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Authors: Lindsay McKenna
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little interface with the 80th except to hitch a ride on one of their MH-47 helicopters.
He finished his MRE and stood up. He had an idea, maybe something that could divert Leahâs attention to something a little more positive. He walked over and picked up her uneaten MRE. She was pale, agitation in her eyes. Kell could feel the terror around her, even though she didnât say anything.
Going to the other cave, he picked up a large aluminum bowl, found some unscented shampoo he kept for whenever he got a chance to wash up on a sniping mission, and brought it back to the other cave. Going over to the pool, he got fresh, cold water by holding the huge bowl over the drips coming off from the rocks above.
Leah frowned as he brought the bowl of water over and set it nearby. âWhatâs that for?â She met his gray eyes and felt some of her terror dissolve. That powerful sense of protection wrapped around her with just Ballardâs kind gaze.
âI think youâll feel better if you can at least get your hair washed.â Kell set up the other sleeping bag, rolling it out and putting his ruck where a pillow would have been.
âBut...I canât wash my hair,â Leah said, longing badly to get the dirt off her scalp, get rid of the dried blood so sheâd stop smelling it. âI only have one hand.â
âIâll do the washing,â Kell told her. Holding out his hand, he said, âCome on, I have to move you over here. I want you to lie down on your back and let your head hang over the end of my ruck.â
Leah sat there, stunned. He was serious. Her heart opened, catching her off guard. âButââ
âWhen my grandma Inez was alive, I used to wash her hair once a week. I was a kid, only thirteen, but I usually did a pretty good job. She was happy with my efforts and my mother was relieved I didnât dump the water all over her bed.â Kell gave a bashful grin. âIâm not a hairdresser, but I am pretty good at washing a womanâs hair. Want to give it a whirl? Live dangerously?â
Leah stared at his long fingers, seeing the calluses on them, the width of his palm, the inherent strength of him as a man. Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his. Fingers warm and strong around hers, Kell easily lifted her to her feet. Dizziness struck Leah big-time and she felt herself pitching forward.
âI got you,â Kell rasped, placing his arm around her waist and holding her upright. âA little walking is going to be good for you, anyway. It will force your brain to get back to normal quicker.â
Leahâs mouth went dry. She was plastered against Kellâs body, felt the hardness of his muscles, his stability and strength. Her heart was tripping all over itself. Overwhelmed with too much going on, she simply surrendered to Kell and let him slowly guide her over to the other sleeping bag.
He handled her as if she were a feather in his arms and she knew she wasnât. The manâs strength was hidden, but she felt it now as he lowered her to the floor.
Closing her eyes for a moment, Leah wanted to cry. The tears came out of nowhere. Kell was being incredibly gentle with her. As if she were a rare vase that might shatter between his hands if he wasnât careful enough with her. Compared to Haydenâs heavy-handedness, his need to hurt her, make her scream for mercy, Kell was the exact opposite.
Somehow, Leah forced back the tears as Kell guided her shoulders onto the ruck, making sure she was comfortable. The difference was pulverizing. Eye-opening.
CHAPTER FOUR
âT HIS IS VERY cold water,â Kell warned her, settling the bowl between his knees and sliding his fingers through Leahâs thick, tangled hair.
âItâs okay. Iâm just so glad youâre going to get the blood out of my hair. The smell is terrible.â Leah bit back a gasp over the pleasure of his fingers sifting through her strands. It was
He finished his MRE and stood up. He had an idea, maybe something that could divert Leahâs attention to something a little more positive. He walked over and picked up her uneaten MRE. She was pale, agitation in her eyes. Kell could feel the terror around her, even though she didnât say anything.
Going to the other cave, he picked up a large aluminum bowl, found some unscented shampoo he kept for whenever he got a chance to wash up on a sniping mission, and brought it back to the other cave. Going over to the pool, he got fresh, cold water by holding the huge bowl over the drips coming off from the rocks above.
Leah frowned as he brought the bowl of water over and set it nearby. âWhatâs that for?â She met his gray eyes and felt some of her terror dissolve. That powerful sense of protection wrapped around her with just Ballardâs kind gaze.
âI think youâll feel better if you can at least get your hair washed.â Kell set up the other sleeping bag, rolling it out and putting his ruck where a pillow would have been.
âBut...I canât wash my hair,â Leah said, longing badly to get the dirt off her scalp, get rid of the dried blood so sheâd stop smelling it. âI only have one hand.â
âIâll do the washing,â Kell told her. Holding out his hand, he said, âCome on, I have to move you over here. I want you to lie down on your back and let your head hang over the end of my ruck.â
Leah sat there, stunned. He was serious. Her heart opened, catching her off guard. âButââ
âWhen my grandma Inez was alive, I used to wash her hair once a week. I was a kid, only thirteen, but I usually did a pretty good job. She was happy with my efforts and my mother was relieved I didnât dump the water all over her bed.â Kell gave a bashful grin. âIâm not a hairdresser, but I am pretty good at washing a womanâs hair. Want to give it a whirl? Live dangerously?â
Leah stared at his long fingers, seeing the calluses on them, the width of his palm, the inherent strength of him as a man. Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his. Fingers warm and strong around hers, Kell easily lifted her to her feet. Dizziness struck Leah big-time and she felt herself pitching forward.
âI got you,â Kell rasped, placing his arm around her waist and holding her upright. âA little walking is going to be good for you, anyway. It will force your brain to get back to normal quicker.â
Leahâs mouth went dry. She was plastered against Kellâs body, felt the hardness of his muscles, his stability and strength. Her heart was tripping all over itself. Overwhelmed with too much going on, she simply surrendered to Kell and let him slowly guide her over to the other sleeping bag.
He handled her as if she were a feather in his arms and she knew she wasnât. The manâs strength was hidden, but she felt it now as he lowered her to the floor.
Closing her eyes for a moment, Leah wanted to cry. The tears came out of nowhere. Kell was being incredibly gentle with her. As if she were a rare vase that might shatter between his hands if he wasnât careful enough with her. Compared to Haydenâs heavy-handedness, his need to hurt her, make her scream for mercy, Kell was the exact opposite.
Somehow, Leah forced back the tears as Kell guided her shoulders onto the ruck, making sure she was comfortable. The difference was pulverizing. Eye-opening.
CHAPTER FOUR
âT HIS IS VERY cold water,â Kell warned her, settling the bowl between his knees and sliding his fingers through Leahâs thick, tangled hair.
âItâs okay. Iâm just so glad youâre going to get the blood out of my hair. The smell is terrible.â Leah bit back a gasp over the pleasure of his fingers sifting through her strands. It was
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