Devil in Dress Blues by Karen Foley Read Free Book Online Page A

he’d growled at her, “or I’ll damned well leave you here.”
    Her pretty blue eyes had widened, but she’d snapped her mouth shut and allowed him to shove her ahead of him through the corridors. As he and his men hurried the women toward the exit, gunfire had erupted all around them, and a second man, Sergeant Hager, went down with a muffled cry. Rafe had hauled him up by his flak jacket and supported his weight as they’d made their escape. They’d planted several explosive devices around the compound hours earlier, and now Rafe’s men began methodically detonating them. In the ensuing confusion, the team managed to slip into the surrounding darkness with the aid workers, and they hadn’t stopped until they were several miles into the surrounding mountains.
    Rafe had been forced to carry Hager across the rugged terrain. By the time they’d reached a safe spot to rest, Rafe’s entire body had ached with effort. After he’d set the man down, he’d fished through his pouch for his first aid kit, removing Ann’s camera and setting it on the ground nearby. The bullet had struck his friend just below the edge of his flak vest, in the side of his abdomen.
    “We need to stop the bleeding before we can head to the extraction point, or he’s not going to make it,” he’d said grimly. “How is Brody doing?”
    “I’m fine,” Brody had replied, as another team member wrapped a tourniquet around his injured thigh. “Just a scratch.”
    A series of blinding flashes had sent Rafe surging to his feet, his weapon drawn. Fury seethed through him when he saw that Ann Lonquist had grabbed her camera from where he’d placed it on the ground, and was busy snapping pictures of their hasty triage. Had he really thought her attractive? With a feral growl, he’d advanced on her.
    “Are you that much of an idiot?” he’d hissed, as she backed away. He snatched the camera out of her hands. “What the hell are you doing?”
    “D-documenting.”
    “Just who the hell are you?”
    “I—I’m a relief worker.” Her voice had sounded high and thin, and Rafe had known she was lying.
    “Bullshit. Tell me the truth.”
    “Fine. I’m a photojournalist,” she’d acknowledged in a small voice. “But how else was I going to get my story? I never thought we’d be kidnapped and held hostage.”
    “Your thoughtless actions nearly got my men killed,” he’d said softly, “and now you’re determined to advertise our exact location with your fucking camera flash.” In disgust, he’d opened the camera and retrieved the small memory card. “What did you plan on doing with these photos?”
    He could see from her expression that she’d fully intended to publish them in whatever magazine or newspaper she worked for.
    “Jesus,” he’d breathed in disgust. “You’d put all our lives at risk for the sake of your story.”
    “I risked my own life for this story,” she retorted. “I’ve earned those photos.”
    “The hell you have,” he’d snarled.
    He hadn’t spoken to her again, not during the hike to where a helicopter was waiting to airlift them out, and not when they arrived back at Bagram Air Base. He could barely bring himself to look at her when she’d stiffly asked for the return of her camera. He’d handed it to her—minus the memory card—and then he’d turned and walked away.
    His men had survived, but Sergeant Hager had suffered so much internal damage from the bullet he’d taken that he’d been forced to leave the Marine Corps on a medical discharge. Rafe blamed Ann for the fact that he’d lost a good man.
    He told himself again that he shouldn’t be so surprised—so goddamned disappointed—to realize he’d been right about Sara Sinclair. But he was. There was something about her that appealed to him on a primal level, and it was more than just the ripe lushness of her mouth or her curvy body. There was a kind of innocence to her, a sweet vulnerability that couldn’t be hidden no matter how