Commando by Lindsay McKenna Page A

from him like a beacon of light slicing through the darkest night. But she couldn’t; she didn’t dare. Long ago she’d learned that no matter how nurturing a man appeared outwardly, later he would change—withdraw that care and hurt her. Her spongy mind screamed at her to resist, but her instincts persuaded her to accept Jake’s attention, just this once. Without a word, she nodded and left the antiseptic smells of the ward behind.

    The tropical sunlight lanced through the triple canopy of rain-forest trees, producing bright splotches on the otherwise shaded ground. Everywhere Shah looked, she saw distraught expressions on the Tucanos’s faces. Her heart ached for them, for their loss.

    “How many died last night?” Jake asked. He forced himself to allow his hand to slide off Shah’s shoulder. Every fiber of his being screamed that she needed to be held, but, much as he wanted to draw Shah into the circle of his arms, Jake knew she’d fight him.

    “Two. Thank the Great Spirit it wasn’t more,” she murmured tiredly. The once-swept path was littered with leaves, small branches that had fallen from overhead, and many impressions from bare feet.

    “Pai Jose is sleeping,” Jake told her. Shah was weaving unsteadily, and he started to reach out, but forced his hand back to his side.

    With a slight laugh, Shah said, “He ought to be! He’s seventy-two, but he has such strength for his age. I’m sure it’s his faith that gives him the grit to keep going when most people would have folded.”

    “Yeah,” Jake agreed, constantly surveying the area. “He was something of a miracle himself last night and this morning. I didn’t know he was a doctor.”

    “Well,” Shah said reluctantly, “he isn’t a medical doctor, but he’s been so isolated out here for the past fifty years that he’s had to learn more than just basic first aid.” She gazed wonderingly up at Jake. “And you. You never told me you were a paramedic.”

    He flushed and avoided her admiring gaze. “All part of being a recon marine,” he assured her.

    “Between you and Pai Jose, the people are going to be fine.” Shah walked carefully down the slope, dizzy from fatigue. Swallowing hard, she risked a look up at Jake. “This is all my fault,” she choked out softly. “I realize now it was Hernandez and his men who did this. It was a warning for me to leave or else.”

    Grimly Jake pulled her to a halt. Without thinking, knowing she needed his touch, he swung her around to face him. Her golden eyes were filled with tears of self-incrimination. “Now look,” he said gruffly, grazing her cheek with his fingers, “this attack wasn’t your fault.” He tried to ignore the fact that her skin felt like the lush velvet of an orchid petal.

    Jake’s brief touch sent Shah’s senses spinning. She stepped away from him, closed her eyes and inhaled a sudden breath of air. She heard the barely contained emotion in his rumbling tone, the raw feelings that lay just beneath it, and knew that he could shatter her defenses with the intimacy he’d automatically established with her.

    Forcing her eyes open and swallowing her tears, Shah tried to resurrect the tough barricade she’d presented to him yesterday. “This is my fault!” she insisted. “I should have realized that Hernandez would come back. Sometimes I’m too stubborn, too blind.” She held her hand against her trembling lips. “I should have placed these people’s welfare ahead of my own ideology! They’re the ones who have suffered. What about the two men who are dead? Their families will never see them again, and I’m responsible for that!”

    Jake winced inwardly at the logic of her words. He stepped forward, gripped her by the shoulders and gave her a tiny shake. “Listen,” he growled, “stop blaming yourself, Shah. You had no way of knowing Hernandez would do this.”

    Shah tried to pull away, but Jake’s fingers tightened their grip. Her voice rose. “I’ve