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Authors: Tatiana March

Tags: #Contemporary

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BOOK: Home for a Soldier
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“And what promise might that be?”

“That I’d leave you alone when you
came back from Iraq.”

“What?” Rory stormed forward. He
shoved his hands under Grace’s arms and yanked her up to her feet. “Is that why
you’ve been sneaking around the apartment, keeping out of my way? Why you’re
staying out half the night with God knows who, and then inviting them up?”

“Orlando isn’t God-knows-who, he’s my
friend.”

“He isn’t your friend. He wants to
sleep with you.”

“Which is more than you want.”


More than I want?
” Rory’s
anger flared like a flame that licked inside him. He knew the situation was his
fault. He
had
been keeping his distance. It had taken the threat of other
men in Grace’s life to jolt him out of his isolation.

“I don’t want to sleep with you? Is
that what you think?” Not waiting for an answer, he hauled her close and crushed
his mouth to hers. For an instant, Grace went rigid, and he could feel her hands
pushing at his shoulders. Then her lips yielded beneath his, soft and pliant,
and she arched into him, sending a surge of lust through his senses.

“Are you blind or crazy?” he asked
when he released her.

“Neither. But you’re both if you
don’t understand how much you’ve been hurting me with your indifference.”

“Indifference?” Rory swallowed,
fighting for calm. “I’m not indifferent. I’ve been—” He released a slow breath.
“Preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied with what?” she asked
tartly.

“With trying to leave you alone. I
want you to forget that you ever made that promise to me. Do you understand?” He
set to undo the buttons on the front of Grace’s shirt, methodical and
determined. “But there’s another promise I want from you.”

“Which is?” Grace stared at him,
uncertainty furrowing her face.

“That you won’t sleep with another
man as long as we remain married. Will you promise me that?”

“Yes,” Grace said. Happiness soared
inside her as she tumbled into Rory’s arms. She clung to his broad shoulders,
reveling in the protection of his strength. The familiar musky male scent
tantalized her, weaving a ribbon of excitement along her nerves.

“Shall we go to bed?” she murmured.
Her eyes fluttered shut as a pair of hungry lips roamed her skin.

“No.”

Confused, Grace tried to pull back.
“Why not?”

“Because it will take too long to get
there.” Rory pushed her down to the sofa and continued his attack on her
clothing. He tugged at her jeans, pulled up her bra.

The sensual heat that licked through
Grace burst into flames of impatience. She wriggled her hips to help him slide
the denim down her legs, then slapped his hand away and unhooked the bra
herself.

The weeks of waiting, worrying about
him, caring for him, all had led to this moment, and Grace found she wanted Rory
with a force that staggered her.
Now. Inside her
. Desperation to renew
the physical bond between them expanded in her heart, until the pulsing beat of
her blood thundered in her ears.

Rory bent over her and ran his hands
the length of her body, from her shoulders to her waist, and past her panties
down her legs.

“I’ve missed you,” he told her on a
husky breath. “I’ve been a fool to keep away from you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” She caught the
waistband of his jeans and undid the button, then tried to slide down the zipper
and yank the sturdy fabric over his muscled thighs.

Rory straightened, his eyes not
leaving hers as he took over the task, discarded his clothing and stood before
her. His erection jutted out from a thicket of dark curls, heavy and strong,
throbbing with power that sent a shiver of remembered pleasures along her spine.

Rory held out a hand and pulled her
to her feet. When Grace stood facing him, he dropped to his knees and slid her
panties down her legs, pressing hot kisses over her belly. Sparks radiated for
from each point of contact, until the fire inside her grew into a roar that
stripped away any doubt over the depth of her feelings for him.

The love she felt for him pulsed
through her fingers as she curled her hands over his shoulders and clutched the
hard muscles. Love blossomed in her smile as she studied him, bent to the task
of undressing her, the coppery hair now in desperate need of a cut. Love
shimmered like a shield around her, making her feel invincible, as long as Rory
held her in his embrace.

Urging each of her feet to rise a
fraction in turn, Rory freed the panties and tossed the scrap of cotton aside.
Inch by inch, he swept his fingers along the backs of her legs, gliding over the
smooth taper of the calf, lingering at the sensitive hollow behind the knee.

With a murmured command, and the
pressure of his hand, he urged her legs to part. Obediently, Grace took a
sideways step to offer him better access. Changing his position, Rory propped
one arm against the edge of the sofa and trailed his free hand along her inner
thigh.

Eyes closed, Grace concentrated on
the light touch that tempted and teased and promised. Her ragged breathing
deepened to a low moan of pleasure. And then, when Rory reached his destination,
the heat inside her broke free.


Now.
” The word came out on
throaty rasp.

Curling his hands around her waist,
Rory moved her aside so he could settle on the sofa, half-sitting, half
stretched out on his back. The powerful shaft of his erection jutted high
against his ridged abdomen, and Grace instantly understood the invitation
conveyed by his position. In one fluid move, she climbed up to straddle him. Her
knees sank into the sofa cushions as she leaned to kiss his chest, picking out
each fading scar in turn.

“My poor darling,” she muttered.

“I need you, Grace,” Rory said, his
voice rough.

“You have me,” she assured him, and
fought the yearning to say more.

His hands returned to her waist and
guided her into place.

“Wait. Birth control,” she said and
stared down at him.

“Does it matter?” Rory asked. His
gaze held hers as he waited for the answer.

The implication that Rory might not
care if she fell pregnant with his child startled Grace out of her dreamy haze.
“Yes,” she whispered. “It matters. For now.”

“For now,” he conceded. “We’ll talk
about it later.” With an impatient shrug, he sprinted up, took a step away, then
turned and scooped her into his arms.

“Your scars,” she protested. “They’ll
hurt if you carry me.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to let
you out of my sight.”

He carried her to his bedroom and
lowered her on the neatly made narrow bed. While he got ready, Grace tugged at
the covers to release them and slip beneath.

“No,” Rory told her and motioned her
to move aside so he could lie down beside her. “You on top of me, like you were
going to. I want you to make love to me, Grace.”

She straddled him once more, her
heart tender at the signs of hurt that marred his strong body. She had thought
Rory invincible, hadn’t understood the deep inner struggles that kept him away
from her. Slowly, she lowered herself around him, taking him in, easing his
rigid shaft inside her passage, opening her heart and mind to him at the same
time as she invited him to penetrate her body.

Awareness that he needed her
shimmered in her thoughts like a golden promise of a happy future. He might not
be ready to talk about love, but with patience, she would release the emotions
he kept locked away.

“Grace.” He murmured her name, lifted
his hips to get closer to her.

She rose on her knees and sank down
again. A glorious sensation of being filled by him throbbed inside her. She
lifted her arms high up in the air and linked her hands together while her body
found a rhythm of exotic dance over him. The thrust and drag built a pressure
that coiled her body into an arch, until she rocked over him, her head thrown
back, her eyes closed tight.

I love you
.
The words rang through her mind but she clamped her lips between her teeth to
keep them unsaid, her cautious mind not letting go. She knew that she hadn’t
imagined the current of emotion pulsing between them, but she needed some
reassurance, however slight, that he loved her too.

“Grace,” Rory murmured again. His
hands clasped her waist, urging her deeper over him. He held her still and then
flexed his hips, stamping his own speed and strength onto her movements, until
the tension inside her peaked and broke. Grace shuddered over him, would have
slumped over his chest if he hadn’t held her still while he surged in one final
thrust into her.

Beneath her, his body bowed and
bucked in a violent release, and she remained poised over him, straddling him,
her shoulders braced, until both of them grew still.

“Are you cold?” Rory ask a few
moments later.

Grace sprawled beside him, her body
molding against the solid contours of his. “Yes,” she replied in a drowsy
mumble.

He wrapped his arms around her and
held her tight.

Grace leaned up on one elbow and
studied Rory’s face. “We need to get under the covers before we drift off. Or we
could move into my bed. It’s bigger than yours.”

He released his hold around her and
brushed her hair back from her face. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Grace.
I’ll keep you awake, and you have work tomorrow.” Lifting his shoulders, he
planted a kiss on the side of her face. “We’ll try sleeping together this
weekend, when you don’t have to get up early.”

He eased her upward and away from
him. Cool air swept along Grace’s skin as their bodies drew apart. Unable to
find anything to say, she retreated in silence to the living room, where she
picked up her discarded clothing from the floor.

Terror seized her at the feeling of
loneliness that invaded her. She folded Rory’s jeans and sweater into a neat
pile on the sofa, struggling to hold back tears. The harsh truth dawned on her.
How could she hope to fight for Rory’s love, when she even lacked the courage to
deliver his clothes into his bedroom without an invitation?

Loving Rory made her vulnerable. His
silence after he returned injured from Iraq had caused her weeks of misery, and
just now, he had hurt her with his rejection. If she tried to win his love,
every day she would have to live with the fear that he might shut her out again.

If she gave him too much power, he
could break her heart.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 
 

 

During the night, a muffled cry awoke
Grace in the darkness.


Laura!

She lay tense in her bed and
listened. The name echoed again from Rory’s room. Her eyes closed tight, but the
tears squeezed out to trickle down her face. It was no use. He might need her,
but it wasn’t enough.

She wanted to be loved.

The comment made by Rory’s friend
Karim while they danced at the wedding celebration in Las Vegas rose in her
mind.

Rory must have had his heart
shattered in the past
.

It appeared that Rory’s love belonged
to someone else.

In the morning, a pale and haunted
reflection faced Grace in the bathroom mirror, and she knew she couldn’t
continue living in the apartment. She got ready for work, her mind dull and her
body so clumsy with tension that her fingers struggled to fasten the row of tiny
buttons on the front of her grey linen dress. Then she set off to walk through
the humid summer heat to the offices of Mayfield Investments.

“Is it all right if I take the
afternoon off?” she asked her boss Stuart Ashton. “And I’d like next week off,
too. I’m up to date with the deadlines.”

“Sure.” He sent her a searching look,
but made no comment.

A cloud of numbness descended over
Grace. She had made her decision, and now it was imperative that she turned off
her emotions. Otherwise, it would hurt too much to follow through with what she
knew she must do.

She returned home in the middle of
the afternoon, when she knew Rory would be out for an appointment with the
physiotherapist. The sense of loss made every step an effort, each simple task
an obstacle to conquer. She tried calling Debbie first, and then Doug, but
couldn’t reach either. In the end, she dialed Orlando’s cell phone.

“Did you talk to Debbie?” he asked as
soon as he heard her voice. “Is she willing to see me?”

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to
her yet,” Grace said listlessly. “But I need a favor. Can you pick me up in your
car? I need to move out. And I need somewhere to stay until I find an apartment
to rent.”

Orlando spoke after a pause. “Is the
jealous husband throwing you out because of me? Do you want me to explain to him
that you’re helping me to get Debbie back?”

BOOK: Home for a Soldier
10.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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