palm. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
She swallowed against her discomfiture. “I want to kiss you.” His expression told her he was angry, torn between taking her offer and walking away. She licked her lips. She had to try again. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed about kissing you? Being back in your arms, just one more time?”
“Arm. Singular.”
