Edge of the Heat 5 (22 page)

“We will sleep until dusk, and then start walking again. Each of us should get almost 6 hours of sleep. Will that be enough for you?” She chanced a look at Jerry. He had put his shirt back on, thank goodness.

He nodded and knelt next to her, taking the offered cans of food. “I know it’s not much,” she said. “But it’s food. There were a few military style MREs in the survival pack I found, but I thought we should save them. They are the lightest to carry and have the most calories. We’ll need them more in a few days.”

“Good thinking,” he said, smiling a soft almost-secret smile.

She took a spoonful of food and glanced at him while chewing. He kept looking at her with that damn smile on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked him.

Instead of answering, he asked her a question in a voice as soft as his smile. “How many languages do you speak?”

“7,” she answered automatically, then ticked them off on her fingers. “English, Egyptian, Arabic, Spanish, French, Italian, and Farsi.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “Did your parents speak all of them?”

“My mom spoke Egyptian, Arabic, and Farsi. My dad spoke Spanish and a little Italian and French. When I was 5 and again when I was 12 we spent a year overseas in the Middle East and in France.

He shook his head, awe shining in his eyes. “You really are the perfect spy aren't you?”

Something in his look disturbed Sara. She put down her food and stood up, pacing the ridge-line, trying to get a handle on her feelings.

“Did I say something wrong?” He had come up behind her, silently, more silently than she would have thought a man as large as him could move.

She whirled on him, eyes burning. “You shouldn’t admire me because I am a spy Jerry! I have done unspeakable things because of it! I have lived an unspeakable life! I have seen horrors that you should thank God that you have never had to see!”

Jerry stepped backwards at the ferocity of her verbal attack. “Sara, I know, I mean, I don’t know, but I can imagine. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

He reached forward and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. A gentle and intimate gesture he’d wanted to do dozens of times, but only now felt the courage to perform.

“I do admire you though, not because you are a spy, but because of who you are, because of your strength and conviction.”

The blaze of anger in Sara’s face dissolved. Her body relaxed. “You do?”

Jerry nodded. “I think you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” he breathed, looking into her deep brown eyes.

“You don’t think I’m scary?” Sara asked, her lower lip trembling minutely.

“Scary? I’d be plenty scared of you if I were a criminal,” Jerry said. “But I’m not a criminal. No, I don’t think you’re scary.”

“And y-you still ...
like
me?” Sara asked, something like fear evident in her eyes.

“Like you? Yeah, I like you. I like you like I like breathing. I like you like I like eating.” Jerry told her, his voice pitched low, his words just for her.

“What does that
mean
?”

“It means-” Jerry stopped, scared to tell her what he really thought, scared to bare the real emotions swirling through his brain and body. He took a deep breath. If he couldn’t be honest with her, he needed to quit being honest with himself.
Risk it now  or regret it forever
, he told himself harshly.

“It means I think I’ll die if I have to go one more second without kissing you.” There, he’d said it.  Jerry’s face dropped to within an inch of Sara’s. He could smell mint on her breath and salt on her skin.

“I don’t want you to die.” Sara’s voice trembled. She tilted her mouth up towards Jerry’s. She watched him closely under lowered lashes with those eyes that missed nothing.

Jerry resisted the urge to close
his
eyes. Not daring to believe it was really happening, he slowly lowered his face and pressed his lips to hers. The moment their lips touched, Jerry felt as if the hot desert air exploded around them and pressed back in on him. His body throbbed and pulsed. His thoughts fell away.

Electricity crackled everywhere their skin touched. Jerry reveled in it. He rubbed his hands up her arms, then encircled her, pulling her entire body in to his. Her fingers tangled in his shirt and tugged him closer. Her tongue met his eagerly, circling, exploring, claiming what it could.

The desert fell away. The past disintegrated. The recalled horrors ceased to matter. Jerry’s once-tired body re-charged in an instant. He felt ready to run a marathon, if only she would go with him.

Sara pulled away, gasping a little. She leaned her forehead against Jerry’s chest for a moment. He desperately hoped she wasn’t having second thoughts about kissing him. Her whole body ached for more. She looked up, giving him a serious look.  “I’m suddenly very aware that I’ve been walking in the desert for hours and haven’t had a shower in days. I must smell.” She pulled her shirt away from her body and let it fall again, wrinkling her nose.

Jerry smiled, relief filling him. He kissed her cheek, then her neck, then trailed kisses from her ear to her collarbone, running his fingers through her hair. It felt smooth and heavy, silky and sleek. She shivered under his attention. “You smell sweet, like a vanilla cupcake.” He kissed her neck again. “A salty vanilla cupcake.” He smiled to show he was joking with her.

She pulled away, with a look of alarm. “I need to wash up.”

He caught her hand. “Do you need help?”

“No.” She grabbed a water bottle and practically ran behind the rocks. Jerry winced, hoping the fragile moment wasn’t ruined.

***

S
ara leaned against the boulder, her heart beating wildly. Kissed her. Jerry had kissed her. Kissed him. She had kissed Jerry. They were in the middle of the desert, fleeing from men who wanted to torture and kill her and him too, and they were kissing.
So what
, a soft voice said. A voice that definitely did not belong to Miss-All-Business.

So what
, it repeated.
You like him, he likes you. He knows what he’s getting into. You’ve told him your story
. (Not all of it) she told the voice.
You’ve told him enough that he knows what your life is like. He knows the stakes. He knows you are playing for your life and his too, not just for money or matchsticks. You aren’t hiding anything from him. He’s a big boy. If he wants to kiss you, you should let him kiss you. God knows you’ve wanted to kiss him for long enough. God knows you could use a little bit of a man like him in your life.

Sara looked out across the desert as the voice echoed in her brain. She saw a small movement a mile away - a rabbit hopping out of a hole or maybe a fox, looking for food. Absently, she took off her shirt and washed herself with the water. She splashed her face and her chest and under her arms.

Kissing Jerry felt like a dream, even though it had only happened a few minutes ago. She continued to wash up, her brain working furiously. What was she thinking? No matter what the part of her that wanted to kiss Jerry again said, this was a bad idea.

Decision made, she pulled on her shirt and walked purposely back to Jerry.

He was sitting on a rock. He began to get up as she approached, an eager look on his face. She held up a hand like a traffic cop. “I don’t know what I was thinking, but what we just did was inappropriate. Perhaps there is some sort of a spark between us, and if circumstances were different maybe we could see where that spark would lead. But circumstances aren’t different. The fact is we are being hunted by evil men, and now is not the time or place to play out whatever attraction we may feel for each other.”

Sara set her feet and crossed her arms, expecting Jerry to maybe hang his head in remorse. Maybe apologize. Maybe agree with her.

Instead, he walked towards her until they were almost touching. The eager look on his face had morphed into something leaner, hungrier. He had some things to say also. His voice, whiskey-smooth, yet inexplicably sandpaper-rough, told her almost as much as his words. It said “I want you and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” It said “I’m willing to take my chances with you.” It said “You are worth the pain, the chase, the fate that may come.” Her knees almost gave out at this revelation. He didn’t just want to kiss her, to touch her, to have sex with her. He still wanted a relationship with her! He wanted to
know
her! He wanted to share the horrors of her life and halve them if he could.
He loved her
. She could see it in his eyes. But did he understand the worst of it? The worst of what she had done? How could he possibly love her? She hadn’t actually said the words. The worst words she had to share. That must be it. He didn’t
truly
understand what she was.

Mentally, she shook herself out of her thoughts and concentrated on his words.

“The way I see it,” he said, “circumstances have led us here together and life is for the living, no matter what may come. The way I see it, you’ve spent an awful lot of your time on this earth devoted to your very worthy cause - but its eaten your life. The fact that we are in grave danger doesn’t make me feel like stuffing my feelings and keeping myself from kissing you, from touching you. It makes me want to explore that kiss - those touches all the more, because I know there may be no second chance. I know if those men find us we could die. And I don’t want to die without having held you in my arms, and felt your body against mine. I don’t want to regret never having told you how I feel about you and how much I want you.”

Sara trembled at his words.
If only she could believe them!
He had to know.

“Jerry, I don’t think you understand some of the things I’ve done.” She took his hand and held it to her cheek. She stared into his soul, drinking him in, while he could still stand to be this close to her. She pushed her cheek into his palm and he caressed her skin lovingly, patiently. She memorized the feeling of it. She kissed his fingers lightly, then placed his hand back at his side. He wouldn’t want to touch her after her next revelation. “I don’t think I made something clear to you.” Her voice dropped till he could barely hear her. “I’ve slept with men as a prostitute.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “No, you’ve slept with men as an agent working for her country, undercover as a prostitute. There’s a difference.”

She leaned forward urgently. “There might be a difference, but don’t you understand?
I’ve had sex with criminals
. Not just once. Many times. I never, ever liked it, but I did it anyway. I let them touch me and put their disgusting hands all over me, and their-”

Jerry interrupted her. “I know what sex is. And I understand why you did it. It doesn’t matter. Well, unless you’re still doing it?”

Sara shook her head, trying to process his words. “No, even though the work is not finished, in fact will never be done, I had to give up that way. I haven’t pretended to be a prostitute in over 3 years.”

Jerry nodded, as if that solved everything. “Good. Perfect.” He brought his hands to her waist and tried to gather her to him. She pulled back in dismay.
He still didn’t understand!

“How can you touch me?” she cried, shame eating her from the inside out. “I’m disgusting. I’m filthy. I’m spoiled. I’m-!”

He interrupted her again. “Sara, I don’t care how many men you’ve had sex with while you were working,” he growled, his face set. “Each child you rescued canceled out
one thousand
men in my eyes. So unless you’ve had sex with hundreds of thousands of men, I consider you to still be a virgin. Except for your boyfriends, of course. But you’re a grown woman. Everyone has a past. There are no women your age walking around without a sexual history.”

Sara covered her hands with her face. Sharp remorse tore at her insides, but it softened and weakened with his words. She couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true.
Could it?
There weren’t really any good men that would forgive a past like that,
were there
? She shook her head, negating what he had just said.

“It’s true. Every word of it,” he said, trying again to pull her close. She came, but stiffly.

“No boyfriends,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands.

“What?!” he said, his tone amazed.

“I haven’t had a boyfriend.”

Jerry pulled her hands away from her face gently. He tucked a finger under her chin, pulling her gaze up to his. “You’ve never had a boyfriend?”

She shook her head, her long brown hair flowing over his arm.

“Oh baby, you’ve really denied yourself the good things in life, haven’t you?” he asked softly.

“Who would I date? What would I tell them I did for a living? And how could I take the time to meet a man while children shook in terror somewhere in the town? In the city. In the country. In all countries.” she whispered.

He nodded, seeing it. Understanding it. “You can’t save them all baby. You know that right? You could work 20 hours each day for the rest of your life, and still not save them all. That’s for God to do. Or destiny. Or I don’t know. I don’t know why anyone suffers in our world, most of all why children suffer, but I do know it’s not for one person to fix. Maybe there isn’t a fix right now. Maybe there never will be.”

Sara sagged against him, her shame drained from her body. He knew it all now. There were no more secrets. And he was still touching her. Still talking sweetly to her. Could he still love her? She searched his face frantically, wanting to know. He smiled at her and brushed her hair back from her forehead. His touch spoke volumes.

Sara looked around his body at the desert stretching for miles around them. Her sharp eyes picked out animals here and there. A snake, a rabbit, something smaller rustling in the scrub brush. But nothing else. No men. No dogs. No helicopters. They were safe for at least a little while.

She pulled him to their bed of jackets and shade. “Jerry, will you make love to me like a boyfriend? Show me what I’ve been missing?” Jerry’s hand squeezed hers and she knew he would.