Closing his eyes, he saw Sloan leap out of the office, weapon drawn, her full, undivided focus on Ansari as he rounded the corner with an AK-47 in his hands, murder, and hatred in his dark eyes. Sloan had walked with such purpose, and concentration toward Ansari, Glock in both hands, fearless—and that had scared the hell out of Dan.
There were so many feelings writhing through him right now; it was impossible to sort them all out and make any sense of them. He’d feared for Sloan’s life. He was shocked by her courage in the situation, facing Ansari down with that grim, hard look on her face. He had no training for ground war so when he found his Glock, all Dan wanted to do was protect Sloan. As he raced out of the office yelling at Samiah to stay down, he caught the two mechanics running out the other end of the hangar to save themselves. He remembered thinking that at least Malusi and Rauf would live to go home to their wives and children.
He felt things for Sloan he’d never felt for anyone in his life. Dan lay there, eyes closed, his palm over his gowned chest, feeling the heavy thud of his heart. Sloan. Jesus, what kind of balls did the woman have on her? She never flinched. She didn’t react. She just kept calmly walking toward the killer, methodically firing her pistol. The courage she had stunned him.
Opening his eyes, Dan felt lost and directionless. He didn’t feel good about himself. Those four years began to unravel in his mind, his brain dumping more memories. He had never expected to see Sloan again. But by luck, Providence, or some sick cosmic joke, she had walked into his life once more. And after getting over the shock of her showing up, he could feel his entire heart go into crash mode. Right now, he needed her.
He dozed then, the pain medication dripping into the IV in one of his arms, easing him out of the conundrum of emotions writhing in his chest.
*
Sloan slipped into Dan’s hospital room, a large bag in her left hand. It was dinner time and snowing outside, the flakes melting on her black nylon coat, making wet spots all over it. Her heart pounded with anxiety. Would Dan come home with her or not? She’d devised a plan with Tal’s help, and it was a good one. Dan awakened as she closed the door.
“Hey,” she called softly, “how are you feeling?” She brought the bag over and set it on the rolling tray.
“Missing you,” he muttered thickly, feeling drowsy and fighting the drug haze. “Where have you been?”
Sloan smiled a little, shrugged out of her jacket, and hung it across one of the chairs in the room. She fluffed her sable hair, the ends damp. “Getting my house in order,” she murmured. “I hate housecleaning, but I don’t know a woman who doesn’t.” She walked over to him, seeing darkness in his eyes. He looked depressed. She slipped her hand into his. “It’s a home now. And I did something for you. I made you dinner.” She pointed toward the large sack on the tray. “The docs said you could start eating solid food today, so I thought a home-cooked meal might make you smile.”
Sloan was wearing a bright red long-sleeved sweater and jeans. They hugged her body beautifully and in all the right places. Her hair was down and framing her face; her cheeks pink from the cold. “That sounds too good to be true. I’ve hated the Jell-O and mush they’ve been giving me.”
She chuckled. “Yeah,” she deadpanned, “I heard you gripe about it every day. Remember?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice rough with sleep, “I haven’t been exactly PC about being imprisoned in this bed.”
Sloan moved the bag and set it on the side of his bed. “Maybe this will cheer you up? I made a pot roast with potatoes, carrots, celery, and some gravy. Does that sound good to you?”
“Sure does. I didn’t know you were a hausfrau.” He gave her a crooked grin.
“I’m many things,” she told him enigmatically. Drawing out a plastic plate and several containers, Sloan lined them up on the tray she’d pulled beside his bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Less pain.”
“Good. The doctors said you’re healing fast, Dan. And that’s a good sign, too.”
“I’d like to get the hell out of this room. I hate hospitals,” he grumped, eyeing the food that she placed on the plate. His mouth salivated as the odors permeated the room. His stomach growled. Sloan looked up, grinning at him.
“No secrets to you, are there?”
“No,” he said, “none. This smells great.” He suddenly became serious, reached over, and grazed her cheek with his fingers. “Thank you for this. I know you didn’t have to do it. And it smells so damned good compared to the hospital food I’ve been choking down.”
Struggling to keep things light, she put her dinner on the second plate she’d brought along. “Things will get better by degrees,” she told him quietly. Placing the emptied sack on the floor, Sloan pulled over a chair and sat down next to Dan’s bed, facing him. “Go ahead, eat,” she urged.
As good as the food smelled, it tasted even better to Dan. “This is good,” he said between bites. “Thanks for doing this.” In no time, he had his plate cleaned up. “Is there seconds?” he asked hopefully, eyeing the sack on the floor.
Sloan chuckled. “No. I made enough for just you and me. The rest is back home. I wasn’t sure how hungry you would be, Dan.”
He pushed the tray aside. “Your food makes me hungry,” he admitted.
Sloan stopped eating, her hands around the plate in her lap. “Dan? You know that in about two more days they’re going to release you and you can go back to your condo. Would you rather come to my house for a while? I could cook for you. I think getting good food made with love into you will help you bounce back more quickly.” She held his thoughtful expression. “How do you feel about that?” she asked, holding her breath, hoping against hope he’d come and stay with her. It had been Alexa, Tal’s younger sister, who suggested that she cook a meal for Dan to lure him to her home—after all, the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. They all got a huge laugh over that, but it was true. Now, Sloan tried to appear relaxed as if she’d offhandedly suggested the idea to him.
She watched him look away as if digesting the idea. “The doc told me I’d need twenty-four-hour care once I got back to my place, Sloan.”
“Yes, you will. I’d be happy to do it for you at my house. I’m a combat medic, and I don’t think anyone can take care of you as good as I can.” She kept her voice light and teasing, not wanting Dan to know just how badly she wanted him to come home with her.
“It’s an idea,” he muttered. “But that will tie you down. You’ll have to cook for me all the time.”
Shrugging, she forced herself to finish off her food. “I have to cook for one, anyway. Cooking for two is actually easier. I don’t see that as a hurdle we have to jump. Do you?”
“I’ve been at my condo so rarely I hardly remember what it looks like,” Dan admitted.
“I have a lovely, small home. It’s out in nature, surrounded by trees and woodlands. It’s fifteen miles from Artemis. I think you’d like it. I have a herd of deer that come across the lawn at dawn and dusk every day. It’s peaceful.”
“My dad,” he began haltingly, “isn’t in a position to help me.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I called him earlier today,” Dan admitted, shaking his head. “He’s not the man he used to be. A faint copy of his old self. He knows I’ll need help recovering and I asked if he could do it.” His voice dropped. “He said no, and I understand why. He still works for that meat-packing company, and he’s not home a lot anymore. He eats out. He never stays home if he doesn’t have to.”
Her heart broke for Dan. “I’m sure he wants you there but taking care of someone in your condition is sometimes seen as an impossible burden to others.”
Rubbing his jaw, he said, “My dad and I have been estranged since I was nine. I didn’t expect him to say yes.”
“But if you reached out to him, that means you really don’t want to be at your place with nursing help.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, mouth quirking.
“My offer is still open. You know me, Dan, and I’m medically qualified to be there for you. I know how much you like to watch football games. There’s a flat-screen TV in the guest bedroom at my house.”
“That sounds good,” he admitted.