A Soldier in Conard County Page 13

  Imagine having to live with a bullet near your spine, uncertain if you might become paralyzed. Or having your hip shattered badly enough that one operation couldn’t put it all back together. It was mind-boggling.

  * * *

  Gil watched the expressions flit across her face. He liked that he could detect the brief changes in her mood as she thought about matters she didn’t mention. He didn’t need to know what exact pathways she followed; it was enough to know how she felt about them.

  Then, surprising himself, he rose from the table, grabbed his cane and held out a hand to her. “Come sit with me in the living room. Chairs with hard seats are a kind of torture these days.”

  “Oh! I didn’t know. I should have gotten you a pillow.” She looked horrified and he couldn’t smother a grin.

  “How were you supposed to know? Besides, you have a very comfortable couch in the next room. Coming?”

  She smiled, an unclouded expression he was glad to see, and took his hand.

  Hers felt so small inside his. Delicate. Fragile. Yet those hands of hers must be powerful, too, to play musical instruments. A different kind of strength.

  Once in the living room, he sat at the far end of the couch, up against the arm. It gave him some back support, but also gave her the choice of how close to sit. But he didn’t immediately let go of her hand, making it clear he didn’t want her to draw away.

  She didn’t even hesitate before she sat right beside him.

  “It felt so good when you hugged me,” he said frankly. And it was feeling good again. He didn’t know how to describe the sensation, except that she softened against him, almost as if she wanted to melt into him, become part of him. He’d never experienced that with anyone before.

  He cleared his throat, deciding that this was one time just holding it all in might be the wrong thing to do. If he were reading her body language correctly... And if he wasn’t, he might as well know now, because a part of his body was stiffening and beginning to throb, narrowing the focus of his world to the woman beside him.

  Such a rare feeling, this hunger, this hovering on the edge of anticipation and uncertainty. The years hadn’t jaded him one bit. This woman was precious, and what he wanted from her equally so.

  He cleared his throat again and said bluntly, “I want you.”

  He felt a slight tension in her.

  “I realize...” He tried to continue. Realized what? That he’d only really met her two days ago. That all she knew about him she’d heard through Al, and Gil couldn’t imagine what that might be. Not even all their Skyping since Al’s funeral had been intimate enough to say he knew her.

  But he wanted her. And he was startled when she said, “Don’t. Just hush and hold me and...”

  That was all the invitation he needed. He started to twist his screaming body so he could embrace her, but she took him by surprise. As soon as she drew her hand from his, she reared up and swung her leg over him, tucking her knee into the narrow space between him and the sofa arm. Straddling him. Inviting him.

  Her robe rode up, baring her thighs, creating a warm, dark cave between them. Her womanly scents filled his nostrils, enticing him, and when his gaze lifted from that dark, aromatic crevice, it fixed on the zipper that would completely undo her robe.

  Not yet, some hazy thought said. Savor. Take it easy. Slowly...

  But God, it had been so long for him his body didn’t want to wait. It wanted to pillage, plunder, take her for a wild ride she’d never forget.

  Her hands settled on his shoulders, and his heavy-lidded gaze rose higher, taking in her face, the way her head was tipped back, her eyes were closed. Her breathing had become rapid, and he could see the rapid pulse beat in her throat. She had given herself over completely.

  That amount of trust made his throat tighten in a totally unusual way. It also warned him to be careful. Extremely careful. Not only was she Al’s cousin, but she had made herself so vulnerable that Gil ached.

  All the self-control he’d been cultivating for years proved to be a sham. He knew he shouldn’t do this, but he couldn’t stop himself. Miriam Baker was a siren, and he couldn’t resist the promise she held out right now.

  A long, shaky breath escaped him as he gave in. Reaching up, he pulled down the zipper, ignoring the enticements below. The slider on the teeth sounded loud suddenly, ratcheted up his desire.

  He’d hardly dared hope she’d be naked under the robe, but she was. As he pulled the fabric open wider, he saw the globes of her breasts hanging before him like delicious fruit ready for his touch. He slipped his hands inside the fabric and found her slender waist, slowly sliding them upward, feeling every curve and hollow, his mouth going dry with anticipation. At last he reached the underside of those globes and lifted her breasts in his hands, squeezing them, drawing a low moan from her. His thumbs found her nipples and stroked them almost instantly into hardness.

  Then his view was blocked as he lowered her head and pressed her mouth to his. He gave her entry, and her tongue darted inside his mouth, tasting of tea, and began to drive him nuts by rubbing against his tongue and brushing lightly against the insides of his cheeks.

  His body arched upward instinctively, but he stopped it almost immediately, fearing a swelling of pain in addition to the turgidity of his member, which already ached enough that he wondered if he could wait until Miri was with him.

  But as he caressed her nipples and returned her kisses, he felt her begin to rock against him. It was going to be over before they knew it.

  He pulled his mouth away, drawing deep gasps of air. “Miri...too fast.”

  “Hush. We can do this again.”

  He was eager to accept that plan. Very eager.

  “Besides,” she whispered in his ear as she began to rock against him again, “I want you completely naked.”

  Well, that wasn’t going to happen right now. No escaping it. His mind whirled with sensations. He throbbed and now it was more than his loins. His entire body was one big drumbeat of passion.

  Sliding a hand downward, he found that dark cave between her thighs, that aromatic place he hadn’t yet explored. As his fingers touched her, he found her damp, but barely had time to register that as a cry escaped her and she pressed herself so hard against him that his hand was caught between her and his rod.

  She might as well have poured gasoline on a fire. He felt surrounded by her, trapped by her, and it fueled his desire into a raging conflagration that threatened to burn him into a cinder.

  Helplessly in thrall to the needs they shared, they rocked together like a boat on stormy seas until...until...

  He heard her cry out, felt her body stiffen against him. Then he let go, feeling as if he turned himself inside out as he jetted his way to completion.

  Chapter Seven

  Miri felt as if she’d taken a ride in the center of a whirlwind. Collapsed on Gil, she couldn’t move, didn’t seem able to quiet her heart enough to fully catch her breath.

  His arms closed around her back, holding her close, and time passed before she commanded her thoughts enough to wonder about him. “Did I make you hurt?” She hadn’t even thought of that as she’d acted like a wildcat in heat.

  “You hurt me so good,” he murmured. His fingers tangled in her hair and tipped her head so he could kiss her.

  Oh, heavens, was she about to lose her mind again? Cave in to the cravings he awoke in her? Surely it was too soon. At any moment reality would come crashing back in and she’d wonder if she was crazy. Because she’d never acted like this before in her life and she wanted to do it again. Soon.

  But he stirred beneath her eventually, and, reluctantly, she tried to sit up. He needed to help her. When had every muscle in her body become spaghetti?

  “Join me in a shower?” he asked.

  She looked into those stormy gray eyes and drew a sharp breath at
how soft they looked now. Like flannel rather than flint or granite. If she could help him to look like that all the time...

  “It’s a small stall,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “I think we can manage nicely.”

  They’d hardly be able to squeeze a sheet of paper between them, but that didn’t seem so bad. Smiling at the thought, she slid off his lap, again with his assistance, and managed to get stable on her own two feet. She didn’t care that her robe still hung open where it had been unzipped.

  What she wanted was to see him naked. She’d been denied that so far, and her insides quickened at the thought. He might be wounded, but she was sure he’d be magnificent anyway. Perfection had never appealed to her.

  She walked down the hall and turned into her bedroom to use the bath there. Better than trying to stand in the tub in the other room. Even with the mat she’d put down, it always seemed too slippery. In her shower at least, there’d be walls to lean on if necessary.

  She reached in, turning the water on to a moderately hot temperature, then closed the door. As she turned she watched Gil enter the bedroom. He looked around, nodding to himself, then moved to the foot of her bed.

  He faced her, a crooked smile on his mouth. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready for what?”

  He shook his head a bit. “Not pretty. But for my lady’s pleasure...”

  He dropped his cane on the bed and reached for the buttons of his shirt. She ached to help him with that because it would allow her to touch his skin, but as she took a little step his way, he shook his head.

  He needed to do this, she understood. Help would have diminished him right now. Okay. She got it. She shrugged her robe off, letting it fall to the floor.

  He shrugged off his shirt and tossed it on the bed. His chest was broad, powerfully muscled despite everything he’d been through. Holding her breath, clenching her hands, she made herself wait even as her very core began to grow heavy and throb again.

  His arms looked as if he could lift a grown man in each one. She wondered if he always worked out to that degree or if this was some kind of compensation. But then she caught sight of scars in his side and across his abdomen. She bit her lip, holding back any sound of dismay.

  He reached for the button on the loose camo pants he seemed to favor, and they slid off him as if they’d long since become too big.

  She bit her lip harder as she saw that his legs were nowhere near as heavily muscled as his upper body. They weren’t twigs by any means. Nicely shaped...

  Oh, Lord, those were burn scars running down one side of his leg. She could almost see the shadow of flames licking up from below. My God, what had happened to him?

  He sat on the bed, working on his boots, finally kicking them aside, followed by his socks. Then he stood again and reached for the waistband of his boxers with his thumbs.

  “I need to warn you,” he said gruffly. “Lots of scars, not all from surgery.”

  He’d already showed her enough to rip her heart out, but she managed a nod and waited for the rest of it.

  His briefs hit the floor, but she barely saw it. He hadn’t been kidding. His hip looked like the creation of a mad doctor. Scars. The scars of an awful lot of stitches. No longer smooth. Flesh was gone, and probably muscle, as well.

  She couldn’t stand back any longer. Closing the distance between them, she reached out with one hand and began to run her palm over him, from the scars in his side, and down to his hip.

  “So much pain,” she murmured. “Oh, Gil...”

  He stood stiffly, letting her continue her inspection, as if he needed something settled right then.

  She wasn’t in the least repulsed, if that was what he feared. Instead she felt a kind of awe. This man had survived so much, would survive more. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to endure what he had...and still did.

  She found every scar with her hands, pockmarks she thought must be bullet holes, the sharper lines of surgery, the burn scars down the side of his leg...all of it. And as she went, she dropped kisses on them.

  Finally, he said through teeth that sounded as if they were gritted, “Shower.”

  She straightened, catching sight of his renewed erection, and despite everything she laughed.

  “Vixen,” he said, a grin reframing his mouth from hard lines to soft ones. Lighting his whole face in a way she hadn’t seen before. He still had the capacity for laughter, and that delighted her.

  The shower stall was tight, but not too tight. It certainly wasn’t too tight for him to lather her in every place he could reach. He spent some extra time on her breasts and between her legs, until she was panting.

  Finally, she grabbed the bar of soap from him. “My turn.”

  He even turned so she could get his back. Nothing hidden. Not one damn thing. Then she pulled down the showerhead on its long hose and began rinsing him. She had no idea how long the hot water would last and she didn’t think either of them would enjoy a blast of icy water.

  “Oh, I like this,” he said, taking the sprayer from her and beginning to rinse her. “I can imagine all kinds of trouble I could get into.”

  The water was just beginning to cool by the time they stepped out onto the mat. Miri grabbed a stack of towels from the small linen closet and learned that friction could be amazingly delightful, too.

  Then, dried at last, he gathered her close and held her.

  “You’re wonderful,” he murmured. “Perfect. Beautiful. Kind. Amazing.”

  She wanted to answer his extravagant praise in kind, but he swallowed her words with a kiss, making her melt all over again. He was so sweet, and right now he smelled of soap, and the heat from the shower still radiated off him, filling her senses.

  Abruptly, reality returned.

  “I need my cane.” His voice had suddenly grown tight, and he released her.

  Before she could offer to get it, he’d propped himself with his hand on the wall and took the two steps to grab the cane. He carried a towel with him as he limped into the bedroom and laid it on the bed to sit on.

  The air felt chillier than usual after he released her. Without a word, she went to her closet and pulled out another robe, this one of thick, green terry cloth. Wrapping it around her and cinching the belt, she went to sit beside him.

  His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched. She wondered if she should even touch him. “Are you cold?”

  He gave a little shake of his head, and she fell silent, waiting for him to deal with the pain that must have suddenly overwhelmed him. She hoped she hadn’t caused it.

  A couple minutes later he opened his eyes. “I must have moved wrong. That came out of nowhere.”

  She hadn’t realized how stiffly he’d been sitting until she felt him beginning to relax beside her. “That must have been a doozy.”

  Another one of his patented half smiles. “Yeah. Sorry. Not very romantic.”

  She pursed her lips and pretended to ponder. “I don’t seem to remember asking for romance or that you be romantic. Not that I have anything against it. I’m just pretty sure I didn’t ask for it, so don’t apologize.” Then she grew serious. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Afraid not. It’s easing back to normal levels. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

  Then, like a voice out of the depths, her stomach growled loudly. She clapped her hand to her mouth, unsure whether to giggle or apologize.

  Gil laughed. “I think we need to feed you something.”

  She dropped her hand, allowing her smile to show. “I don’t usually do that. I’d have a classroom full of hilarity if I ever did. Are you hungry, too?”

  “In my line of work, you quickly learn to never turn down a meal or snack.” He pushed himself gingerly to his feet. “Shall we go explore?”

  She knew what kind of exploring she’d have liked to do jus
t then, but figured it would have to wait. Besides, another stomach growl like that would ruin a mood instantly.

  She rose, too, and waited, but he waved her on. “I’ll be along in a second.”

  Reluctant to leave him behind—what in the world was going on with her? She was going only twenty feet—she walked to the kitchen and started sorting through cupboards and the refrigerator. Apparently soup and crackers hadn’t been enough for either of them. They needed something more substantial, but, honestly, she wasn’t used to shopping for more than herself, and even looking forward to this visit she’d assumed she’d just be able to run to the store if she needed anything more.

  Enter one inconvenient blizzard. Well, she thought with a secret smile, maybe not so inconvenient. She glanced at the clock on the microwave and realized it was just past eleven. Hardly late, but too late for cooking a real meal. Not that she had many recipes up her sleeve.

  She gave a sigh. Life alone, devotion to teaching, not preparing herself in any way, thinking it was great to spend time with her friends, at most getting together with a few other people to do small concerts for church charity...well, she was amazingly incompetent at small things. Most people who lived alone could cook, couldn’t they? But at some point she’d decided she hated to do it, and her diet had become simplified and easy. Boxes and cans stared at her, and in her freezer a package of cubed ham for adding to eggs or...

  Hmm. She eyed a box of red beans and rice. She could add some of the ham to that and make it in about twenty-five minutes in her rice cooker.

  Because making her life easy had involved lots of handy little appliances, like a rice cooker, and an egg cooker that always delivered perfect eggs even if she became absentminded over her schoolwork. Automated cooking. Yeah, that was her style.

  She heard the uneven steps approaching and readied a smile. Gil came through the door wearing a black T-shirt, a fresh pair of dark boxers, and black socks on his feet.