Army of You & Me (5 page)

“Enjoy!” the server beamed at them.

Madeline reached over and took his hand in both of hers. “I wasn’t crossfire. I was a target. And it was people like you that got between me and execution. Don’t ever apologise for that. Please.” Unable to speak, Cain edged cutlery to her side of the table with his free hand. She drew her thumbs over the back of his hand and said, “We should eat before it gets cold.”

He cleared his throat. “Good plan.”

***

Their talk moved away from the pitfalls of war, and Madeline was immensely grateful for the reprieve. She was one more word away from bawling her eyes out in front of him and probably driving him to tears as well. As they ate, Cain talked about where in London he wanted to live. He kept mentioning places in Central, whilst she desperately wanted him to be South and thereby close to her. She couldn’t help feeling disappointed in his explanation that Dulwich was just as, if not more, expensive than some places in the centre of town.

“My ex-wife received the house in our divorce, so maybe Central isn’t the best place for me.”

Madeline choked on her second pint. “Your what?”

“Divorce.”

“How long were you married?” she asked, jealousy ripping through her like fire. He had made such life-long promises to a woman and hadn’t kept them.

A corner of his mouth tilted upwards. “We were married just two years. I was barely in the country, and my life expectancy was really short. I only gave her the house so she’d leave off my pension.”

“Sneaky bitch,” Madeline muttered. “Sorry. I’m sure she was nice.”

“Not during the divorce she wasn’t,” he retorted. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Where was the house?” She forced the question through her throat rather than asking why he’d marry someone so patently materialistic. Why did he give her a house after such a short marriage? It explained why he was living with his parents at his age.

“South Kensington. It had been in the Goldsmith family for decades. I’m the first divorce in a century.”

“Oops,” she murmured.

Cain shrugged. “Happens. The folks weren’t particularly happy about it, but the less fuss that was made, the better.”

“Serves you right for marrying in haste.”

He laughed again. “You are being thoroughly judgemental. Look, I was going on another tour at the time, to Iraq. She thought she was pregnant, and I wanted to make sure any benefits of being an army wife and mother of my child would go straight to her, especially if something happened to me. I didn’t want to think of her as struggling.”

Madeline’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “She told you she was pregnant or you thought she was pregnant?”

“Aren’t you a sharp little thing? The former. No baby after a year, but she managed to get pregnant when my sperm had no chance of getting on a flight from Baghdad to help her out.”

Madeline barely suppressed a giggle. “You can’t find this funny!”

“I can now. Best way forward. For a while she tried to lie and say it was mine. She changed her mind pretty quickly when I mentioned DNA. Got in contact with our family solicitor and divorced her quick sharp. Only the finances got messy, and to make sure I didn’t have to deal with her any more, I gave her the house. It’s worth a good 2.8 million pounds. Fair is fair.”

He’d done it for his ex-wife’s unborn child. She could tell. Giving away a family heirloom in exchange for his pension seemed hugely unbalanced. No way was his pension worth as much as the house. He’d given it up for his ex-wife’s child to have a home. “What did she have? Boy or girl?”

“A little girl. Candace. She’s very happy.”

“What about you?” Madeline watched his face, looking for residual anger or love for his ex-wife. “How are you?”

“Unshackled,” he teased. “And not even nearly full. Do you have to get back soon, or can you spare dessert?”

“Chocolate brownies,” she suggested immediately.

He pointed a fork at her. “If I follow what you’re saying, you’re coming house hunting with me.”

“I...”

“No. You can’t defend my honour then leave me alone to pick up the broken pieces of my life.”

It was silly, because she truthfully didn’t know him, but if she went with him, she’d be imagining herself front and centre in his life. Where her things would go, what books she’d read in different chairs, if her furniture would fit in the living room, or the bedroom, if he would snuggle her at night or put a pillow between them to make sure she wouldn’t take up his space. She’d only had a brief touch of his arm, but nothing would be sweeter than using one of his bulked arms to lay her head on to sleep.

“Good!” he boomed when she didn’t answer. “You can come with me. And I’ll buy dinner.”

“All right, then.” Looking at him over her pint glass, she hesitated before blurting, “You don’t have to.”

“I told you.” His voice was low. “You’re my only friend left in London. Friends stick together. Friends with bullet holes in the bodies definitely stick together.”

“What? Where?”

Cain leaned back, biting on his bottom lip. “Nope. You have to earn that one.”

Oh god,
she thought, fighting a grin,
don’t let him break my heart into a million pieces. I don’t know how anyone would compete with him if he did...

A bus rolled across the street as they waited to cross, Madeline’s hand tucked into the crook of his elbow as she scanned traffic. Her resilience astounded him. That she’d fought through the mires of Rwanda to be grounded, successful, smart, savvy, and utterly beautiful was testament to that. Soldiers tended not to talk about tours unless it was with other soldiers. For some reason, Madeline unblocked the “keep schtum” gene, and he wanted to tell her anything and everything she wanted to know.

He took her hand from his forearm and linked it to his before strolling across the road and right in front of a harassed-looking woman behind the wheel of a 4x4. Madeline was hurrying after his strides to keep up.

“There’s no hurry!” she gasped as he hustled her back to her shop.

“Sorry. I do march rather than walk.” He slowed his pace to what he termed a granny crawl and took in the surrounding shops.
Tutti Fruitti
was well placed. Just off the main street and surrounded by complementary rather than competitive shops. Clever little thing.

“Will the estate agent come and pick us up or...” she trailed off.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m driving. Borrowing my father’s run around for a bit. He barely uses the other three.”

Madeline tucked a twist under her scarf. “You’re quite privileged, aren’t you?”

“In many ways, yes. Not many people come home to a few cars in the garage that they can borrow.”

“A few?”

“Five.”

“Who needs five cars?” she blurted.

He ticked them off his hand. “The Land Rover, the truck that pulls the horsebox, a Mercedes, a Jaguar, and my mother’s Bentley.”

“No one needs five cars.”

Cain gave a shrug. “They’re all old enough and ragged enough to be worthless in today’s value. I won’t say it’s not nice being privileged. I wouldn’t get free sweets otherwise.”

“Or free truffles,” she added.

“Or kisses.”

Madeline’s eyebrows drew together. “I don’t have anything called kisses...” Her voice trailed off as she took in their circumstances. That sweet chin of hers was balanced on the edge of his left hand, and his right cradled the small of her back. Until he’d touched her, he hadn’t fully appreciated just how badly he wanted to kiss her. He watched as the rise and fall of her chest increased in speed, mimicking his uneven breaths. Her mouth parted, and the flash of her pink tongue flicked off his brain switch. All instinct based, he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers. He’d only meant to kiss her goodbye. Or rather, see you later.

As soon as he tasted her, all his thoughts were on Madeline naked, underneath him, thighs parted and cradling him against her soaked sex. His hand moved from her chin to lightly stroke her face, the skin so soft beneath his fingers. He trailed his hand over her side, tracing the shape of her waist and the flare of her hips. Madeline moaned under his mouth, the sound sending a thrill over his body.

“Um,” she gasped. “Can we... Not in the street?”

He barely lifted his lips from hers to send her a frown. “Where?” With her lower body pressed to his, his mind transported him to the back room of her shop. He could sweep the chocolate aside, perch her on the edge of the table, and lift the skirts of her vintage dress. Within moments, he could be buried inside her, rocking them both to satisfaction.

She wiggled out of his arms, putting a foot between them. “Um, that’s enough.”

Being apart from her didn’t at all feel natural. “Disappointing.”

“Hmm. Thanks for lunch.”

“Shall I pick you up about half six?” he suggested, trying to regain some sense of normality. That hadn’t been a kiss. It had been a prelude to his whole future with her.

“Why are you kissing me?” she blurted.

It was possibly the most ridiculous question anyone had ever asked him. “Madeline,” he said through peals of laughter, “I want to do a lot more than just kiss you. Go back to work. I’ll see you soon.”

He waited for her to return to the shop. She did, looking back at him every other step until she was safely inside. Turning back to the main road, he walked to the train station, a good thirty minutes away. It didn’t occur to him that the reason people were looking at him strangely was because he was whistling. Happily and at full volume.

***

Madeline had changed twice in the back room of the shop while Caz gave a run down as to why she shouldn’t bother. All she wanted was to look nice. It had nothing to do with Cain. Mostly. In the last week, he’d called her, taken her email address, and forwarded some of the flats and houses to her that he’d had an eye on. It was overwhelming. Having been used to a sporadic letter here and there, she wasn’t sure how to take him being in contact with her so much.

“Soldiers tend to be whores.”

“Not listening,” she yelled, knocking over a box of chocolate discs. Hold on, was that the shop bell?

“They do. Worse than naval men. Girls in every city, let alone a port. They’re all kinky. You wouldn’t be into the sort of things they’re into.”

Madeline struggled with the zip of her dress. The material surrounding the zip was fraying at the edges, and she’d meant to replace it a few weeks ago, but it was so pretty and flattered her figure. “Be quiet!”

“I’ve heard they’re all bisexual and wank each other off to go to sleep.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say!” Madeline yelled. “Will you shut up?”

“That sounds prejudicial! What do you have against bis?”

“You’re talking rubbish,” Madeline fumed, opening the door and holding the front of the dress to her breasts. “It’s like saying all police officers are corrupt. All officials take bribes. All weathermen are liars.”

“Eh... Well, yeah.”

“You’re a pessimist.” Madeline fumed. “I like someone who understands me. If you don’t get it, I don’t care. It’s not your business.”

“I’m just worried about you!” Caz defended herself. “You’re like freaking Snow White. I feel like he’s going to take advantage of you.”