Page 27 of Her Tempting Protector

Shada continued to stroke her baby’s hands as she nestled him next to her. He’d scored a nine on his Apgar test and had all indications of being a big and sturdy little boy if he got enough food. Now she watched as Shada started to whisper things into her son’s ear. Carys could hear the promises she was making. She wanted a better life for her son, one without pain.

She couldn’t handle it for another second, she fled out into the main area and once again ran straight into Cullen.

“Whoa there.” His voice was low as his hands took hold of her upper arms and her nose was practically buried in the hard-muscled planes of his chest. Startled, she looked up and up until she was finally looking into the bluest eyes she had ever seen before. They were filled with compassion. “Carys, are you okay?”

She shook her head. Her hair had long since escaped her French braid and tendrils flew across her face. She flinched. As if he knew that bothered her, he brushed them away from her eyes and lips.

“Let’s get some fresh air, would you like that?”

She nodded. She couldn’t seem to get any words out.

His look was so warm, so compassionate, she felt like she could melt into his arms. It felt so odd. She had never felt like this before. Not even with her husband had she felt like she could actually lean on someone. Well, except for that time, that man, in Santa Flores. But this was stronger even than that.

“Carys, come with me,” he coaxed. His hand clasped hers, their fingers entwined. He drew her outside, to a velvet night with sprinkles of stars glowing down on them. Cullen put his arm around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

“This isn’t me, you know,” she warned him.

“I know. But I think you need a little bit of care after your nightmare. Do you want to share?”

For the longest time, they just leaned against the tiny little house in the center of the world, staring up at the moon. Did she want to share with this man who she really didn’t know?

“It was a bad situation. I was almost raped. Almost killed. A SEAL saved me.”

Cullen brushed back another stray lock that the almost non-existent breeze had blown against her cheek. The feel of his fingers warmed a spot in her heart that had remained dormant for years.

“That sure is a short story.” His smile was sad.

“It’s true.” Her breath ruffled his chest hair.

He pressed her a little closer to his body and she felt safer. “I didn’t doubt that. Did you tell me enough to help with your nightmares, or are you going to have another one the next time you close your eyes?”

“It was a long time ago, Cullen, and with the things I see, the atrocities? I’m hard, Cullen. I’ve had to be rock hard to do this job. You know?”

“I know.” His voice rumbled under her ear. “But after the fight, there are times the ugliness comes up and bites me in the ass. Is that what happened to you today?”

She nodded. The feel of him against her cheek felt good. She moved just a millimeter closer. That was all she would allow herself. And, as if Cullen knew, he didn’t pull her any nearer, but his warmth sank into her bones just the same.

“Carys?” he prompted.

“It’s been a culmination of things. I resigned. I always knew this kind of work had a shelf-life. I was in the middle of getting my life together in Oregon when Hamdok’s people contacted me. I had resigned from Doctors Without Borders.”

She felt his stare, felt his questions, but he didn’t ask. He just waited for her to continue. Pain lashed through her as she remembered the last project she’d been on before she went home to the States to try to see if she would continue.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.

“It was the Moira camp in Greece that was the last straw,” she said woodenly. She wondered why Cullen sucked in his breath, then saw that her nails gouged into his chest.

“I’m sorry!” She tried to untangle herself from his embrace but he somehow managed to hold her close in such a gentle manner that it felt too good to give up, so she relaxed back against him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she apologized.

“Yep, it was going to be the scratches from your nails that were finally going to get me that Purple Heart, and I stopped you. Dammit, what was I thinking?”

For just a second she felt like smiling. How did he manage to do that?

“Finish your story, Carys. Tell me about Greece.” His voice lured the words from her broken heart.

“I revived a boy who was ten years old. It took me twenty minutes. When he woke up and looked around, he started crying and screaming. When I asked the translators what he was saying I found out that he’d tried to kill himself.”

She sucked in the hot African night air, trying to brace herself. “I lost it, Cullen. What was I doing this for if things had gotten so bad that in refugee camps the children were trying to kill themselves? What good was I?”