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Category:
Historical Fiction
ISBN-10: B0DR9TYTDR
Type: Fiction
Pages: 329
Copyright: Dec 22, 2024
ISBN-13: 9798869079299
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
Sgt. Sean Patrick McAroy is a hard-bitten, no-nonsense war-weary veteran who is well accustomed to difficult assignments.
Escorting a scientist through Nazi occupied France is his latest..
She’s just a dame, like any other and the sooner he can get her back to HQ the sooner she is out of his hair, and everything will be back to normal.
All he has to do Is keep it together, keep focused on the mission.
How hard can it be.
Excerpt
"Is it okay?" A soft whisper came from behind him, and he half turned, nodding to the girl who waited patiently in the shadows of the duct for the 'all clear'.
She ventured out slowly, finding a spot next to the man, and sat for a long moment, peering out on the picturesque scene below. "...It's almost as if they haven't been touched by the war." She voiced her thoughts. "Doesn't it look peaceful?"
McAroy looked again, trying to see the village through the eyes of anything but what he was...a soldier. "It's probably occupied."
"I hope not." Taylor sighed lightly. "What's on the agenda for today, Sarge?" She turned an inquiring glance his way. "If you intend we should climb that mountain, let me warn you in advance...I'm afraid of heights and I don't like goats."
"They're sheep."
"Whatever. They bite and I don't like them."
He scratched his head thoughtfully, letting it go. "See the dip between the ridges over there?" He pointed it out. "That's where we should be."
Her face fell for a moment. "Oh." Then she brightened somewhat. "Well...it's not so very far, is it. As the crow flies."
He almost smiled but didn't, going back to his map. He felt her stare, allowing it for a long spell, pretending to scope out the territory on the paper.
He glanced up, his gaze catching hers mid-stare. Something clicked for her, and she instantly smiled at him then downed her head the long hair falling about her face.
She fiddled with the hem of her dress then frowned over her leg, the scrape long and ugly looking. She brushed the area tentatively, then retracted her hand hastily. "Owwww."
"You should put something on that." He searched his utility pouch, coming up with a pre-packaged bandage.
"Oh, it's fine." She waved the pack aside. "It's just a scrape, but..." She smiled at him again. "...thanks."
He held her eyes willfully and then she blushed slightly, shifting her interest elsewhere.
"What were you looking at?" He tested a theory, man enough to want to do so.
"What?" She feigned ignorance. "Oh...the goats." She gestured. "I was looking at the goats." She cleared her throat gently. "...Why?"
"I meant before." He wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily. "...you were staring."
"Ohh." Her blush returned but she fought it down. "Well...yes, I suppose I was. Should I apologize?" She seemed troubled over her lapse in etiquette
"Depends." He felt in complete control of the conversation. It had been a long time since he attempted to test his prowess with the opposite sex.
The fact, she was suddenly awkward and demure, amused him but more so...it made him feel something he hadn't felt in forever.
And it felt damned good.
"What were you interested in?" He thought he knew, but he suddenly wanted to hear her say it.
Taylor was antsy and decidedly guilty. "I..didn't know I was staring." She clearly felt bad for the fact.
"But..." She cleared her throat gently, tucking a long strand behind her ear. She faced him squarely, her brow furrowed slightly, the green eyes scanning his face meticulously.
"Did you know that...eh..." She struggled with how to put it. "The beard." She motioned. "...it works for you...OH, not that I mean anything by that! I'm not being...forward or anything!"
She was suddenly very nervous and verging on 'upset'.
"Really...I'm not. I wasn't! I only mean..." She sought an explanation that would work, her mind 'working' frantically.
"Well...you must realize that you are a very handsome man, and I was just noticing..." She realized how that sounded and began again. "Not that I noticed...THAT!"
She made a face as in, as if she would notice something like...that.
"What I mean to say is, some men can't do the..eh...beard thing, that's all." She slowed her speech pattern, her mood dropping, the pretty face falling. "And now you think I'm a tart or something but..." She beseeched him 'get it'.
"I'm not...not really. Oh, sometimes I flirt a little but it's all in good, clean...decent..." She emphasized sternly. "Fun...not that I was flirting with YOU!"
McAroy turned his head, the smile erupting on his 'handsome' face.
Taylor let out a groan, covering her face with her hands. "Ohhh, geesh." She shook her head negatively. "I'm such an asswipe just like Logan says."
She leaned her elbow on a nearby rock, her hand covering her eyes for she was as yet, unable to look the guy in the eye. "I never know when to shut up!" She bemoaned her fallacy.
"I like your hair." The man made it easier for her, his tone low, soothing, his gaze steady confident.
He waited for her to find the courage she needed. It didn't take long.
"...You do?" The woman touched the tangled mass self-consciously. "If I comb it...it looks better." He was reminded, the large eyes filled with hope and a hesitancy he found appealing.
His eyes flicked the beautiful mass with masculine appreciation. He took the time to study her face as well, smudges and all.
"If I remember correctly..." He leaned, flicking at the black marks on her cheek with his forefinger. "Under all that dirt...you have a few freckles too."
She sat up straighter, her eyes shining with happiness. A decided tingle had traversed her entire body at the contact, and she could still feel his touch. "I...I do!" She smiled 'happily'. "Do...do you like freckles?"
Oh, she hoped beyond hope that he did!
The blue eyes lowered to her mouth and the Sgt....leaned.
Taylor was so shocked she hastily leaned back, her face comically...shocked, the pretty mouth agape, the eyes large and beguiling.
The man halted his 'advancement', moving slightly back. She clearly needed more time. He felt disappointed but resignation.
The soldier kept his features perfectly composed.
McAroy let the moment pass, sitting back into his former position.
He went back to reading his map but secretly, he needed a little time to let the emotions pass. He had wanted to kiss that pouty little mouth. He hadn't realized how much until...
"What are you..." Taylor was breathlessly...still...shocked. "Doing?"
He thought it had been self-explanatory so...he remained silent.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, glancing at the valley again, frowning over his dilemma. "It would be best to wait until night...it's too dangerous to just.."
"Why didn't you..." Darcy tried to arise to her knees but her knees were too damaged from the fall to allow such an unwise move so she...sat heavily alongside him, her face anxious, her eyes inquiringly...troubled. "Kiss me?"
She seemed thoroughly disappointed and a little vexed.
McAroy lifted a censored, cool gaze.
"Isn't that w-what you..." She realized, a lady would never have stated such a...
"I mean...I thought that was what you were going to..." She sat back, defeated and unhappy. And decidedly embarrassed.
She lifted a 'mean frown' for his perusal. "Well, I don't care one way or the other." Taylor fought back, her pride stung deeply by his supposed rejection.
She scratched her face because it still itched then took her sleeve and wiped the dried black marks off as best she could.
She scrubbed her face hard, glad to have something to busy herself with because a part of her wanted to kinda...cry.
But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction so...she didn't.
McAroy thought the problem through, having watched the girl the entire time it took for her to fall into her 'sullen' mode.
"...Come mere." He made his decision, laying his weapon aside, his features set.
She looked up hastily, her manner altering even more hastily.
She...arose slowly then cursed heatedly for she had put her weight on her knees again. "Owwww! Owwww...OWWWW!"
The man reached, lifting her bodily, opening his legs, making a place for her.
He deposited her where he needed her to be, keeping his left arm about her shoulder, allowing her to settle into his embrace in her own time.
She leaned against his thigh, her hand laying on his shirt front. He liked the feel of the warm flesh.
The lovely eyes observed him warily but, she smiled softly for him then lowered her gaze for a beat.
"...I lied." Her fingertips traced the tip of his pocket, and she leaned a bit closer. "...I did too care."
The green eyes lifted seeking his reaction.
The man's scowl was intimidating but she weathered the dark, brooding intensity.
His hand went into the lush thickness of her hair, his fingers curving gently to the back of her head. McAroy pulled her closer, his lips barely touching the soft, inviting curve of the full...sensual...mouth.
Ever so gently, he pressed lightly with his lips, feeling warmth and slightly wet heat that made his pulse jump erratically.
He enjoyed the increase of adrenalin which shot through his body, but more so, the soft, uniquely feminine moan which escaped Taylor's throat. She leaned into his chest, her arms reaching hesitantly, encircling his neckline for stability.
He tasted the sweetness of contact for a few moments, having kept the kiss gentle, almost...chaste.
He hated to break the mood, but something kept nagging at him.
He silently cursed his damned conscience, pulling back, reluctantly lifting his mouth from the delicious one he was staring at, even now. He lifted his gaze, the black spike of lashes framing the sea-green eyes mesmerizing his senses for a long beat.
Taylor was confused, not understanding his withdrawal. "...Did I...not do it right?"
"Ohh, no, baby..." She was assured in no uncertain terms, his voice lower than he could account for from such a simple kiss. "You did it...fine."
He had to bring the subject up though. He couldn't rest until it was clear in his head. "It's not that."
He was finding it more difficult than he imagined because all his body was telling him to do at this point was to kiss her again. "About Logan."
While he thought he understood the parameters of the situation between the two, he wasn't a hundred percent certain, so...
"OH..." Taylor seemed to relax. "Oh, no, Sarge." She was quick to reassure.
"I...I know we've given you grief and I don't always react so well, so it's my fault just as much as Logan's, but..." The words tumbled over each other in genuine effort to appease the man's temperament. "He can be such a flannel head, but I promise...hand to God, that I will try very...VERY hard not to cause anymore..."
"No." He stopped the rambling narrative, his tone gentle, his manner straight-forward. "That's not what I meant."
Taylor was baffled, the smooth forehead crinkling with doubt and worry. "...Then...what?"
Her breath smelled of spearmint gum. She was never without a pack, it seemed. That damned satchel she carried must be weighted down with the stuff. "You're not..." He chose the word carefully. "Together?"
The woman just wasn't getting his meaning.
"I don't trespass on another man's property." He made it crystal clear.
She digested the statement. "...Like with the goats?" She was entirely lost.
Sarge grinned retroactively, lifting his hand, rubbing the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. "...eh...no, baby. Not 'like with the goats'." He chuckled at her 'upset' face. "Do you have a thing for Logan? A romantic thing?"
She gasped, finally...FINALLY...getting it.
"I most certainly do NOT!" She tried to arise, her cheeks flaming scarlet. "Sweet Jesus! Is that what everyone is thinking?" She was ready to be pissed. "Is THAT. What YOU think?"
He gasped her arms when she would have pulled away from him, his tone and manner apologetic. "Okay." He soothed expertly, trying to salvage the 'moment'. "Alright."
"Logan is my..." She wasn't quite sure what 'Logan' was for to examine the relationship too closely was far too Freudian at this time, but... "My...friend!"
"I just needed clarification." His calm tone served to nullify her fears. Taylor settled, searching his features restlessly.
"Why?" She asked plaintively. "...Why did you need clarification?"
"Because." He told the truth, his gaze deepening sensually. "I was about to...cross the line."
"What line?" She demanded, getting antsy again, fearful he might not kiss her again if she didn't answer this damned 'pop quiz' correctly.
McAroy took his time in examining each facet of her face.
His hand reached, smoothing a few stray tendrils the wind had whipped across her cheek line. His touch was exquisitely gentle as it filtered along the side of her head, her hair feeling like silk between his fingers.
His touch electrified her body, she closed her eyes to the sensation as it swept along her nerve endings.
Taylor had to touch him back...or die.
She wasn't wanting to offend him though or make the wrong move. Not at this stage, so she allowed her fingers to touch his wrist, just behind his watch band.
She couldn't reach around the thickness but. Just to be allowed to touch his person without censor was a phenomenal feeling.
She leaned her face against the sleeve of his jacket which was frayed from wear around the cuff, she noted.
Her skin was warm and smooth, the alabaster complexion a perfect setting for the deep auburn hair.
He curled his fingers into a loose fist, clutching a cluster of those red curls, holding her stationary for his next move. "This...line."
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