Page 64 of Her Tempting Protector

“Yes, ma’am.”

Carys sat back in the seat and continued to feed Adam his warmed-up bottle. She went over everything they’d said. After her time in Greece, she had taught herself to become hard in the face of tragedy, it was the only way to survive. But she hated the person she had become. That was the reason she had left DWB. The eight months she’d been in the States had helped get her right in the head. But here she was again—dull, lifeless, uncaring.

“Carys, it’s going to be okay.”

“I know.”

Cullen’s warm hand snuck under her braid to clasp around the back of her neck. She jolted, then settled into his gentle caress. “Talk to me, Honey.”

“About what? FUBAR?” Her voice sounded funny.

“Ah, Carys, you’re crying. Do you mean to be giving Adam his first shower?”

Carys touched her cheek. Her finger was trembling too.

“I’m not supposed to be crying. I’m made of stone. I don’t care about things.”

Cullen snorted as his thumb stroked up the middle line of her neck, hitting the base of her scalp. “Relax your head. Just let it tilt down.”

“You need both hands on the wheel.” Her voice was slurring, his hand felt like molten gold, sinking into every physical and emotional hurt.

“Raiden and Kane are protecting us. Let me help you.” Distantly she saw Adam’s eyes drift shut. She set the bottle down next to her and soothed circles over his tummy as she soaked in Cullen’s touch.

“Talk to me, Carys.”

She didn’t respond.

He waited and continued to press in, stroking and swirling his fingers in just a way that melted her muscles and dissolved her hurt. How could one man’s touch make her feel so treasured?

“It’s just too much,” she finally answered. “But I promise I’ll be fine when we get to Khartoum. I won’t let you down.”

“There is no way in hell you could ever let me down, Carys.” Cullen’s thumb brushed the top of her spine. When a tendril of hair worked its way loose from her braid, his fingers were immediately there to tuck it back into her hair’s twist. Adam began to get fussy.

“I need to burp him.”

“We’re circling back to this when we have time,” Cullen warned. “I don’t want you hurting.”

She put the baby on her shoulder and gently patted his back. She took a look over at Cullen, his attention was on the road. She looked up and saw another group of people pulled over, soldiers standing over them with guns.

Would it never end?

* * *

The soldiers used oil drums in order to split the highway as they got nearer to the city. It got to the point that the long line of cars trying to get out of Khartoum were being stopped, searched and many times having their belongings confiscated. The poor bastards who were dumb enough to want into Khartoum were only being searched for cameras. The RSF didn’t want journalists inside the city reporting on their atrocities. They weren’t on the lookout for international soldiers; the RSF assumed they were all coming in on the military air transports from the various carriers in the Red Sea.

Unfortunately, the angry older man who was checking their car, did have some extra questions for Cullen and Carys, especially when Carys could not produce identification. Ever since Cullen found out about Carys being on a watch list, he’d had her I.D. taped to the bottom of one of the crates supporting Shada’s mattress.

“Who is this woman and baby to you? Why are the two of you taking her to the hospital? Why not a Sudanese driver and nurse from Wad Madani?”

Carys jumped in before Cullen even had a chance to spin his normal bullshit.

“This young woman’s father used to work at the American Embassy. He left his job six months ago, but when he heard that my husband and I were travelling from Wad Madani to Khartoum he insisted that we bring her. He knew that I was a nurse and my husband would be a good escort because he once was a law enforcement officer in America.”

His head swiveled to look at Cullen. “She is your wife?”

“Yes,” Cullen affirmed.

“Let me talk to my supervisor.”