His Woman in Command & Operations: Forbidden: His Woman in Command / Operation: Forbidden. Lindsay McKenna
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lips tingled in anticipation. Nike could see the happiness burning in his blue eyes as he approached her. While part of her wanted to rush into Gavin’s arms, she halted a good six feet from him, hands on her hips. “Just dropping off supplies, a doctor and dentist, and getting the lay of the land and giving Jameela a box of dates as a goodwill gesture.”
Gavin sensed her unease but kept his smile. “Dates. That’s a great idea.” He added, “I missed you.”
Though wildly flattered, Nike couldn’t get on a personal footing with him. Lucky for them, there was all kinds of activity around the unloading of the helo. A number of men carried the cardboard boxes into the village. The doctor and dentist were led into a group of awaiting men and boys. “My boss wants me to spend an hour with you getting a sense of how things are going at the village. She’s compiling an ongoing dialogue with the generals above her on where each village stands.”
Raising his brows, Gavin said, “You ladies are on top of things.” He gestured for her to follow him. “Come on, we’ll go to the team house, have some chai and chat.”
Nike did not want to be alone with Gavin. He was too damned masculine. She wished for the thousandth time her traitorous body would stop clamoring for another kiss from him. Her mind was in charge and no way could she get involved again. Ever. “Okay, but this is business, Captain.”
“No problem,” Gavin said smoothly.
Walking at his shoulder, a good twelve inches between them, Nike said, “You never got that attack you were expecting. I’m glad.”
Gavin dodged the muddy ruts made by the continuous donkey-cart traffic through the village. “Yeah, we’re relieved. But suspicious.” The sun had warmed the village and children played in the late afternoon. Dogs ran around barking and chasing one another. Women in burkas were here and there, but mostly, they moved the window curtains aside to stare at them walking by.
Nike saw a number of barefoot children with mud up to their knees. She smiled a little. They were tough little kids in her opinion and yet, so huggable. She started handing out the bag of candy she carried in her hand. In no time, every child in the village surrounded them. Nike made sure each child, no matter how little, got a handful of jellybeans. When it was gone, they disappeared with their treasures. She turned to Gavin. “I’m glad for you it’s been quiet around here. Why do you think that happened?”
Gavin nodded as they sauntered toward the stone home on the left. “We think the Taliban got tipped off by someone here in the village and they decided to take other paths into the country.”
“But that doesn’t guarantee anything for long,” Nike said.
“True, but we’re making progress. Abbas is softening his stance toward us. He’s still worried the Taliban will see him consorting with us. And I think someone in the village was scared to death of the same thing, intercepted the Taliban and told them to take another track. That way, it would look like this village was still helping the Taliban. It’s a real balancing act out here for Abbas.” Gavin halted and gestured to a large mud-brick home. “Here we are. Come on in. I’m ready for some hot chai.”
Inside, the hard-packed earth had been swept. Everything was clean and neat. The men’s equipment stood up against the walls in neat rows. There was a stove in the corner with plenty of wood, the tin chimney rising up and out of the roof. The windows were clean and sunlight made the room almost bright, if not cheerful.
“Have a seat,” Gavin said, taking off his hat and putting his rifle nearby. He shrugged out of the dark brown tunic and then removed his body armor. “Feels good to get out of this thing,” he muttered. “I live in it almost twenty-four hours a day.”
“Armor is the pits,” Nike agreed. She saw several small rugs and pillows near the stove. Taking a seat on one, she watched as Gavin went through the motions of putting water in a copper kettle and then sitting it on top of the stove. Her heart pined for his arms around her, his mouth cherishing her lips. For now, she fought her desire, crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.
“If your CO wants to know about this village,” Gavin said, pulling a tin of loose tea off a shelf, “tell her that we’ve got about a twenty-percent pro-American base here now. The men are starting to open up to us.”
“Is that all?” Nike pulled out a notebook and a pen from her left pocket.
Gavin filled the tea strainer and gave her a one-raised-eyebrow look. “Is that all? It’s only been a week. I think that’s pretty amazing.”
Jotting it down, Nike said, “I’ve brought a medical doctor and a dentist and hygienist with me. That ought to encourage a little more loyalty.”
He poured hot water into two tin mugs and then dipped in the strainer filled with loose tea. “If we could gain loyalty like that, all we’d have to do is hand out money and buy them off.”
“I understand.”
“Honey?”
“Yes, please.” She watched as he poured goat’s milk into the mixture and pulled another tin from the shelf. He ladled out a teaspoonful of golden honey into each cup. Another tin contained a spice mixture and he put a pinch into the steaming chai. There was something solid and steady about Gavin. He had a confidence born from experience in the field. Everything he did had a sureness to it. Nike realized that he was the kind of leader anyone could trust completely. That was just another reason to like him way too much.
Gavin brought over the steaming mug. “Chai for two,” he teased. He set his cup on the ground and brought up a small gold rug and pillow, sitting opposite her. “And I know Jameela’s chai rocks, but she isn’t about to give her secret recipe to anyone.” He chuckled.
“She gave it to me. I loved staying at her home. At the base I keep trying different chai mixtures to duplicate it, but so far, no luck.” Nike sipped the delicious chai. “Hey, this isn’t bad, Jackson.” She tried to relax, but being so close to him made her squirm endlessly. Not to mention Gavin seemed even more handsome with his long-sleeved cotton shirt and brown Afghan trousers. His beard, as always, was meticulously shaped and trimmed. Even his hair was longer in order to emulate the Afghan men’s hairstyle. His skin was so suntanned he could easily have passed for an Afghani.
“So, did you miss me?” he inquired with a wicked grin.
Nike refused to meet his eyes. Her hands tightened imperceptibly around the tin mug. “I didn’t have time.”
“Pity,” Gavin teased. He saw how uncomfortable Nike had become. Yet, her cheeks reddened and there had to be a reason for it. “Well,” he said conversationally, “I sure missed you.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“You know why, Gavin. I just can’t fall for another military man.”
“Oh, that’s right—you think I’ll die in combat.”
“There’s a damn good chance of that.”
“Well,” he pointed out, “look at you. You have an Apache strapped to your butt and you’re always a fair target for the Taliban, too.”
“That’s different.”
“How? A bullet is a bullet.”
“You’re infuriating. Were you on the debate team at your college?”
“Actually, a university. And yes, I was on the debate team for four years. I like arguing.” He flashed a smile even when revealing this nugget of truth.
“Of course you do.” Nike couldn’t help but smile back, all while trying to steady her racing heart. “Which university?”
“Princeton. Where did you get your degree?”
“The University of Athens.”
He gave her a warm look. “Congratulations.”