Page 23 of SEAL's Promise
“It won’t.” He wouldn’t give up this privilege because of a little pain. The pleasure of holding Rachelle was too great. “Sleep if you can.”
She watched him a moment, then rested her head against his chest again. Within minutes, her breathing was deep and steady. She didn’t stir when the jet landed to refuel or when the aircraft resumed its journey toward Bayside, Texas.
Three hours later, the jet began the final approach to the airport. Time to wake Rachelle. He hated to release her. Holding Rachelle was fast becoming an addiction.
“Rachelle,” he murmured.
She sighed, her breath warming his neck.
“Time to wake up. We’ll land soon.”
She tilted her head back to look at him. “How do you feel? Don’t sugar-coat your answer.”
Cal blinked. He couldn’t remember the last time someone other than a medic asked him that question. “My arm hurts, but I’ve had worse injuries.”
“Let Dr. Sorenson check it.”
“Jackson is a great medic,” he said, voice soft.
“I know. Do it for my peace of mind.”
“After he examines Eric.” And Rachelle. He wanted assurance that she was all right after her ordeal. The doc’s bedside manner was abrasive with operatives, but he was a softy with the women and children Fortress rescued. Besides, Sorenson liked Rachelle. The doc mentioned her when Cal had the unfortunate necessity to be a guest at the clinic.
He retrieved her bottle of water. “Here. Drink more before Jackson has my hide for not taking care of you.”
She smiled and drained the remaining water.
Excellent. When they arrived at the clinic, he’d encourage her to eat a light meal. Whether she realized it or not, Rachelle burned many calories fleeing from the terrorists and running to the SUV. He’d be surprised if her body wasn’t sore after the long hours of stress and tension.
Once the jet stopped on the tarmac, Cal helped Rachelle to her feet. She swayed and gasped as her knees buckled.
He caught her with an arm around her waist as operatives unbuckled their seatbelts and retrieved their bags. “Easy.”
“I feel like I just finished a marathon. My muscles are sore.”
He drew her against his side. “I’ll ask for over-the-counter pain relievers at the clinic.”
“How’s Eric?”
“Stable. Jesse and Jackson kept him sedated.” He eased her away. “Better?”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
Hoisting his Go bag over one shoulder, Cal held out his free hand to Rachelle. She shrugged into her pack and slid her hand into his.
He squeezed gently and led her toward the door. Two of Sorenson’s crew boarded the jet and headed for the bedroom.
“Who are they?” Rachelle asked.
“The doc’s assistants. They’ll help the medics transport Eric to the clinic.”
Three SUVs were parked nearby, a driver at the wheel of the first vehicle. After Eric and Amy were ensconced in the back of the second SUV with Jesse, Eli motioned for Cal to escort Rachelle to the first vehicle. Eli and Rafe joined them while Jackson headed for the second SUV, and Jon the third. The rest of the Texas unit split up between the SUVs. Sorenson’s men climbed behind the steering wheels.
The three vehicles headed for the veterinary clinic. Within fifteen minutes, the teams provided a hedge of protection around Eric, Amy, and Rachelle as they exited the SUVs and entered the building. Another one of Sorenson’s assistants motioned for his coworkers to take Eric to the exam room.
Ted Sorenson joined them in the hall. “Maddox wants an update.” He frowned at Eli. “Call the man so he’ll leave me alone.”
He acknowledged the doctor’s surly order with a snappy salute. “Your wish is my command.”