14
Caroline’s heartdrummed in her chest. Instead of shouting at the nurse for startling them, Reaper had sought to put the woman at ease.
And before that, when he’d assured Caroline his need had nothing to do with his fever, he’d soothed her as well.
She’d always imagined her life with some polished executive, someone who knew exactly how to hold the fork at a dinner; A shark in a suit, able to withstand the kind of social attacks commonplace in the political crowd. Instead, fate had served her up a god.
Reaper would never fit into one of her father’s dinners, let alone one of her fundraisers—and thank God for that. He’d done more good in his life than she could ever dream. He fought with his hands and risked his life to save those in need.
No amount of money on Wall Street or in the White House could ever equal that kind of sacrifice. She saw that now. What a sheltered life she’d lived, showing her dedication to alleviating poverty and helping starving children by showing up at fundraising dinners, whether the plate cost $2,000 or $10,000. Disgusting when you thought about it.
This town and this whole experience, start to finish, had been a giant slap of reality in her face. She’d been so naïve and so stupid, but Reaper had helped her see the truth.
When she got home there would be no more overabundance of sequined ball gowns and fake smiles and fake fundraisers. This kind of place needed boots on the ground and people to support them. People like Reaper who really cared. No donation could equal that. Much better for her to strive to be more like Reaper in the future. To help by actually showing up.
That hope unfurled inside her, blooming ever brighter.
“I know this is a stupid question, but how bad does it hurt?” Caroline asked.
He probably intended to offer her a smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. “Not the worst I’ve been through.”
He didn’t even flinch as the nurse pierced his flesh time and time again, re-stitching his wound, but the white lines around his eyes got wider. So did the tiny wrinkles that appeared in the corners of his mouth as he clenched his lips together.
“Liar,” she said with a smile.
“Okay, I’m man enough to admit it hurts just a little bit.”
Caroline glanced at the large hook-shaped needle the nurse was wielding. “A little bit?”
“Barely feel a thing.”
The brazen lie made her chuckle. “Thank God, because if it’s fifty miles to the nearest embassy, we’re going to be doing a lot of walking.”
The nurse looked up then, pausing mid-thread. “I have a cousin who smuggles refugees from the village. He could get you over halfway.”
Caroline drew a hopeful breath. “Really?” If they had transportation, it would give her time to rest; it would get them home even faster. This was more than she could’ve dreamed.
“No, I’ve already got something set up. You will not risk your family for us,” Reaper said gruffly, his gaze pulling from Caroline to the nurse. His eyelids lowered and his entire expression shut down. Try as she might, she couldn’t read his face when he did the shutdown thing, not even a little bit.
“Are you sure? He wants to fight against the guards as much as I do. I promise he isn’t a threat,” the nurse said. “My cousin sent word that the guards have put out an alert for two Americans. They’ll be searching for you here, and if they find you, I will not be able to stop them.”
“I’m sure. We have men waiting on us outside the city to transport us to the embassy. But thank you for your offer. It is truly kind,” Reaper said.
The nurse went back to stitching and Caroline went back to daydreaming.
Of course Reaper would have someone waiting on them. He probably had an entire unit of special-forces guys waiting in the bushes for him to get patched up and back out to them.
That thought should’ve sent nothing but joy through her, but there was a shadow over her heart. If he made contact with his men so quickly, she wouldn’t be allowed to spend any more time alone with him. She’d be rushed back home to her father and Reaper would be rushed to the nearest military base with a hospital. She hadn’t had enough time with him. What if he was assigned to another mission immediately and forgot about her?
A giant lump of dried-up sand clogged her throat—so chokingly dry she couldn’t even swallow. She wasn’t ready to give him up yet. Maybe she could convince him to stay and rest.
The nurse finished stitching up his wound all too quickly and had him re-bandaged before Caroline could think of a plausible reason to stay. His quick treatment was finished with an injection of two vials of fluid. “The first is a broad spectrum antibiotic. The second is something else. I know you Americans say it’s not safe, but I’ve also given you a dose of ephedrine, which may give you the edge you need to get out of here alive. You can’t stay in this hospital for much longer.”
Caroline watched as Reaper slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. She put her arms around him and helped him, knowing she wouldn’t likely be able to help but scared he might fall back and reopen his wound. “She didn’t mean for you to move right now.”
“Yes, I did,” the nurse said. “The sun’s coming up, which means you’ll lose what little camouflage you had by the darkness. If you’re going to get out of here safely, it has to be now.”
“Are you sure he can make it in his current condition?” Caroline asked.
