Honor Reclaimed (HORNET #2)

Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

The next time Phoebe woke, she was warm. Cozy, wrapped up in blankets and the leather and spice scent of a familiar male. Safe in the embrace of strong arms holding her close to a hard chest. Under her ear, a heart thrummed slow and steady, lulling her back to sleep.

Seth had her. She was okay now. They’d both be okay.

When she woke again, the bed was empty, but she sensed a presence in the room with her. Not Seth. Somehow, she knew that instinctively before she opened her eyes. Still, it wasn’t a stranger.

She turned her head on the pillow and found Ian seated on the floor, knees bent, back against the wall. His right hand rested in the scruff of the dog that had saved her.

Tank, she remembered naming him. Tank the Wonder Dog.

Ian glanced at her and for the first time she saw something other than a scowl or a sneer on his lean face. One side of his mouth kicked up and those nearly black eyes of his, usually so full of anger, softened.

“Hey,” he said and got to his feet. Tank did, too, and stayed right on his heels, looking up at him adoringly like he was the most wonderful man in the world. And maybe he wasn’t the most wonderful, but dogs were known to be good judges of character so he couldn’t be all bad, right?

Phoebe pushed herself upright as he crossed to stand beside her bed. Tank put his big paws up on the mattress, but then glanced toward Ian as if asking permission. Ian whistled between his teeth and motioned toward the bed. The dog’s tail wagged and he hopped up. He laid down and inched forward until his nose touched her arm. The dog looked clean now, healthy and happy. Ian must have bathed him.

Smiling, she rubbed his head. “I owe you a kiss, Tank.” She rocked back in surprise at the croaking sound that came out of her mouth. Was that her voice? Holy crap, she sounded horrible and tried to clear her sore throat.

Without being asked, Ian crossed the room to a pack on the floor—Seth’s—and found a bottle of water in one of the pockets. He even twisted off the cap before handing it to her.

Oh God, the water tasted amazing. It wasn’t cold, but she didn’t care and drank half the bottle in one breath.

“Tank?” he asked.

She nodded and wiped a hand over her mouth. “That’s what I called him.”

“I like it.”

She handed the water back. “He seems to like you.”

“Yeah, stupid mutt.” There was a faint hint of affection in his voice as he recapped the bottle and set it aside. He gave the dog’s ear a scratch. “I tried to shove him off on the villagers but he won’t stay with them. Doesn’t know what’s good for him, obviously.”

Tank’s tail thumped against her leg and he nuzzled her arm. She lifted her hand and he wiggled closer. “He’s not stupid. He’s loyal.”

“Yes,” Ian agreed. “He is.”

They both stared at the dog for several long seconds until Ian shifted around uncomfortably on his feet. “I’ll go find Seth. He didn’t want to leave you, but that prick Jesse forced him to get some food. He hasn’t touched anything since we found you.”

Since they found her? Oh boy, that didn’t sound good. “How long have I been out?”

“Most of the day. And while Jesse’s an asshole, he had a point. Seth has to eat something, keep his strength up. We’re hiking outta here tomorrow first thing.”

“Where are we?”

“Back in Akhgar, but the villagers are starting to make noises about us overstaying our welcome and Zak is doing well enough to make the trip.”

“You found Zak Hendricks?”

“Seth did.” He hesitated. “We also found the missing villagers. They were all dead except for a young woman—her name’s Darya—and her son. Do you think the shelter in Kabul will accept them?”

Darya was alive? Oh, thank God. Phoebe’s throat closed up even as relief left her feeling shaky. “Zina won’t turn them away. They’re Tehani’s family.”

Ian nodded. “Good.”

“I’d like to see them.”

“They’re safe and you should probably rest some more. We have a long hike out.”

“Ian,” she called as he told the dog to stay and turned toward the door. “Why don’t you get along with anyone? Seth, Jesse. The only two guys you seem to tolerate are Gabe and Quinn.”

“I’m not here to make friends.”

“Why are you here?”

His hand, resting on the door frame, tightened until his knuckles whitened from the pressure. He stayed silent for so long, she didn’t think he’d answer. Then he glanced over his shoulder and in his dark eyes, she saw depths of despair she couldn’t begin to fathom.

“Because I don’t have a choice.”

Seth ran into Jesse leaving the bedroom as he hurried in with his hair still dripping from his quick bath in the nearby river. “How is she? Is she okay?”

“She’s just fine,” Jesse said. He looked exhausted, but between taking care of Phoebe and Zak, he had every right to be. “She’s bruised up and sore, but honestly, she’s a million times better than we could’ve hoped for. She got lucky.”

“Thank you.”

Jesse gave him a tired smile and clapped him on the shoulder before heading back out to the main room.

Seth waited a beat before pushing open the bedroom door, taking time to smooth down his wet hair and straighten his clothes.

Phoebe sat up in bed with the dog’s head on her lap. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Seth crossed to her side and momentarily wished he’d brought along a treat—the dog deserved hundreds of treats every day for the rest of his life. Without him and Ian’s quick thinking, she probably would have died buried under the house.

But she hadn’t died. And, dammit, he wasn’t going to get hung up on all the shoulda, woulda, couldas of the past. She was here now, in this moment. With him. Safe.

He sat on the edge of the mattress, examining every inch of her face. Even though Jesse had just assured him her injuries weren’t serious, he wanted to hear the words from her lips. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Seth. I could really use a bath, though.” When she smiled, the spring of tension wound so tightly inside him finally uncoiled and he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. She did need a bath—despite his efforts with a package of wet wipes while she slept, the scent of mud still clung to her, covering the sweet-citrus tang he’d come to associate with her.

Phoebe lifted a hand and stroked his cheek, and he suddenly realized he hadn’t shaved in… Shit. Well over a week. The stubble had to hurt her abraded skin.

He backed away, found her hand with his own, and entwined their fingers. “Would you like help with your bath?” Her eyes widened, and, dammit, he was screwing this all up, wasn’t he? “Er, I mean, if you’re not comfortable, I can find a woman from the village to?—”

She shook her head. “I want you.”

Seth didn’t miss the double meaning packed in those three words but chose to ignore them. For now. He’d come to realize something was happening between them, whether he was ready to give up the past or not.

No more shoulda, woulda, couldas.

What he felt for Phoebe ran deep, like an ache in his blood, and it scared the living hell out of him. Here was this amazing, courageous, beautiful woman, who wanted him despite his scars, despite his sometimes shaky mental stability, and even despite his tendency to be a complete asshole.

Which reminded him…

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry for what I said to you last time we were alone together in this room. It was a low blow, and I—I’m ashamed of myself for it.”

She untangled her fingers from his and reached to cup his cheeks in her palms again. He jerked away before she made contact. “Don’t. I haven’t shaved. You’ll hurt your hands.”

She snorted and clasped his face anyway, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his lower lip. “You are such a silly man sometimes.”

“I know what I said hurt you.”

“Doesn’t matter now.”

“It does. I didn’t intend to hurt you, but when I get all knotted up inside like I was that night, a bunch of shit comes out of my mouth, and I push away everyone who means anything to me.”

Her hand dropped back to her side as if even that small motion exhausted her. “Is that what happened to your family? You pushed them away? I know you were close to them at one time. I saw the photo of them after they got the news of your rescue.”

That photo. It was one of those pictures seen around the world—his mom, dad, and sister on their knees in a sobbing embrace—and it killed him a little more every time it was published or broadcast. He’d put them through so much grief—and he was still doing it because, even two years later, he couldn’t work up the courage to go home.

He stared down at the dog, unable to look at her for the shame burning inside him. Of all the things he’d done wrong over the last several years, he most regretted the distance he’d put between himself and his family.

“Yes,” he admitted. “It’s my fault we don’t talk anymore. I couldn’t stand their pity, their worry. It just—” He sighed. Searched for a way to explain. “It wore on me until it was easier to move away and avoid their calls. Then they stopped calling as much. I’ll still get one every few weeks, but it’s always awkward, like they don’t know what to say to me. And I have no fucking clue what to say to them. So we make small talk for a few minutes and that’s that.”

“Seth.” Her voice was little more than a whisper and he finally sucked it up and met her gaze. She closed the distance between them and brushed her lips over his. “ Nothing you say is going to push me away. So when you need to, throw your worst at me. I’m not going anywhere. Except,” she added and a slow, sexy smiled crossed her lips, “into the bath.”

He hated to burst her bubble. “There’s no running water here.”

With a groan, she flopped back to the mattress. “Oh, not fair. I was so looking forward to soaking in a tub of hot water. I ache everywhere.”

Damn this village and its lack of civilized amenities. He hated the thought of her hurting in any way—which reminded him of the massage she’d given him last time they were here and a light bulb went on in his head.

He leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Give me a few minutes. I have an idea.”

It took longer to gather the supplies than he’d anticipated and when he got back to the room, he found her sound asleep, her arms wrapped around Tank, who was perfectly content being her cuddle buddy.

Ian had once called him window-licking insane and yeah, he must be because, right now, he was envious of a dog.

He whistled softly. Tank ignored him. He whistled again, louder, and the dog gave an annoyed harrumph before wiggling out of her arms and plodding from the room.

“Go find Ian,” Seth told him and shut the door on his sad puppy eyes.

When he turned, he caught Phoebe smiling sleepily at him. “You must be made of ice to resist that pathetic face.”

“Nope. Just determined to give you a soothing bath.”

Her eyes brightened. “You found me a bath?”

“Uh…sorta.” He crossed to the heavy pot of warm water he’d set on the floor beside the bed and picked up a sponge.

Phoebe laughed. “You’re going to give me a sponge bath?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice going raspy despite his best efforts to stop it. “I am.”

“Well, what about you? Can I give you a bath?”

His throat worked as he swallowed hard. “I, uh, jumped in the river and washed up earlier.”

“Oh my God. The river? Wasn’t that cold?”

“Freezing.” He reached down and tugged on the hem of her shirt. “Do you need help with your clothes?”

“Hmm, yes.” A dreamy smile played over her lips. “I think so.”

Seth swallowed hard and sat down beside her to help pull her borrowed tunic off over her head. Don’t stare, he told himself. Don’t stare. Don’t?—

Oh, fuck. Her nipples stood out through the material of her bra, practically begging for his mouth. He wanted to yank the cups down and see those rosy peaks again. Wanted his mouth on them and, this time, he wouldn’t let himself get all tied up inside.

With trembling hands, he untied the waist of her baggy Afghan pants. “Lift up.”

She complied, raising her hips in a suggestive way that all but screamed, “Sex! Want! Now!”

No. Not going there. He shut down that dangerous line of thought and slowly drew the material down her legs. Then there she lay, wearing only a half-transparent bra and panties. And all but stripping him with her eyes.

All right. He could do this and be a gentleman about it.

Hah. Right. Says the guy with every drop of his blood rushing south.

This wasn’t about sex. It was all about helping her feel better and he planned to return the favor of her massage to soothe her aches and pains. Sure, he wouldn’t be as good at it as she’d been. His hands were rough and his touch nowhere in the same ballpark as gentle, but he’d try. And if he could work even one knot of tension out of her, he’d call it a win.

Except, now that he saw the extent of her injuries, maybe a massage wasn’t such a good idea. Bright purple and black bruises streaked her ribcage, dotted her arms and legs.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, gently brushing his fingers along her ribs. “Jesus, look at you.”

“It doesn’t hurt. Jesse gave me something. Actually, I’m feeling pretty good right now.” She dragged a finger down the front of his chest. “And you’re still wearing too many clothes.”

He jerked back. A gentleman. He had to be a gentleman. Especially now that he knew Jesse had given her something for the pain, something that had obviously knocked her for a loop. He wasn’t about to take advantage of her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up before this water goes cold.”