Hot Zone (Elite Force #2)(33)
Author: Catherine Mann

“This isn’t like you.” Frowning, she traced one finger down the leather of his shoulder harness on the shelf. “You’re not exactly an impulsive man.”

“Is that a problem? Like now?” He captured her hand in his and squeezed gently, trying to offer comfort. Trying to keep his eyes on her face and not on her nakedness. “I know you’re upset and there’s nothing I can do to fix this.”

She smoothed his damp hair. “I love you as you are, always. You know that, right?”

“I do.” He stepped closer, unable to resist the draw of her. His hands fell on her shoulders, warm and slick under his fingers. “Although I’m not always sure why.”

Her chin quivered as she swayed forward. Her naked body pressed against him, a perfect fit as always. “I just need to hear that you love me too, no matter what.”

Water beaded over her shoulders, trekking a sensuous path around and between her br**sts.

Worry fragmented as his eyes took in her caramel, rich skin bathed in the glow penetrating through the mesh overhead. Droplets glistened, begging him to taste every inch of her. All the frustration of the past couple of days, of the weeks prior to this trip, gnawed at his gut, demanding an outlet. Somehow time and tension had stolen a month from them since they’d made love. And maybe it was crazy—maybe he was crazy—he needed to have his wife.

Aiden dipped his head, kissed her, gathered her nearer, his hands spanning her waist and lower. She melted against him with a soft sigh and he growled his approval into her mouth. His hands glided lower until he cupped her bottom, lifting her against him until she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He knew this wasn’t wise, and it wasn’t at all the way he allowed himself to behave. Losing control had never been an option for him. But right now he could feel his world spinning out of control and damned if he could do a thing other than hold on tight to the woman he loved. Because, God love her, she was holding on to him every bit as tightly. Always, always she’d been there for him. His fears the week before they’d come here must have been misdirected edginess from the adoption—

Shit.

He didn’t want to think about the adoption or his missing son. He needed to ease the tension inside him before he snapped.

Lisabeth clung to his shoulders, kissing her way along his jaw, over his ear, until her face was buried in his neck. “I love you, Aiden, so much.”

“I know, baby, I know.” All he needed to do was inch down his pants and he would be inside her slick damp heat. She would be all around him. His wife. The honest-to-God love of his life, something he’d never expected to have…

The woman he’d vowed to protect.

His skin chilled and it had nothing to do with the water. His head fell to rest on her shoulder.

“Lisabeth, we can’t. I don’t have a condom”—his breath came out in ragged huffs—“and since all our luggage got lost, your pills are with it. We can’t risk pregnancy, especially not now.”

He twisted off the shower and yanked the fresh scrubs off a high shelf positioned out of reach of the shower’s spray. Her chin quivered, which sucker punched him so hard he almost caved and hauled her back to him again.

Then her jaw jutted and she yanked the clothes from his hands. She jerked the top over her head, tugging the hem over her hips. “If you feel so strongly about this, why haven’t you just gotten a vasectomy?”

Her question stunned him almost as much as the fierce anger in her hissed words. “I realize you’re upset, but the last thing we need right now is to fight with each other.”

“Why would you think we’re going to argue?” She stepped into the pants, her hands jerky, angry. “We never quarrel. Ever.”

She whipped aside the curtain and stormed out, leaving him standing in waterlogged clothes. He should be pissed off, but he was still so shocked by what she’d said he didn’t move. Why hadn’t he gotten a vasectomy?

And why hadn’t she ever mentioned it before, unless she was secretly hoping he would change his mind on not having biological children?

“Dude?” an impatient voice cut through his thoughts.

A soldier covered in mud stood waiting, looking every bit as exhausted as Aiden felt.

“Sorry.” Aiden picked up his gun and glasses.

“Yeah, well, as long as you left some warm water in there.” He stepped back for Aiden to walk out, water squishing from his shoes. “Your lady went that way, toward the chow hall.”

The soldier slid into the shower. Aiden looked at the food tent, then toward the bunks where he and Lisabeth had side-by-side cots in a warehouse full of rescue workers. He didn’t even have to think twice about where he had to be right now to keep his sanity.

Aiden made tracks back toward the church, to the waiting patients.

***

Moonlight glinting off the rolling waves, Amelia rinsed her face and hands in the surf while Hugh constructed a lean-to for them to sleep under for the night. She’d offered to help, but he’d said he could work faster on his own if she would keep an eye on the kid.

Joshua was toddling in hyper circles in the sand, glad to be walking after a day constrained. Hugh had wrapped the child’s feet in leaves from banana trees to protect his soles. His diaper had been soaked, so she’d washed it and his tiny T-shirt in the ocean and draped them over a stretch of limestone to dry. There was something so endearingly innocent about a naked baby splashing in a little tide pool.

The day with Hugh had been so surreal—the fight in the van, the trek through the jungle, and now setting up a site for them to sleep together like some family on a camping trip. Except they weren’t a family. This wasn’t her child. Although right now he looked so heartbreakingly happy and perfect, her chest hurt over the dreams she’d once stored up about having babies.

Her eyes tracked back to Hugh. He spread foliage on top, mostly more banana leaves. He’d called the structure a hide site, designed more for evading than comfort, in case Oliver’s people decided to come after them.

Joshua toddled over to the small camp. Amelia pushed to her feet, her body creaking with exhaustion as she trudged across the sand. “Joshua? Come back here, sweetie.”

While Hugh had carried the child all day, there was no missing how uncomfortable he was around the boy.

Joshua clapped his hands, babbling and pointing.

Hugh frowned, reaching into a small pile of fruit he’d gathered. “Are you hungry? Banana? Is that what you want, kid?”