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Nik halted inches from Daria. She was shaking, her arms tight around her torso as if to gird herself against something unseen. Something terrible. He raised his hands and they hovered momentarily over her hunched shoulders. The need to help her was overriding. Something had happened in the bedroom. And he thought he had some idea of what it was, but wasn’t sure. He allowed his hands to rest lightly on her shoulders. She stiffened. He heard her gasp. Did Daria want his help or not? Nik was unsure, but wasn’t going to back off from her unless she told him to. And then, he would.
“Daria,” he whispered, gently pulling her against his body, his lips near her ear. “I’m here. I know I can help you. Please?” Nik felt her shudder, heard a choking sound in her throat, her hands flying to her face.
She didn’t pull away from him.
Gently, Nik turned her around, keeping her close, allowingherto decide how near or not she wanted to be, his hands back on her shoulders. He saw the steaks of tears running down her cheeks, her eyes tightly shut, her hands against the sides of her face. He saw how hard she was fighting to stop the tears. She was battling so much, all on her own. It didn’t need to be that way. They had one another. He felt so on a visceral level. Daria was entrusting her vulnerable self to him right now and Nik felt the monumental decision she’d just made to allow herself to do so. He felt her struggling with so much that was invisible to him. He understood intuitively that his massaging of her knife wounds had ripped the door open on that whole, sordid moment of her life. Gently, he threaded his fingers through her hair.
“Talk to me?” he urged her quietly, watching her eyes open barely, awash with tears, agony within them.
Daria reached out, placing her hands against Nik’s chest. He continued to stroke her hair as if she were a lost, hurting child so badly in need of just that. Just his healing touch. Hot tears streamed down her drawn cheeks, and an explosive sob burst its way unwillingly up and out of her.
“Come here,” he rasped, drawing her deeply into his arms, holding her tight against him. Cupping her head, he held her, feeling her trembling as if an earthquake was about to erupt from deep within her. How many times had he seen this reaction before? Nik closed his eyes, his head resting gently against hers, allowing Daria to sag fully against him, holding her safe, holding her while that terrible storm overcame the massive control needed to contain it. “It’s all right, Daria. Let it go? I’m here. I’ll hold you through it,moya kotya…”
He felt another giant sob wrack like a tsunami wave up through her, and Daria slid her arms around his waist, leaning into him, burying her face deeply against his shirt, trying to hide as the sounds unwillingly kept ripping out of her. Nik knew he needed to remain quiet and strong for her as she shook and sobbed in his arms. He couldn’t fix what was wrong within her. But he could stroke her hair, move his hand caressingly up and down her back. He knew the value of touch, of holding. The agony he felt in his heart for her, not wanting to see her so damaged and anguished, lacerated him. Nik wished he could absorb Daria’s pain and loss and grief, but he knew he couldn’t. All he could do was give her safe harbor to release that toxic brew that lived like a prowling monster within her.Better out, than in.
Time dissolved, and all Nik was aware of was the warm, brave woman he held tenderly within his embrace. His shirt quickly became damp with her tears and she clung to him as if he were the last anchor in the world for her to grasp before she was forever lost. He understood. How many times had he wished he’d had a pair of loving arms to welcome and hold him when he was hurting so deeply? The scent of oranges from the shampoo she used in her hair complimented the sweeter, spicier scent of her flesh, calmed him, fed him in ways he couldn’t describe. Just getting to hold Daria, to know she trusted him with her worst fears and emotions, rocked his world in the best of ways.
If Nik had any questions about their mutual attraction, they were laid to rest right now. She was a Marine, as tough as they came from the US military. Nik knew that Daria had probably not cried since that horrific incident. It was just the way military personnel were taught and trained: keep your emotions boxed. Don’t cry. Don’t feel. Focus on your job. Nothing else matters because, if you get emotional, you can get distracted and get killed. Yes, he knew this verbatim. Had heard it a thousand times during boot camp in Spetsnaz so many years ago. They were right, of course. It worked for the unit, but the terrible price paid by the individual, by one who had seen and experienced accumulated traumas, terrible human atrocities that no one should ever see, always came up owing.
He pressed a chaste kiss to her hair, the strands tickling his lips, his nostrils flaring as he dragged in her scent, as if breathing life into himself for the first time in so many years. Daria’s sobs gradually lessened, her trembling slowly ebbed, and he could feel a slight loosening of her arms around his waist. The initial storm had expended itself and now, he knew she was going to feel exhausted in the aftermath of its passing. Easing her away just enough to see her face, he saw that it was pale and drawn. Her eyes were marred with anguish.
“Come with me? I want to lay next to you on the bed and just hold you, Daria. Nothing more. Sometimes,” and he nudged the strands of her hair sticking to her wet cheek away with his fingertips, “the best healing is simply to be held afterward.”
She lifted her hand, trying to wipe away some of the tears. “Y-yes…”
He smiled softly down at her, giving her a look of praise, and nodded. Opening his arms, Nik allowed her to lean against his side, an arm wrapped around her shoulders as he slowly guided her down the hall to the bedroom. He had no thought of sex in his head right now. Only to continue to give Daria that supporting enclosure she needed most to start healing internally from the trauma. She was wobbly on her feet and he held her firmly, letting her know silently that he had her. That she could trust him, continue to lean on him.
Daria felt as if someone had scrubbed the inside of her out with a wire bottle brush. She felt nothing but raw hurt piled upon endless grief as Nik helped her climb onto the bed. All she wanted right now was him. And when he came and laid his long body next to hers, sliding his arm beneath her neck, his other hand on her hip, drawing her next to him, Daria acquiesced without hesitation. Laying her head in the crook of his shoulder, nestling her face against Nik’s neck and jaw, her arm going around his torso, she felt him monitoring the strength with which he held her.
Closing her eyes, Daria released a ragged sigh, feeling safe. Feeling loved and deeply cared for. All those emotions flittered over the top of the grief and loss still roiling through her like a savage storm. She placed one leg over his, wanting his solidity, the quiet strength and heat he offered. Care radiated out of him like sunlight, enclosing her, holding her safe. Holding her forever. And that was the last thing Daria remembered thinking before the exhaustion, the toll of the months since the trauma, overwhelmed her. In Nik’s arms, Daria felt utterly protected. She could finally relax as never before, because he held her. And somewhere in the tumult of all the sharp-edged emotions raging through her, she felt his undeniable love and loyalty for her as she wafted into peaceful sleep.
Nik closed his eyes, his chin resting against her hair, feeling Daria completely surrender into his arms, her body sinking trustingly against his. His heart stirred with such deep feelings for her that it shook his soul. He’d never felt this way about a woman before. Daria was not a helpless woman, no bird with a broken wing floundering around. He’d pieced together enough to understand that four months ago she’d been attacked on an unnamed ridge while setting up a sniper op. Her spotter and her had been attacked by an undetected enemy and knives had been used. Most likely as to not alert anyone else in the area by firing off AK-47’s against their foe. It was a Taliban tactic. Stealth. Knives were their favorite weapon and they knew how to wield them. He had so many questions about her op. Did they get bad perishable intel? Had a Taliban mole pretending to be pro-US set them up? Similar cases had happened in Nik’s own experience with Russian separatists way too many times.
Sliding his arm gently against her back, fingers splayed out across her hips, keeping her close, Nik felt her soft, moist breath as it shallowed out, indicating to him that Daria had fallen asleep. Yes, after a storm like that, he’d be exhausted too. Something deep and hurting rose in him as his mind ran through all the grief that had occurred in his life. It felt like an endless string of such, and he wondered if it would ever end. If it ever did, it probably meant he was dead. Nik wanted to keep his focus on Dan, on getting his brother the medical help he needed. Nothing else had mattered. Not until Daria had stepped unexpectedly into his life. She mattered just as much now.
Nik slid his fingers through her drying hair, felt it sift and slide like the silk it was. Daria trusted him. And that stopped him from doing anything inappropriate. His lower body had flared to aching life as she had sunk against him, her hips lightly meeting his. They were only scant inches apart in height and he marveled at how Daria fit against him, as if they had always been meant to be together. She was soft in his arms, luscious, curved and feminine. He still had to shake himself sometimes because he knew she was military. The two concepts seemed juxtaposed. Her softness against his toughened body was the polar opposite of a hardened soldier. And nothing had ever felt so right to him as this moment did. Five years through a desert of no emotions had abruptly come to an end, and he felt nearly overwhelmed by the unexpected mission, need and hunger filtering through him.
Nik closed his eyes, allowing himself to truly relax. It wasn’t something he was able to do very often. Oh, he knew Brudin was probably still on watch detail outside the apartment, but that bastard wasn’t going to come busting in anytime soon either. No, they were as safe as they could hope to be and his body sagged deeply into the mattress as he absorbed Daria’s form against his. One of her hands was pillowed between them, its slender fingers slightly curled in sleep. Delicate, beautiful fingers. His heart ached for her, for the load she carried from that broken and devastating op. It would never be gone from her, and Nik knew that. All he could do is be an island where Daria could forget it for just a little while, round the vicious emotional edges off it, and give her a healing harbor of reprieve.
His heart and body sung about making love with her. It would be beautiful, he knew. Rich and lavish, because he knew how highly-tuned she was. A sniper lived on the edges of his or her senses. It was something no one spoke about but, sure as hell, that highly evolved intuition kept that sniper alive.
Nik visualized his fingers skimming across Daria’s naked body, feeling her respond, watching the look in her sultry eyes change, watching the heat and arousal rise to a crescendo as he explored her inside and out. He would worship every inch of her, absorb her sweetness, her womanliness, and luxuriate in the sighs and sounds that he would coax out of her. Nik wanted to hear her cry out as he stroked her. Wanted to ask her body to share those rare gifts to him. He knew a woman would not orgasm unless she truly trusted her partner. There had to be some kind of powerful emotional connection. And, more than anything, that invisible, yet unsaid, connection was alive and well between them. He felt it every time they were together. And now, it throbbed brilliantly with a life of its own, palpable, breathing, wanting, yearning within him.
Sleep claimed Nik gently as he held the woman in his arms that he knew he was falling in love with. Only, he knew he could never speak those words to Daria under these circumstances. But, if he had his way about it, he was going to get this woman not only into his arms as she was now, but love her until she fainted with pleasure. There were so many ways to express love to a woman and Nik wasn’t above using all of his experience to do just that for Daria. If anyone deserved love, it was her. It was true, he didn’t know her full story but, over time, he would coax it out of her. Being black ops, she wasn’t one to give up information about herself easily.
Daria trusted him with her most vulnerable self. She’d shown that to him just now. He would gently shield her, keep that small flame that had just sparked to life between them lit, and continue to give her this sense of safety. A fierceness rose in his heart. It was a mix of euphoria combined with terror. They lived on the edge of a scimitar every hour of every day. He’d just found a woman who endlessly and magically mesmerized him. And, more than anything, Nik was desperate to keep her safe and make the most of their time together.
CHAPTER 9
Nik slowly pulledhimself awake, Daria tucked against him, his arms still enfolding her. Strands of her hair grazed his nose and chin. He savored the quiet in the room, alone with her sleeping form, even though hecouldfaintly hear the muted pulse of drums and flutes down the hill below the apartment building. Celebration went on day and night in this tourist town, as if people were free of their inhibitions out here in the middle of nowhere in this godforsaken jungle. He noticed a birthmark, shaped like a quarter moon phase, behind her delicate left ear, something that had been partially hidden just beneath her hairline until now. Nik recalled glimpsing something there before but, because her hair had hidden it, he’d never fully seen it until now. Moving his fingers lightly across the tiny crimson crescent, he wanted to ask Daria about it. Birthmarks were DNA signatures passed on from parent to child. He had so many questions to ply her with. His soul ached to know her so much better than he currently did. He hungered like a starving man for that food she would share with him about herself.
Patience was the answer. Nik knew this could not be rushed, but for once, his patience was shortened considerably. Daria had reached down deep within him, unplugging that reservoir of restraint, artlessly holding his heart, skimming his weary soul with her strength, bravery and determination. She was a strong woman, no question, but at the same time, she could be vulnerable with him. That shook him more than anything else. What did she see in him that he didn’t see in himself? What had made Daria trust him from the gitgo? Did she have some insight into him that he himself did not? No other woman had grazed and awakened his heart as she had.
Nik had no explanation for it, but was grateful she’d stepped unexpectedly into his life. Now, she slept deeply. He had no wish to disturb her, and luxuriated in this moment that he had dreamed about but had never thought would happen. His five years of monk-like existence had finally come to an end. Just the feel of her soft, warm body next to his made his heart sing and his lower body flare and flood scaldingly to breathless life.
He had no idea what time it was until he lifted his arm and squinted at his wrist, looking at the dials on his military watch. It was 2100, ninep.m. He eased his hand down across her shoulder, feeling the inherent strength of her beneath the fabric, wanting badly to disrobe Daria and feel her velvet skin against his. Yet, Nik knew, because of his age and maturity, that that would be a foolish move on his part. If Daria did not come to him of her own accord, then there was nothing for them to explore. Perhaps all she needed was someone to feel safe with after that brutal op? Nik knew how a busted mission could play hell on one’s psyche. He’d experienced them himself. He’d been through the emotional and mental carnage that had destroyed him for months, even years, afterward. He understood all too clearly why so many soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan were committing suicide. They’d seen too much, obliterating chunks of their souls, unable to be held, to be heard, to entrust themselves to someone who understood the carnage they’d managed to survive up until the point where they’d made that final, terrible choice.
His fingers slid comfortingly down across Daria’s long back to her womanly hips. She was tall, medium-boned, and he knew she could easily carry a baby should she want motherhood. Wondering about that, what had pulled her into the Marine Corps? He couldn’t stop his curiosity that need to know so much more about her.
