Vanguard (21 page)

“Thank you. Thank you for coming to find me. For saving me. I have not properly thanked you for this.”

She smiled and kissed him again. Even after a ravaging bout of illness, she could feel her desire for him simmering deep inside.

“I love you,” he said softly. “I have been in love with you for so long.” She drew in a sudden breath of surprise at his words. “I have done such a dreadful job of showing you how I feel,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth as he spoke. “I would not blame you if you did not wish to see me again after we return home. But I love you. I have always loved you. You have ruined me for other women,
mana mila
.”

“Maybe you have done a bad job of showing me,” Sophie answered. “I’m not sure I did any better. But I knew anyway. I’ve always known. I have never loved anyone else as I love you. We belong together, Michael. It just took us a little longer than most to find our way to each other.”

He kissed her again, and again, then they lost track of time. Eventually his stomach started to growl, making them laugh. Sophie sat on the bed and watched while he made himself a meal and ate it. They planned their departure for the next day. They talked.

She slept in his arms that night, wearing one of his t-shirts. It wasn’t the romantic night she had planned to have with the love of her life.

It was better.

Chapter 13

February 21, 2014

“Today is
WHAT
?!”

“February 21,” he repeated.

Sophie took a step backward and sat down on the bed. Commandant Jaros wanted Michael back on February 24. Somehow while she had been ill, she’d lost two days.

I don’t know how I’m going to do it.

She started to shake, and he was at her side in an instant.

“Relax. There was nothing you or I could do while you were ill. We can talk more about a plan on the drive home. Yes?” He ducked his head a little to see her face, and smiled at her.

She smiled weakly back. Michael was right. He frequently was, although she hated to admit it. To him or herself.

“Finished with breakfast?” he asked.

She had been allowed plain toast and sliced bananas with tea that morning, a step up from the mush of the day before. She nodded.

“Perhaps a shower now?”

Five minutes later, she stood under the spray, giving thanks for hot water and soap and marveling at how much better the shower made her feel. She turned to pick up the shampoo and screamed.

Michael leaned against the bathroom wall, just outside the tub. Naked. Sophie’s mouth popped open. She resisted the urge to rip back the shower curtain to get a better look.

“Sorry,
mana mila
,” he said sheepishly. “I wondered if I might join you?”

“Yes, please.” Her voice was a croak.

He stepped into the shower, and her eyes went as wide as her mouth. While she had seen most of his bits and pieces over the years, she’d never seen Michael completely naked. Her eyes started at the top and traveled down his body, taking in the patchwork of healing gashes and scars. The last several months had been rough on him, but he was still glorious.

She hissed when she saw the two stubbled patches where the defibrillator pads had stripped off his chest hair. The rest of his chest was lightly covered with black curls, his nipples standing out among them. Then her eyes dropped and stayed in the same place for so long that he waved a hand in front of his genitals to get her attention again.

“Hi.” He pointed to his face. “Remember me?”

“Sorry.” Sophie blushed, unable to tear her eyes away. “You look different than other men I’ve seen.”

“Different?” He looked down at himself. “What do you mean, different? Bad different?” A note of panic sounded in his voice.

“No! No, not at all. You’re beautiful!” Her entire upper body blushed red. “It’s just that all the naked guys I’ve ever seen were…” She made a snipping motion with her fingers.

“Oh!” He started to laugh as understanding sank in. “I am not circumcised. Is that it?” She nodded, embarrassed. “I am European, Sophie. Circumcision is not customary here, the way it once was in America.” He flashed his dimpled grin. “The equipment still works the same way, my sweet.” He looked both hopeful and embarrassed at the same time. “You can touch…I would like that very much if you did.”

Sophie hesitated, concerned for his health and her own. But his thick erection jutting out eagerly from his body said loud and clear that he was eager for attention.

She, on the other hand, knew she was nowhere near ready for action. But Michael naked, aroused and looking at her with a needy expression was more than she could resist. She put her hand on his chest and slid it down over his body. She felt every scar, every injury along the way. But underneath it all, his heart thudded under her hand.

He was alive. And now they belonged to each other forever.

Michael gasped as Sophie’s hand finally slipped down between his thighs and wrapped around his aching cock. A distant voice berated him for pushing himself on her before she’d fully recovered. But he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Part of it was physical need, but it had been the driving desire to connect with her intimately on every level that he had finally given into. Of course, now that he was here, naked with her, physical need was asserting itself very strongly indeed.

She explored him slowly at first, touching and stroking every inch. Michael desperately wanted to reciprocate, but he knew she wasn’t ready. He settled for feasting his eyes on her naked body for the first time.

Her skin was flushed pink from the heat of the shower, her rosy nipples tight and hard. His palms itched to cup her rounded breasts; he’d fantasized for years about what they’d look like, and they didn’t disappoint. His eyes wandered lower, taking in the wet triangle of bright red curls at the juncture of her thighs. Michael wished he could bury his face in there for at least a week.

He glanced up at her face. She was completely focused on his cock in her hand. The sight of her rubbing him up and down with such intensity nearly sent him over the edge. Sophie chose that moment to shift her grip on his erection, lavishing attention on the sensitive head of his penis. Swamped with sensation, Michael screwed his eyes shut and pushed himself greedily into her hand.

“So good,
mana mila
,” he moaned. “A little faster?” She obliged him, picking up the pace.

“Good?” He nodded, panting, feeling the tension building. It had been too long since he’d had any kind of release, and the feel of her stroking his overexcited cock was too much. His balls tightened. Unable to hold back any longer, he braced himself against the shower wall, then climaxed between their bodies with a helpless cry of pleasure.

“Oh God, Sophie.” He nuzzled into the crook of her shoulder, letting the hot water wash away the mess on both of them. “So good.”

She smiled, pleased and tired. Loving Michael had always been part of her fabric of being. Loving him physically felt extraordinary. However, she also felt like she might fall down soon if she didn’t get back to bed. She reached for the shampoo, which Michael plucked out of her trembling hands with a smile.

He poured some shampoo into his palm and turned her around, his strong hands working through her hair to lather it up. She sighed with delight as his fingers rubbed against her scalp for several minutes. Then he turned her and tipped her head back to rinse.

“That was nice,” she sighed. “Thank you.” He smiled and picked up a bar of soap.

“My pleasure.” He worked up a good lather between his hands and ran them over her shoulders, rubbing and massaging the skin. After two days of hell, Sophie felt like she’d landed in heaven. He cleaned every inch of her, front and back, ending up on his knees in front of her to wash all the way down to her toes and back up again.

She could have stood there forever, enjoying his attention. Unfortunately, the water started going cold. She squealed, turning the shower off. He dried her with a threadbare towel.

“That felt good.” She wrapped her arms around him, grateful for the support. “Thank you.”

“Next time, you will be well again, and I will do much more than wash you.”

His voice was heavy with promise, and she felt her nipples harden against his chest as a rush of desire flooded through her. She flushed, turning her head away from him to face the mirror. She looked at herself for the first time since she’d woken up.

“Oh.” She ducked out of his arms and peered into the mirror. “You took the stitches out of my forehead.”

“Yes, while you slept.” He seemed even less inclined to discuss it than she did, for which she was thankful. The moment passed, and he turned back to her with his sweetest smile, which made her knees even wobblier than they already were. As did the long kiss he planted on her mouth immediately after.

~~ - ~~

Michael went upstairs while Sophie rested. The shower had used up what little energy she had available. He returned, having thanked their hosts and given them more medication. They’d decided it would be best if Sophie had no more contact with them to reduce the risk of infection.

He gathered up their belongings and stripped the bed of its sheets, bagging them with the towels. Then he put the dirty dishes into the sink, and covered them with boiling water. He bagged the medical waste and tossed it beside their stuff. The bathroom he scrubbed down with bleach.

“There,” he said, stripping off his latex gloves and stuffing them into the garbage bag. “That will suffice.” He took a pen and paper, wrote a quick note and wrapped it around a stack of Soviet currency. He left the money sitting on the kitchen counter.

He looked up and saw Sophie gazing at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” she replied with a smile.

He makes breakfast. He cleans. He looks after me when I’m sick. He’s thoughtful. He’s sweet. Who are you, and what have you done with my angry, misogynistic friend Michael Nariovsky-Trent?

~~ - ~~

At Sophie’s request, Michael kept his speed and lane changes to a reasonable rate as they drove north. He found a news station on the radio for a quick check of traffic. She gazed out the window, drowsing, until the words “Orlisia,” “Soviet Republic,” and “United Nations” in the same report caught her attention. She sat up and glanced over at Michael, who was shifting his eyes between the radio and the road. He held his hand up, listening, his face blazing with emotion.

“The United Nations Security Council has broken its deadlock, passing a resolution to send a peacekeeping force Orlisia.” The Russian-speaking radio announcer read the news without emotion. “The president of the UN Security Council has condemned the Soviet Republic’s occupation of Orlisia and has named the Parnaas refugee camp as a key area of interest.”

The two of them screamed with joy. “Shit, watch the road!” she shouted as they swerved out of their lane.

He jerked the wheel back. “Where is your phone? Quickly, call my father. He will have more information.”

Sophie dialed Maxwell’s number with shaking fingers. The call went straight to voicemail, and she left a message asking him to call her back.

Michael pulled off at the next roadside stop that featured a gas station and restaurant. “I need a moment to calm down,” he said. “Otherwise, I will kill us both with my driving. Come, we will have a warm drink.” He settled her at a table in the restaurant, then went to buy drinks. A moment later, her phone rang. It was Maxwell, returning their call.

“We just heard.”

“Good news travels fast,” he said. “Obviously, we don’t have a lot of details yet, and it’ll be several weeks before troops are on the ground. But this is the beginning.” Michael appeared at Sophie’s side, handing her a tea.

“My father?” She nodded, and he reached eagerly for the phone.

“Your son wishes to speak with you.” She smiled and handed him the phone.

He kissed her before he took it, then wandered off, talking a mile a minute. She sipped her tea and watched him walk from one side of the room to the other. He used to do that in GYL when he had a big idea in his head. Michael couldn’t sit still when he was thinking.

“What did he say?” She took back the phone and accepted another kiss.

“Not much,” he said evasively. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Well, it will take some time to get troops into Orlisia. Right now, it is very much in the planning stages.” He paused. “There will be a press conference later today to announce who will lead the mission, which countries will participate, and so on. Are you ready to go?”

She blinked at the abrupt change of topic and nodded.

Back on the road, he asked many questions. What did Sophie know about Commandant Jaros? What did he spend his day doing? Did he work surrounded by guards, or was he more informal? What had she bribed the guards with? How secure was she in their ability to stay bought? The questions went on for nearly an hour. Then he lapsed into silence, his hands tapping constantly on the wheel. She could practically hear the gears grinding in his mind.