His face softened, his full lips parting, but even as a wave of pain shuddered through him, he didn't take his eyes off her. The thought of not kissing him ever was too much for her. Her attraction to him might have been adrenaline-induced, but this felt...real.

He reached up, his hand tangling in her hair. He closed his eyes, drawing her down, the rush of sensation so intense she had to grit her teeth against it. He tightened his hold on her; her heart was hammering, her breath constricted. He pressed her face against his in such a tender move that she clutched his head, her hands curling around his scalp. She made a low, desperate sound and twisted her head, his mouth suddenly hot and urgent against hers. The bolt of pure, raw sensation knocked the wind out of her.

She widened her mouth against his, feeding on the desperation that poured back and forth between them. She made a soft sound and clutched at him.

"I'll be back," she whispered against his lips.

She rose away from him, and in his confusion, he said, "Back? Where are you going? Don't you do something stupid, Piper." The warning in his voice was filled with anger, but it wasn't directed at her.

"Everything is okay," she said in a soothing voice. "Afsana?" she called, and they both came back into the room.

Every muscle in her body protested moving, and her nerve endings felt as if they were stripped raw, but she tried to ignore the feelings pounding through her. She had no idea what she was doing or what he'd done to her.

"Piper," he said weakly. "Don't you dare..." He trailed off, rolling to his good side and pushing up, gritting and gasping in pain. She ran back over and supported him against her, his glassy eyes pleading. "I can get up. We have to keep moving."

"No. You can't. Stop being a macho idiot. I've got this covered."

He writhed in pain, his head rolling. "The bodies...stop pulling...stop dropping... I can't breathe..." He passed out again. There wasn't anything he could say that would stop her. She gently laid him down.

They walked to the door and Afsana wrapped the head scarf tightly, pulling the material up over Piper's face, tucking the ends in securely. "Good luck, Piper. I'm sorry I couldn't go with you."

"No, I understand and we can't wait. I'm sure it will be fine, but if I don't come back..."

"You will, but we will take care of him. I promise."

The door closed behind her and she found herself on a dirt road, where several children were playing and an old man was working an outside kiln. Some shopkeepers had small carts and were selling food, the aroma hitting her hard.

She started walking, not looking right or left. Walking briskly, already feeling the effects of the heat, no one paid her any heed except for a wave from the guy with the kiln. She waved back and kept moving. She reached back as she walked for a bottle of water and the food Afsana had packed. Slipping her hands to her mouth, she ate and drank as she hit the outskirts of town. Her stomach tightened, but she kept walking, rounding a bend in the road, and the trees crowded closer, forming a scrubby wall on the side of the road as it dipped to a small, narrow bridge with plank decking. She crossed the bridge and followed the curve, soon hitting the paved road that stretched out into the distance, mountain ranges up ahead. After thirty minutes, she couldn't see the town anymore.

Suddenly there was a rumble from behind her and she bowed her head and kept walking. She heard someone speak in the Pashto language, but she kept walking. She stopped when the voice got insistent.

Turning her body so she could see better, she froze. Her heart stalled, then dropped in a sickening rush. There was a convoy of soldiers alongside her.

There was a man who was motioning out of the side window of the lead truck, the back full of men carrying guns and what looked like grenade launchers. She stared at him, a wild, tense flutter taking off in her middle. She had no idea what he was saying; her brain froze.

Gripping her hands together, she tucked them into the wide sleeves to hide her light skin and to help stop the trembling, she swallowed hard, her mouth dry, fighting against the knot of fear in her gut.

She bowed her head, touching her throat and then her mouth. The man yammered at her again and pointed to the back of the truck. She felt as if every ounce of warmth had drained out of her, leaving her cold and clammy, while he stared at her, looking angry and grim. She would bluff her way through this... Dex's life hung in the balance. She had to get that antibiotic.

Feeling completely unsure, she took a breath, trying to remain outwardly calm, her heart pounding even harder.

She finally got it, a shock of realization through the paralysis. He wanted her to catch a ride with them into the city. She shook her head, bowing and moving off. He said something else and then the convoy started moving again.

She kept walking, her breathing erratic and her heart hammering inside her chest. The ache in her throat so intense that she was afraid she was going to cry. Putting one foot in front of the other, she kept heading toward town. She watched as the trucks kept moving, and finally relief washed through her.

Consciously resisting the pull of old memories, Piper watched the changing sky, listening to the rustle of the leaves and the stirrings in the bushes.

That kiss had really rocked her, her attraction to Dex overwhelming even with her grief over the loss of her husband. With guilt heavy on her, she had to admit she hadn't felt like this, ever. That also shook her quite a bit. Brad had been the love of her life, but with Dex...it was different. Hotter, more intense, totally consuming. But it had been eighteen months since Brad had died and her world had collapsed. Losing their unborn child and the complications, making it unlikely she would ever carry another, were also devastating losses.

Even if she could get past all that, Dex was a SEAL, a man who lived his life in constant danger, gone on deployment most of the year. She wasn't sure she wanted that in her life. When she committed, it was 100 percent. She was the kind of woman who worked closely with her man, stuck by him when times got tough, even though the political trail was an exhausting one. She'd been fearless back then, before the accident. But loss had a way of changing someone and the pain of losing somebody she loved again would be too hard.

She tried not to think anymore, downing the last of the water just as two men appeared, each riding a small donkey and leading two camels laden with what looked like wheat cropped at the bottom of the stalk and tied onto the tall beasts. She could almost believe she was in Utah, the landscape was so familiar, but seeing the camels drove home to her that she wasn't in the United States and she was far from safe.

The memories of Brad dredged up her longing for a family of her own-a solid, close-knit one. Brad had been like Dex-fearless, strong, his principles and convictions driving him. Such a good man.

Well, this wasn't doing her any good, thinking about Brad and guilt and Dexter's very hot, very real kiss. She closed her eyes briefly, battling with the lingering feel of his lips against hers. She was trying to deny she was thinking about Dex, wanting more with him, using fear and adrenaline as excuses, but deep down she knew neither of those biological reactions had anything to do with the very feminine reaction she'd had to that gorgeous mouth. Tears stung her eyes as she recognized that maybe she was ready to take that step. Her gut twisted with her real need to get beyond feeling disloyal. Brad would want her to move on. Wouldn't he? But that uneasy feeling persisted as the city materialized in front of her in the haze of the heat. Her heart did a little spin, remembering the way his lips had tasted, the deep, melting blue of his eyes and the immediate response she had of craving more. They had connected so fast, so deeply, it scared her. More than being alone with nothing. She was used to nothing.

She had to concentrate on getting out of this mess and saving the SEAL who had saved her, not spinning fantasies that would easily dissolve in the harsh reality of running from unknown assailants who wanted her dead for God knew what reason.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the convoy drive off the road and head into the distance in a cloud of dust. They were bypassing Charikar. That was a good thing.

She noticed with a start that there were two armed guards, part of the Parwan security forces, manning the entrance into the city. People were moving easily around a cylinder, a long, green-and-white striped pole similar to a parking garage barrier gate. The gate stretched across a turquoise blue-and-white stylized arch as it was lifted for entrance and lowered to stop vehicles for searches. She lifted her chin, relaxing her muscles to look more natural. She didn't want to draw any attention. The two guards at the gate were busy searching a vehicle and she sauntered through without any problems. Once inside the bustling city, she pulled the map out of her pocket and studied it.

The WHO office was downtown and that was still a trek. With a city of ninety-six thousand people, it was as crowded as many places in the States, only the cars were older and rougher-sounding. People moved briskly along and Piper didn't slow, but waded into the crowd. She was jostled and had to sidestep often.

Taking a left, according to the map, put her in a residential section with the same sandy-colored houses that she'd seen in the village, only a little less worn. She found fewer people here, but continued her pace.

Turning right this time, she went down a long street and came out to a main thoroughfare. She'd reached the center of town. As she traversed deeper into downtown, Charikar hummed with commerce. She encountered more and more people. Passing the bazaar that was marked on her map, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She was almost there. Feeling the effects of too much adrenaline, dehydration, shock and terror, she reached the clinic's doors and pushed through them. She stumbled down the corridor and came out into a waiting area.

There was a woman behind the counter and she looked up, her dark skin glistening with sweat. She said something in Pashto, but Piper couldn't catch her breath, she was so hot.

Piper swayed, feeling dizzy. For a moment, she couldn't speak, then she rasped, "Help me."

The woman's eyes widened and she rushed around the desk as Piper started to fall. She caught her and bodily dragged her to a chair, pulling off the keffiyeh. Her eyes widened when she saw her blond hair.

"You are American?" the woman said.

Piper nodded. "Water, please," Piper rasped.

Just then two Afghan soldiers walked in and Piper stiffened. It wouldn't do for anyone to know she was an American and draw attention. Piper switched to French and said, "Please help me."

Immediately the woman responded. "Of course. Tell me what is wrong." Piper relaxed as they lost interest in her.

The woman called to the back in rapid French and a dark-haired man emerged and started to speak to the soldiers. He nodded and went to the back. When he came out he handed them something and they left.

"What are you doing here? This is no place for an American woman alone."

"I'm here for Lieutenant Dexter Kaczewski. He's wounded and has a bad fever."

The woman's face went from professionally detached to concerned, then she yelled, "Pierre!"

The dark-haired man came rushing out and spoke more of the rapid French as he went into the back and brought a bottle of water. Piper drank.

"Are you Dr. Contee?"

"Yes, but please call me Blessing," she said with a thick French accent. "Anyone who is a friend of that fine man is a friend to me. This is my husband, Pierre. Let's get you cooled off."

"There's no time. Dex."

"All right, then." She turned to her husband, a large, imposing man. "Keep giving her water." She walked over to two white cabinets and opened the door to the first one. "What happened to him?"

Between sips of water, Piper explained everything from his RPG wounding all the way to when he collapsed at Afsana's.

"He was bleeding?"

"Yes, a lot."

"Still when you left?"

"Yes. When he got into that fight with the insurgent, I think that guy pulled his stitches. Really, it's only been a day..."

Her voice hitched, but Pierre set his hand on her shoulder and squeezed and it helped. She looked up into his kind brown eyes. He smiled. "You have done well to get here, little one. The heart of a lion, yes, wife?"

"I would say that's true." Blessing smiled at her husband.

"A day since he was injured. He was amazing and he saved my life."

"Ah, there's no doubt that is true. He is a warrior and a protector. But he is in good hands. Afsana and her husband are very liberal, but must hide it, I'm afraid. They are good people. Dex is safe with them." After grabbing several ampules, syringes, gloves, gauze, antiseptic and bandages, she stuffed everything into a black bag.

"I must go with this woman to help Dexter. You stay here and I will come back as soon as I can." She cupped his face and kissed him on both cheeks, then the mouth. "Sois prudent, mon amour."

He nodded and repeated it as if it was their ritual. Stay safe, my love. How sweet. She immediately thought of Dex, and although he wasn't her love, she got a little discombobulated thinking about that kiss, as if the sentiments were the same.

They exited the clinic through the back door to an alley, where a tan Jeep was parked. Piper was so thankful that she didn't have to walk any more in this heat and they were going to get back to Dex swiftly.

Blessing slipped into the driver's seat and started up the car. Putting it in gear, she edged out of the narrow driveway into the street as people passed by. No one paid them much attention. When she reached the gate, she spoke fluently to the guard, who, after a cursory search, let them pass.

They were flying along when Blessing said, "What are you doing in Afghanistan?"

Piper explained the situation and Blessing's brows rose. "A US senator attacked by her own people. Sounds like there is trouble for you at home. This is why you haven't contacted the authorities?"

"Yes, Dex insisted we couldn't take the chance."

"Then I would heed his warning. He is the best judge."

It wasn't long before they were entering the small village, and even though some people glanced in their direction, no one came over. Piper had already recovered her head with the keffiyeh and they knocked.

Afsana answered the door all smiles. "Come in. You are welcome." As soon as the door closed, she embraced Piper, then Blessing. "Thank you for coming. I knew you were going to be okay."

"How is he?" Blessing asked before Piper could answer, a lump in her throat.

Piper spied two small boys, one about eight and the other not more than six. They eyed her shyly, the little one smiling at her.

"This is Israr and Emad, my sons."

"They're beautiful," Piper said. Especially the oldest one with his dark shock of hair and gorgeous blue eyes.

"Raffi is going to take them to my cousin's for a visit."

Just then her husband came out with the boys' traveling cases, greeted her and hustled them out of the house.

They all made their way to the small sleeping chamber. Dex was shirtless with a white bandage from just below his left armpit to his waist, bathed in sweat, and Blessing knelt down next to him. She rolled up her sleeves. "Afsana, s'il vous plat, hot water, and keep it coming."

Piper swayed; the relief was almost overwhelming. Afsana steadied her and she clasped the woman's hand. "He is going to be fine. I have seen him worse. He is a fighter."

Piper nodded and went to kneel beside his head. She took up the cloth, still in a basin of water, and started to smooth it across his forehead. He turned his head toward her and his eyes fluttered open. "Ah, the angel is back."

"Hello, Dex. I got you a doctor."

He sighed and his gaze flicked toward the WHO worker. "Hello, Blessing."

"I see you've gotten yourself into another pickle, handsome."

"Yeah, just a flesh wound," he said.

Blessing rolled up her sleeves, chuckling as she donned the gloves. "SEALs like to understate things, I think." When she removed the bandages, he groaned and rolled his head; her eyes went grave. "Yes, indeed." She glanced at Piper and said, "I'll need your help."

Chapter 6.

Piper couldn't seem to keep her hands off him. It wasn't just the fact that he was in pain. She needed to touch him. Could it be because, even in this state, he made her feel so safe? Was it reassurance?

Shaking two pills into her palm, Blessing grabbed a water bottle and handed it to Piper. "Get him to swallow these."

Donning a pair of rubber gloves, Blessing pulled out a vial and a syringe.

He turned his face away. "I'm allergic to..."

"Morphine. I remember. Those pills are a pain reliever and a fever reducer."

He took the pills and dry swallowed them, following up with a sip of water.

"Dex, I would really like to stop meeting like this," she said, starting to work on the wounds with the needle, applying anesthetic.

"I have to agree. But you're good for my health."

She flashed a wide, white smile, pulling a small pair of scissors and tweezers out of her bag, swabbing both his wounds and her instruments thoroughly and eliciting a quick indrawn breath from him. "I don't want sewing you up to become a habit." She started to cut the stitches and pull the threads, along with any stray pieces of stitching caught in his skin or the ragged wound, shaking her head. "Someone did a number on him. I've never seen stitches pulled out of the skin like this," she said.

Feeling a little queasy at the sight of his torn and ripped flesh, Piper said, "The man who tried to kill me stomped on his wound on purpose, but it only slowed Dex down."