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For just this moment before she discovered him, Nik hungrily absorbed Daria. Yes, he saw the Marine in her, each of her movements precise and smooth. The feminine side of her, however, was equally strong, from the curve of her breasts beneath the yellow material of her blouse, to the flare of her womanly hips astride those long legs he wanted to explore inch by inch. He absorbed her profile, clean, soft and nonthreatening. He wondered what the toll on her in the military had really been all those years. Nik knew there was always heavy payment for jobs like hers and his. Daria hid it well. Where did it spill out? What would trigger all those emotions she kept from public scrutiny? He was desperate to know her on a much more intimate level.
“The coffee smells good,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her.
Daria lifted her head and turned, smiling over at him. “It does, doesn’t it? It’s almost ready.” She picked up the plates. “Here, put these on the table? I thought you might like a few cookies. We worked hard out there today. A little reward.”
He took the plates, their fingers briefly touching. Agony of another type raked his lower body. Right now, he was seeing Daria relaxed. She was no longer as tense or as on guard as she had been earlier. Understanding that she felt safe in this apartment, Nik knew she shouldn’t feel safe around him. He was a starving wolf without a mate, lacking the warmth of his woman. As he walked to the table and set the plates down, he heard her open a cupboard and take down two mugs.
“Cream? Sugar?” he asked, ambling into the kitchen proper.
“Yes,” and she pointed to the small refrigerator. “Thank you. How about you?”
“Depends if the coffee is good or not,” he said, opening the fridge and taking out the small bottle of cream. “If the coffee is good, I like it black. If it’s made weak or the beans are burnt-tasting, then I will smother it with cream and sugar.” He grinned over at her as she poured their coffee. For a split second, Nik dreamed that they were married, having coffee as a couple, simply enjoying one another’s company and thoughts. He sadly pushed those dreams away. His was a life destined to be about suffering loss, heavy responsibility, and nonstop service. Daria allowed him to dream. And the dream was so beautiful that Nik almost wanted to cry inwardly, knowing she would never be within his reach. His life was at risk all the time. One wrong move with Korsak, and he’d have a bullet through his head.
He took the bowl of sugar and carried it to the table. As Daria brought the mugs over, he pulled back the chair for her.
“Thanks,” she said, placing a mug to her right.
Nik sat down, their elbows nearly touching. Their knees brushed against each other and he reluctantly shifted away so that it gave her room. Above all, he didn’t want Daria feeling as if he were stalking her. She didn’t seem to mind, but Nik wanted no mixed signals between them. He tasted the coffee and made a sound in his throat. “This is good coffee.”
“It is,” she agreed.
“Are you feeling better now that we’re indoors and away from Brudin’s prying eyes?”
She sighed and gave him a look of concern. “Yes, more than you know. I’ve decided that I never want to do undercover work again. I’m so used to being myself. It’s hard for me to play a part. I’ve always been an upfront kind of woman. I keep having to self-censor my thoughts, what I was about to say, and then splice in what I need to say as a botanist.” Her mouth curved down. “I really hate it, Nik. I’d much rather be myself.”
“Tell me more? I saw that you were slightly favoring your left leg of the trail. And earlier, when the towel was wrapped around you, I saw what looked like fresh new scars on your left thigh?” He saw her eyes grow hooded and felt an instant shield suddenly rise between them. What was that all about? What had he said?
Daria sat her coffee down, her hands sliding around the mug, staring at it for a long moment. “It’s a pretty gruesome episode in my life, Nik. I don’t know if I’m ready to tell anyone about it yet,” and she gave him a look of apology.
“No worries,” he soothed, nodding. So, it had happened in combat. His senses were well-honed and sometimes, Nik thought he was almost psychic. The anguish that suddenly came to her eyes slammed into him like a rogue wave. He heard an almost imperceptible tremor in her low, strained voice. Even more, he felt the terror, the grief and trauma that still lived, alive and well, within Daria. Nik understood how that all worked because he also held so much of it within him as a soldier and medic. He reached out, moving his fingers down her lower arm in a gesture to try and calm some of the sudden storm he felt swirling invisibly within her. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. What would you like to talk about?”
Daria mustered a weak grimace. “You’re right about my legs. You’re pretty observant. The docs gave me an okay to go back into the field, but today out on that steep trail, I guess it’s not as fully healed as I’d wished.”
“Are you in pain, Daria? I can give you something for it.” He wasn’t a medic for nothing. It was his job to not allow her to suffer, if he could help it.
“No… it’s just stiff… ouchy. I’ve got aspirin if I need it, but I think I’ll be fine now. The hot water of the shower really helped and sitting down, resting, I’ll be okay.”
“If you would allow me?” He lifted his hands. “They looked to me to be knife wounds. I know what that does to muscle tissue. I could massage that area very gently and I guarantee you that your leg will feel so much better than before. Let me at least do that for you? I’m in medic mode now,” and he gave her a faint smile, never wanting anything more than to do this for Daria. He could see the pain in her eyes now, and he’d noticed it before out on the trail, but he hadn’t put both together until just now.
Daria sighed and rolled her eyes. “A massage? I’dloveone! It’s the first thing I do when I get back off an op! Head for my favorite masseuse that lives near our HQ. Are you sure? We could do it after we finish our coffee?”
“Yes, whatever you are comfortable with.” The idea of getting to touch her even in a healing way, thundered through Nik. His lower body flexed with possibility. No, this wasn’t about sex. It was about helping Daria relieve some of the stiffness that he knew always occurred from a knife wound. They were the worst injuries to heal through because the muscles were usually sliced and then having to sew them together once more only added to the physical trauma. He’d seen his fair share of them because Russian terrorists were knife wielders like the Taliban. He saw Daria yearning to get that massage, but also hesitant about it. “I will be very careful. I promise, this is about healing, nothing else.” Because Nik didn’t want her to think it was a way to get his hands on her. His offer had been pure of heart. And he would keep it that way. The longing in her expression made him warm, his heart opening. “Even the Quechua villagers allow me to work on them with massage. Some of the older men and women have very bad arthritis in their joints, in their hands. I’m able to soothe their pain, get the muscles to move, and coax the painful parts to relax.”
Daria regarded him from beneath her lashes. “I’ll bet they love to see you coming into their village, then.”
It was his turn to wince. “They love to see me. They fear the rest of the team I’m with, for good reason,” was all he’d say. Just as Daria didn’t want to discuss her combat wounds, he did not want to get into Korsak’s brutality towards the Indians.
Drawing in a breath he said, “Are you game?” and he held up his hands. “See what I can do to maybe get some blood and circulation into that area? One massage can last for days and it’s very helpful to the entire healing process.”
“You’ve sold me, Nik. Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER 8
Daria laid downon one side of the bed so that Nik could easily work with her left thigh. She hadn’t thought about the towel she’d worn earlier showing those wounds until he’d mentioned it. He had brought a bottle of massage oil from his medical pack into the bedroom. The light was dim, the venetian blinds pulled. How she looked forward to his touch as she settled onto her back. Already, her body was anticipating his hands upon her.
Nik set the bottle on the bed stand. He walked around to the other side of the bed and took the second pillow, bringing it back around to where she lay. “We need to put this beneath your knees. It takes the stress off your lower back.” As she lifted her knees, he slid it in under them. Daria had left him ample room on one side of the bed to sit down facing her. He opened the bottle, pouring some of the oil onto the palm of one hand.
“My hands are rough-feeling,” he warned her as he rubbed the oil between them.
