“So we’re conserving that water again, huh?” she teased.
His cool mask quickly reverted to all heat. Okay. Maybe joking with him wasn’t the best course of action if they needed to make this a quick pit stop, but she couldn’t help it. She secretly hoped he’d take her up on the offer, which was ridiculous because they were in the middle of a jungle with God only knew how many men after them.
That’s how potent Rafael Ortega was. He’d lured her in at the first glimpse of his sea-blue eyes, but it was the man himself who kept her coming back for more.
She’d quickly learned he was a bit more than a solider—a lot more. He’d taken a chance on her, believed in her when she didn’t entirely believe in herself. He pushed aside his own Fuentes agenda to help her focus on hers…on Rachel. And she had no doubt that whether for one of his friends or a perfect stranger, he’d step straight into a bullet and not think twice.
That was Rafe. Not soldier Rafe. Or Alpha Rafe. But the man Rafe.
He was the kind of man she could fall easily in love with…the kind that could break her heart to smithereens simply by living his life the way he was meant to. Love—in general—was a land mine. Falling in love with a man whose sense of duty was etched into his DNA was like walking through that land mine blindfolded with explosives strapped to your chest.
Realizing she could very much be approaching the point of no return, Penny closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. When she opened them again, her gaze clashed with Rafe’s. She forgot it all—except the sweltering pull she felt to be close to him.
“Oh boy,” she murmured.
Never once breaking eye contact, Rafe shed his shirt and tugged off his boots. By the time the pants followed, Penny was a raging hot mess of mixed emotions. The fabric of her bra chafed against her sensitized nipples, and a dampness coated her body, which had nothing to do with humidity. Modesty definitely wasn’t an issue with the man, and why would it be?
Beneath the glow of Honduran moonlight, he looked like a warrior god. Every chiseled muscle flexed and rippled with fluidity. His broad chest melted into the taut angles of his abs.
The only imperfection marring his granite-hard body was a six-inch jagged scar to the right of his navel. Raised and rough, it contrasted the smooth perfection of his skin.
Penny blamed pheromones for not having seen it before. It looked vicious, as was the method by which it was probably obtained.
“That looks like it really hurt.” Her whisper sounded like a shout against the low drone of jungle wildlife.
“It didn’t tickle.”
Rafe’s muscles twitched as she gently ran her fingers over the serrated line. No, it wouldn’t have tickled. Even without a medical degree, she could recognize a mortal wound. An injury like that would’ve required life-saving efforts and a grueling recuperation. Her chest ached at the thought of him dealing with it alone, then throbbed with the realization that he’d dealt with it at all. In his line of work, injuries like this were collateral damage. And it didn’t stop him in the least.
Her pathetic handful of haul-ins in rural Pennsylvania didn’t qualify her to buff his combat boots, much less assist him on an operation. They sure as hell didn’t equate to a relationship where he didn’t pull out all his hair from boredom and run in the other direction.
“I was in a remote region near Kandahar—with my Delta unit.” His rough voice pulled her eyes up to his. As he spoke, his hand slipped on top of hers until their fingers entwined over the scar. “Villages were being pillaged for food and supplies. Residents lived in constant fear, too afraid to stick their heads out of their doors. From one day to the next, they never knew which travelers were friends and who wanted to blow them to kingdom come. Any assistance offered by US troops was always refused because they feared retaliation.”
“I can’t imagine living that way.” Penny shook her head, horrified.
“Neither can I, and eventually the village elder realized he wanted more for his people. My unit was sent to babysit a government official who wanted to broker a deal for intelligence-collection in exchange for protection from the insurgents. One of the elder’s sons wasn’t as receptive to the coalition. All he saw was the threat of danger to his family.”
When she got his meaning, her mouth dropped. “And he stabbed you because of it?”