Hot-Blooded. Karen Foley

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СКАЧАТЬ even remember—or care—that she’d been at this party. She’d never even see these people again. Really, what did she have to lose? This might be the last night she had to enjoy herself for the next six months. Straightening her spine, she followed the sound of music and laughter. If this was going to be her last night in civilization, she was going to make it one to remember.

      As soon as she stepped into the function room, Elena realized she needn’t have worried. There were dozens of people inside, all of them talking or laughing together in small groups, and none of them paid her any attention. Several even smiled at her in a friendly, offhand manner. The lights had been dimmed to a pleasant glow, and a bar had been set up along one wall. The music was loud and upbeat, and a cloud of cigarette smoke hung suspended near the ceiling. Most of the people were men of varying ages and although all of them wore casual clothing, it wasn’t difficult for Elena to distinguish the active-duty military from the civilians. If their haircuts didn’t set them apart, their physical conditioning did.

      Elena skirted the crowd and sidled over to the bar, where bottles of alcohol were lined up alongside plastic cups and an ice bucket. When she didn’t see a bartender, she looked around, uncertain.

      “It’s an open bar, hon, so help yourself.”

      Elena turned to see a woman approach the bar beside her and liberally pour herself a glass of white wine from an uncorked bottle. She was older than Elena, probably in her forties.

      “Are you sure? I mean, who provided all of this?”

      The woman smiled and gave Elena a friendly wink. “You know the old adage—don’t ask, don’t tell. All I can say is drink up, because you never know when we’ll have this opportunity again.”

      That was the truth, Elena thought bleakly. Just thinking about what lay in store for her in the days and weeks ahead made her unaccountably homesick for her cozy little apartment back home. Despite the fact that she’d volunteered for this deployment, right now she couldn’t think of a single good reason for being here. Most people who volunteered did so because they had some patriotic calling or felt the need to support the troops in some way. Others did it for the money, which was in itself a huge incentive. But not her.

      Nope.

      She’d come because she’d had something to prove. Because she’d wanted everyone—her sister and cheating ex-boyfriend included—to see that she could be spontaneous and adventurous. She’d wanted to kick-start her life back into gear, but right now she just felt out of place and oddly alone, even in the midst of the party. She’d been excited about going to Baghdad, knowing she’d be just one of hundreds of civilians, and that the quality of life there was pretty good. But the prospect of spending six months at a remote outpost in the wilds of Afghanistan was another matter altogether. Quite frankly, it scared the hell out of her. She recalled Major Dumfries’ assurance that they hadn’t lost a civilian yet, but found little comfort in her words.

      “I haven’t seen you around before,” the woman continued. “Where are you stationed?”

      “Oh, I just came in from the States three days ago,” Elena explained. “I’ve been waiting for transportation to Baghdad, but just found out this morning that my orders have been changed.”

      The woman nodded sympathetically. “That happens a lot. Where are they sending you now?”

      Elena squinted, trying to recall the name of the base where she was headed. “Some forward operating base in Afghanistan. Shangri-la?” She laughed. “No, that’s not right, because I’m pretty sure this place isn’t paradise.”

      “Do you mean Sharlana?“

      “Yes! That’s the place.”

      The woman’s face grew sober, and she took a long swallow of her wine, avoiding eye contact.

      “What’s wrong?” Elena asked, dread uncoiling in her stomach. “Do you know something about Shangri-la that I don’t?”

      The woman lowered her cup and sighed. “Didn’t you hear? The Taliban attacked a U.S. base just forty miles north of Sharlana last night. Eight civilians were killed.”

       What?

      Elena stared at the woman. “Are you sure?”

      “Oh, yeah.” The woman gave a bitter laugh. “There are no military stationed there. Rumor has it that the civilians who were assigned there—including the ones who died—had ties to the CIA, so the base is probably only used by intelligence personnel.”

      Elena blew out a hard breath. “That’s awful.” She hesitated. “Has anything like that ever happened at Shangri-la, er, Sharlana?”

      “Not that I know of, but then again, there’s a Marine expeditionary unit stationed at Sharlana to deter any attacks.” She smiled at Elena. “You’ll be perfectly safe.”

      That was the second time that day she’d heard those words, so why did she have trouble believing them? With a groan, she grabbed the nearest bottle and proceeded to pour several fingers of a pale green liquor into a plastic cup. She tipped it back, swallowing the entire contents in a single, long gulp and then gasped as the alcohol burned the back of her throat and made her eyes sting.

      “Whoa, take it easy,” admonished the other woman, watching her with a mixture of astonishment and admiration. “That stuff’ll knock you on your ass.”

      “Oh, good,” Elena gasped, as warmth seeped through her body. “I’m actually in need of a little technical knockout.”

      The woman laughed. “Suit yourself. Just remember that you’ve been warned. Good luck, hon.”

      Elena watched the woman saunter away before she poured herself another glass of the green liquid, this time filling the cup. The alcohol had left a pleasant taste in her mouth, a sweet mixture of black licorice with minty undertones. She took a hefty swig, swirling the liquid around on her tongue and enjoying the flavor. She never drank anything other than wine or the occasional glass of beer, and now she wondered why. This stuff was delicious.

      “Careful there. You know what they say about the Green Devil.”

      The voice was deep and amused, and something inside Elena quivered in response. She turned to see a man leaning negligently against the bar, watching her. A broad-shouldered, lean-hipped man with a face that could have graced any number of different magazines, from guns and hunting, to high fashion. The appreciation in his eyes, combined with his lazy smile, caused a rush of heat to slide through her veins that had nothing to do with the liquor she’d just consumed.

      He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, and her first thought was that he had a body designed for battle—or a woman’s pleasure—honed to masculine perfection and sculpted in a way that she’d read about but had never actually seen up close. He had impossibly chiseled cheekbones and a mouth that would put a Renaissance angel to shame. In the indistinct light, she couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, and his dark hair was cropped close in a distinctly military style. He was altogether delicious.

      Elena wanted to bite him.

      The thought came out of nowhere and shocked her so much that she started, sloshing the alcohol over her fingers.

      “Green Devil?” she repeated lamely, sucking the liquid from her fingers and trying not to stare.

      He СКАЧАТЬ