No Going Back

She’d arrived in Kuwait the previous afternoon and had waited nearly fourteen hours for a military flight to Bagram Airfield. Now she watched as the base came into view on the ground below. From a distance, the place looked enormous, but for as far as she could see there were only unrelenting shades of brown, from the desert to the distant mountains, and even the base itself. Opening her shoulder bag, Kate looked again at the information that the Army Morale, Welfare and Recreation department had sent to her.

Over the course of a week, Tenley would perform concerts at three different American bases in Afghanistan, as well as conduct meet-and-greet sessions with the troops. The USO had assured Kate that someone would meet her upon her arrival, and escort her to each location. Kate had spent most of the flight writing Tenley’s speech, in which her sister apologized for her thoughtless rant and pledged her support for the men and women in uniform. Kate only hoped it would be enough.

The big jet touched down on the airstrip at Bagram Airfield, and Kate was surprised to see they would disembark directly onto the tarmac. Peering out the window of the plane, she couldn’t see any building that looked remotely like an airport terminal. The airfield seemed to be nothing more than an enormous airstrip alongside a cluster of tents and makeshift hangars, and a hodgepodge of other small buildings. Maybe this wasn’t the airfield at all. Maybe the plane was making an unscheduled stop at some remote base and then they would head on to Bagram.

The aisle of the plane was quickly filling with uniformed soldiers waiting to disembark. Leaning forward, Kate tugged on the sleeve of the nearest man. He turned and looked at her expectantly.

“Excuse me, but is this Bagram Field?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you sure? I mean, have you been here before?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he assured her. “This is my third deployment.”

“Oh. Well, where exactly is the terminal? I mean, where do I pick up my luggage?”

Ducking his head to avoid the overhead storage bins, the soldier leaned across the seat and pointed through the window. “See that hangar, there? That’s the terminal. This is an airfield, ma’am, as in airfield. They’re not really set up like you’re used to at home. Look, they’re bringing the luggage out now.”

Kate watched as a group of soldiers began systematically dragging baggage from the cargo hold of the plane, only instead of stacking the items on a small trolley to be transported into the terminal, they literally threw the bags into one enormous pile right there on the flight line. When the mountain of duffel bags threatened to fall over, they started a new pile right next to it.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “How am I supposed to find my bag?”

The soldier gave her a grin and straightened. “Well, ma’am, that’s half the fun. Welcome to Afghanistan, and good luck.”

Kate watched helplessly as he departed, then scooped her shoulder bag up and fell into line behind the soldiers. As soon as she stepped out the door of the aircraft, the heat slapped her in the face like a hot brick. To compound the discomfort, the air itself was filled with a fine, powdery dust that immediately infiltrated her mouth and nose and sent her into a fit of uncontrollable sneezing.

“Oh, my God,” she gasped, when she could finally catch her breath.

The soldier in front of her turned around and gave her a quick grin. “You’ll get used it.”

Kate doubted it. She’d never experienced heat like this. It seemed to suck the very moisture out of her skin and left her gasping for breath. Even Las Vegas in the summer hadn’t been this oppressive. At the bottom of the airplane steps, she automatically turned toward the piles of luggage, but found her way blocked by a military police officer.

“Just follow the line for processing, ma’am,” he said briskly, indicating she should continue toward the nearest hangar. “You’ll be notified when all the baggage is out of the aircraft.”

In dismay, Kate saw that the line snaked across the tarmac and disappeared inside one of the makeshift hangars. It was moving at a snail’s pace, and Kate knew she would die of heat stroke before she ever made it into the building. She could almost feel the sweat evaporating from her skin as she stood under the baking sun.

Hefting her shoulder bag higher, she looked around her, astonished at the sheer number of men. There were men everywhere—soldiers who seemed to be waiting for transportation, soldiers sleeping or sitting upright against their gear, soldiers reading books, standing around in small groups, playing handheld video games or listening to music on their ear buds. There was a handful of female soldiers, but they were hugely outnumbered by the men. Kate couldn’t help but notice that all of them—male and female—carried some sort of weapon.

She was acutely conscious of her own vulnerability. She carried no weapon, unless you counted the Montegrappa pen that Tenley had brought back from Italy as a gift for her. She didn’t even possess a helmet or bulletproof vest. Who would protect her in the event of an attack?

“Miss Fitzgerald?”

Kate turned to see a soldier striding toward her—a tall, muscular soldier who looked like he kicked ass for a living. He had the easy, loose-limbed gait of an athlete, and as he drew closer, Kate swallowed hard. The growth of beard he sported couldn’t hide his square jaw or detract from the chiseled cheekbones and proud nose. With his broad shoulders and powerful arms, he looked more than a little dangerous. The thought flashed through her head that given a few spare hours, this guy could singlehandedly end the war.

“Yes?” Her hand went self-consciously to her hair, and she tried to ignore the way her pulse kicked up a notch.

As he came forward, he yanked his sunglasses off and she saw his eyes were a translucent green, startling in his tanned face. Her breath caught and she found herself helpless to look away. He was the stuff of heroic action movies, a combination of masculine strength and confidence all wrapped up in a mouthwatering package. She’d never had this kind of immediate reaction to a man before. Her heart raced, and her knees were actually wobbly. Feeling a little panicked, Kate tried to recall the last time she’d eaten. Her blood sugar must be low. Either that or she was dehydrated.

The soldier extended his hand and his eyes swept over her in sharp assessment. “Ma’am. I’m Major Rawlins. I’ll be your military escort for the duration of your visit.”

His hand gripped hers, and she barely had time to register how warm and callused his palm was against her own before he released her.

“If you’ll follow me, please.”

Without giving her an opportunity to respond and without waiting to see if she would do as he said, he turned and walked toward the hangar. Kate watched his retreating back, feeling as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her. Then, realizing her mouth was hanging open, she snapped it shut and stepped out of the line to hurry after him, her oversize shoulder bag bouncing uncomfortably against her hip.

“Major Rawlins,” she called as she caught up with him.

He glanced over at her but did not slow down. “Yes?”

“My understanding was that the USO would provide a civilian representative who would be my point of contact.” As he strode briskly along, Kate tried to simultaneously walk and fish through her bag for the paperwork she had received from the USO, but the task was nearly impossible given the pace he set. Maybe she’d misunderstood him. Maybe he was only her driver. Oh, God, please let him be the driver. She’d never felt so self-conscious or tongue-tied as she did with this guy, evidence that she’d gone too long without male contact. Or at least, gorgeous male contact.

“You understood wrong, ma’am,” he said smoothly, never breaking stride.

Abandoning the search for her papers, Kate concentrated instead on keeping up with him. Arriving at the front of the long line, she saw several military police scanning everyone’s identification cards. Flashing his own ID, Major Rawlins stepped into the front of the line and looked expectantly at Kate.

“You should have been assigned a temporary identification card when you arrived at the processing center in Kuwait,” he explained carefully. “Do you have it with you?”

“What? Oh, yes!” Setting her bag down on the table, Kate began rummaging through it. She’d purchased a bright orange lanyard for the card, specifically so she could locate it in a hurry, but with everything else she’d managed to stuff into the large tote, she couldn’t locate the identification.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, uncomfortably aware of Major Rawlins’s growing irritation. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”

Pulling out two paperback novels, an MP3 player and a bag of trail mix, she set them on the table and continued digging through the contents of the bag. Behind her, she heard several soldiers mutter something under their breath and knew she was holding up the line. She glanced at the military police officer who watched her impassively with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Sorry,” she muttered again.

“Here, let me help you,” Major Rawlins offered.

Kate thought she saw the hint of a dimple in one lean cheek, and before she could protest, he took her bag and upended it, spilling the contents onto the table. Ignoring Kate’s gasp, he swept one finger through the assorted flotsam and came up with the ID card attached to the orange lanyard. Yanking the card from the holder, he handed it to the military police officer.

“You see? That wasn’t so difficult,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. Accepting the ID card back from the officer, he returned it to Kate. “Wear this where it’s visible. Follow me, please.”

Dropping the lanyard over her head, Kate watched with rising annoyance as he made his way back toward the flight line. With one hand, she swept her personal items back into her shoulder bag and determinedly followed Major Rawlins.

“Find your gear and let’s go,” he said, nodding toward the three enormous piles of duffel bags sitting on the tarmac.

Kate glanced at his face to see if he was joking. With his sunglasses shielding his eyes, she couldn’t decipher his expression, but it seemed he had no intention of helping her. Glancing at the daunting piles, she drew in a deep breath.

“Here, hold this,” she said, and pushed her shoulder bag into his hands. She sensed his surprise, but he made no objection, tucking the bag under his arm as he watched her.

Kate had packed her belongings in a neon-pink duffel bag that had once belonged to Tenley, thinking it would be easy to spot. But she’d been wrong. Circling each of the piles, she couldn’t see any sign of pink peeking through the dozens of army-green duffel bags, which meant her own was probably buried somewhere near the bottom. She prepared to grab the handles of the nearest duffel when a masculine voice interrupted her.

“Ma’am, are you looking for a particular bag?”

Turning, she saw two young soldiers walking toward her. Just moments earlier, they had been lounging against their own piles of gear, chatting idly.

Kate nodded. “Yes. I have a bright pink duffel bag, but I can’t see it anywhere.”

The second soldier, who looked to be no older than Tenley, grinned. “No problem, ma’am, we can find it for you.” Turning, he whistled through his teeth to a group of soldiers gathered near the entrance to the hangar and motioned them over. “Hey, guys, give us a hand over here!”

Within minutes, there were a dozen young men enthusiastically digging their way through the piles of luggage, calling out names as they identified a tag or lettering painted on the outside of the bag. Kate stepped back to watch, amazed by their enthusiasm and efficiency. In less than five minutes, the first soldier held Kate’s bag up in triumph.

“Is this it?” he asked.

Kate came forward and took the duffel from him. “That’s the one,” she said with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much!”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

Clutching the heavy bag, Kate turned back to Major Rawlins, who stood to one side with his arms crossed over his impressive chest, her tote dangling from one hand. She wasn’t certain, but Kate thought she detected amusement on his face.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” she remarked cheerfully.

He raised an eyebrow and gave a noncommittal grunt. “Here, let’s trade,” he said, handing her the shoulder bag and taking the pink duffel from her. “I have a vehicle waiting out front.”

Kate watched as he walked back toward the hangar, a tough-as-nails warrior carrying a pink duffel bag in his hand. She wanted to laugh at the incongruous sight, but seeing that none of the surrounding soldiers so much as cracked a smile in his direction, she suppressed her own amusement. Drawing herself up, she followed him once more. She was getting tired of seeing nothing but this man’s backside, no matter how delectable it might be. And she had to admit, he did have a fine ass. Frowning at her thoughts, she hefted her tote bag over her shoulder and followed him.

“Major Rawlins, I’d like to get started right away,” she said, trying to match his long strides. “I understand that with the sheer number of entertainers who are coming over, the USO ran out of room to accommodate my client and her band. I’d like to see where Tenley will stay while she’s here. And do you know who will accompany me to the other bases?”

He did stop then, so abruptly that Kate nearly plowed into him. Slowly, he removed his sunglasses and turned to face her. His gaze drifted over her and that muscle worked in his lean cheek. Kate felt herself go hot beneath his regard, and she wondered what was going through his head.

“Just so that we’re clear,” he said carefully, “I am your single point of contact for whatever you require while you are here. We will travel together, eat together, view the venues together and basically be attached at the hip until you depart. This is a combat environment, Miss Fitzgerald, and I’m responsible for your well-being. You don’t do anything without me, or without my permission. Understood?”

Kate stared at him, and for the first time since she’d made the decision to come to Afghanistan, realized the personal impact. The knowledge that she would spend the next three days in this man’s exclusive company caused a shiver to go through her, but whether it was one of dread or anticipation, she couldn’t tell.

Major Rawlins was unlike any man she’d ever met before. He was testosterone personified, and the way he looked at her made her go a little boneless. For the first time she could recall, she wasn’t the one in control, the one calling the shots. That fact should have annoyed her. Instead, she found herself agreeing wholeheartedly to his conditions.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I understand.”

She thought he would turn and walk away again, but he stood watching for a moment longer, as if there was something about her that puzzled him. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of green, reminding her of the clear, warm waters of the Caribbean.

“I’m curious. Why are you here, Miss Fitzgerald?”

She frowned, taken aback by the question. “I beg your pardon? It’s my job to ensure everything is ready for my client’s visit.”

“But why are you here? In Afghanistan? Why not some military base on American soil? Why come all the way over here when your client wasn’t originally scheduled to perform as part of the Independence Day concert?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “No offense, but Tenley Miles is little more than a child, and you—” He broke abruptly off.

“What?” Kate asked. “I’m what?”

He gave a soft laugh. “Well, I just can’t figure out why a woman like you would come over here, unaccompanied.”

Kate hesitated. She had to assume that he knew the truth; that he’d seen the news reports and was aware that Tenley had directed her vitriol toward the military’s policy of sending troops to Iraq and Afghanistan. She couldn’t blame him for his attitude, but neither could she explain to him the reasons behind Tenley’s meltdown. Her sister’s precipitous marriage and subsequent annulment had to remain a secret.

She hesitated, wondering how direct she could be without giving him too much information. “Tenley has been going through a difficult time,” she began cautiously. “She said some things about the military that were pretty horrible and, well …” She gave a soft laugh. “Let’s just say that I’m hoping this tour will be a humbling experience for her.”

“Oh, I’m certain it will be,” he said, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile. He glanced at his watch. “We should get going.”

Outside, the unrelenting heat, combined with the weight of her overloaded tote bag, quickly sapped her strength. She felt tired and achy and unprepared for whatever lay ahead. A military Humvee waited by the curb, and Kate watched as Major Rawlins put her gear in the back.

“Thank you,” she murmured as he held the door open for her. Climbing into the vehicle, she saw there was already another soldier behind the wheel. She expected Major Rawlins to get in the front passenger seat, and was unprepared when he slid in beside her, instead.

Sensing her surprise, he gave her a wry smile. “Attached at the hip, remember?”

Kate found herself staring at him. That small smile was enough to transform his features. How would he look if that smile were to expand to his eyes? She had a feeling that he might be irresistible.

“Where to, sir?” asked the driver.

“Take us to my housing unit.”

“Yes sir.” The driver grinned. “I know one female who is going to be very excited to see you again.”

Kate slanted Major Rawlins a questioning look, but if he felt her silent query, he ignored it. She felt a tug of curiosity. What would it be like to be romantically involved with this man? To have his whole and undivided attention? To see his eyes go hot with desire? The thought sent a small shiver through her, further proof that she’d been way too long without sex. Men didn’t usually have this effect on her, but having gone more than a year without intimacy of any kind, she suspected her hormones were on full alert and ready to revolt if she didn’t do something soon to appease them. But this wasn’t quite what she had in mind.

“Why are we going to your housing unit?” she asked. “Don’t you think you’re taking this attached-at-the-hip thing a little too seriously? I am not staying in your unit with you.”

She watched, entranced, as a smile spread across his face. She’d been wrong. He wasn’t just irresistible, he was downright devastating. His smile caused something to loosen inside her, and she found she couldn’t look away.

“Miss Fitzgerald,” he drawled, letting his gaze drift deliberately over her, “as attractive as you might be, I have no intention of sleeping with you.”

3

CHASE REGRETTED THE WORDS the instant they left his mouth. Their driver gave a snort of laughter which he quickly hid behind a sudden coughing fit after Chase sent him a quelling look. But it was the stricken expression on Kate Fitzgerald’s face that made him wish he’d kept his mouth shut. That, and the fact that a part of him recognized that given a different set of circumstances, she was the kind of woman he’d give his left nut to sleep with.

He wished like hell that she wasn’t so damned pretty. The instant he’d spotted her standing in the long line of uniformed soldiers, he’d felt as if someone had kicked him in the solar plexus.

He’d been in Afghanistan for six months, and he’d spent most of that time in the stark, forbidding mountains of the Kala Gush region, living and sleeping outside and enduring the harshest of conditions. Seeing Kate Fitzgerald had been an unexpected and potent reminder of everything he’d left behind, and for just an instant, his heart had ached with longing.

He’d had a tough time catching his breath and had to mentally shake himself in order to stop staring at her. She stuck out like an exotic bloom among a bed of weeds in her jewel-colored shirt, and the bright sun picked out the deep red lights in her silky dark hair. Without the heavy cardigan she’d worn in the photo, he could see she definitely had curves. Nice curves. Curves that begged to be touched. And he wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Every guy within fifty yards had been eyeballing her and he couldn’t blame them. She looked good enough to eat.

Then she’d turned and looked at him.

He’d expected her to have blue or even green eyes, but hers were coffee-brown fringed with dark lashes. As he’d drawn closer, he saw the splattering of freckles across her face, as if someone had flung flecks of gold paint at her. And her mouth … Christ, he found himself conjuring up decadent images of just what she could do with that mouth. Her lips were pillowy plump and pink and had opened on a soft “oh” of surprise when he’d called her name. She’d looked achingly feminine and completely out of place among the soldiers who surrounded her.

Now, as he saw her reaction to his words, he felt like a complete dick. He’d hurt her feelings. Her mouth opened, and for a moment she looked at him, appalled, before she snapped her jaw shut. Chase watched as a slow flush crept up her neck.

Why had he said that he had no intention of sleeping with her? Had it been to remind himself that she was off-limits? Or to ensure she disliked him enough that she’d want nothing to do with him? Because he knew that if she gave any indication that she found him attractive, he’d be toast. Everything about her appealed to him. He’d almost forgotten how good a woman could smell, or how smooth her skin could be. Looking at Kate, he wondered how her skin would feel under his fingertips. She had turned her face toward the window and the sunlight picked out the golden freckles on her cheeks and forehead. He wanted to trace them with a fingertip.

“Look,” he finally said, “I’m sorry. That was a poor attempt at humor. I mean, obviously I have no intention of sleeping with you—” He broke off at her expression of disbelief, as if she was amazed he was still talking. Lord, he was making a mess of it. Biting back a curse, he scrubbed a hand across his face and turned to the driver. “Step on it, Cochran.”

“Just so that we’re clear, Major Rawlins,” Kate said in a low voice as she sat stiffly beside him, “I’m here strictly to represent my client and ensure that everything is in order for her visit.”

Chase nodded, feeling like an idiot. “I understand, Miss Fitzgerald.”

She rolled her eyes. “And please stop calling me that. My name is Kate.”

He nodded. He could have told her his first name, but that would have encouraged a familiarity he wasn’t sure he was willing to move toward. This woman lived in a world so far removed from his that it might as well be in a different galaxy. She was the personal assistant to a superstar, and even if that star was on the verge of imploding, this woman—Kate—was accustomed to a world of bright lights and privilege, where her associations ensured a luxurious and pampered lifestyle. He, on the other hand, spent weeks at a time crawling through the desert and mountains, without so much as a change of clothing or a shave, in the company of men whose specialties were the stuff of nightmares. What could they possibly have in common?

The Humvee drew to a stop in front of a row of containerized housing units, or CHUs, which were nothing more than metal shipping containers outfitted for habitation. Since arriving at Bagram, Chase had barely had time to meet with Colonel Decker and then drop his gear off at the command headquarters before he’d had to meet Kate’s flight. He was in desperate need of a shower and a clean uniform.

“Wait here,” he said brusquely. “I just need to grab a few things.”

Inside the housing unit, the furnishings were Spartan. A small office took up the front part of the unit, with a desk, a chair and his computer equipment. The back part was where he slept on a narrow bed, with only a small wardrobe and a bedside table for furnishings. He didn’t even have a private latrine, but instead showered in the communal bathrooms with the rest of the troops. Since there were no other empty CHUs near his own, he’d had to improvise in finding Miss Fitzgerald a place to sleep where he could be nearby in case she needed anything. She wasn’t going to like the arrangements.