Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,83

see the back of his head. She parted swatches of hair to better see his scalp. The damned knot she’d felt was large and bruised, but not bleeding. “You’ve got a concussion, Hotrod—”

By then, he’d buried his face between her breasts, and a flood of memories swamped Persia. How could she hate the man who’d made sweet love with her back in Florida?

Gently, she cupped that hard head, and eased his nose out from her cleavage. “It’s no wonder your head hurts. I’ll get an ice pack, then we need to get your temp down. There’s a tub across the hall. I’ll run a cold bath, and then somehow, we’ll get you into it.”

“We,” he breathed, his breath in her face hot and foul, smelling of infection. “You said we.”

Persia nodded, not afraid of whatever germs this man might be carrying. He was in her custody now, and he was safe. That was all that mattered. “Yes, Hotrod. You and me. We’re going to get you cooled down and then back to bed, where you can sleep the rest of the day, okay? We fly home first thing tomorrow.”

“You know who I am.” He hadn’t moved, but those battered eyes glittered with what could only be tears. And that broke her heart.

“Yes, sugar, I know who you are. I use your SEAL handle because that’s who you were the last time we were together.” She hoped that made sense. “Let me help you up.”

“But they took my Budweiser, damn it. I’m not a SEAL anymore.”

“You are to me.”

She had to keep him moving, though. But when she lifted to her feet and grabbed him, arm to the elbow, to get a better grip, he easily pulled her down onto his lap. Persia found herself snuggled inside the steel bands she’d been dreaming about for weeks.

“This isn’t helpful,” she muttered against the sweaty, solid strength of his chest, loving the feel of him beneath her as much as hating the less than professional position he’d put her in. What would Izza say when she found out that Persia and Hotrod had slept together? That they’d had one hot, steamy, glorious night together in Florida? And Izza would. She had a sixth sense for girl/guy stuff like that. What would Alex say? He’d fire her for sure. The implications…

No. Just no! Persia couldn’t think about anything except getting this man into the tub, cooled down, then back to his bed, where she could finally replace his bandages and doctor him and kiss him better and… Man, this was going to be her toughest mission ever.

“But you know who I am,” he growled. “You know I lied to you. And I left. I wasn’t even man enough to tell you goodbye. Hell, I wasn’t man enough all that night.”

Easing away from her very secure location, she put a fingertip to his lips. “Yes, I know you weren’t exactly honest with me, but I’m not mad. Not anymore. I was at first, but I think I know why you did what you did.”

“Why… why aren’t you mad? Everyone else is.”

The anguish in his question was heartbreaking. “Because I’m not everyone else. I saw the man you were the night we were together. That, and I’ve been going over your transcript on the flight over. I haven’t read all of it, but something about your trial isn’t right. Come on, sugar. You’re very sick. Talk can wait.”

Those poor battered eyelids closed, squeezing one pinkish tear out. It trickled down his nose. It was as if no one had ever called him sugar before. Well, good.

“You came for me,” he ground out, his eyelids squeezed tight.

Persia put her hand around his stiff neck and tugged until he had no choice but to face her. “Yes, I came for you, and we’re going to get you safely back to the States. But you can’t get on any flights out of here while you’re sick. The altitude will kill you if you’re congested. Let’s do this. Now. Let me up.”

He did let her up, but he didn’t let her go. With one hand resting heavily on her shoulders, Hotrod allowed Persia to lead him across the hall. Which was an erotic treat all by itself, to be followed by a handsome naked man who dwarfed her by a foot and outweighed her by—a lot.

Most European homes came with tiny water closet bathrooms, hell, with tiny everything. But this safe house had been built American-style. The tub was extra-large,