Seduced by the Soldier

by Melia Alexander

  But now that the shoot was over and they were settled in their overnight extended stay location, Zandra was forced to face facts. Somewhere over the last couple of days, Blake intrigued the hell out of her. Or maybe it was just because it’d been awhile since she’d been with a man. Either way, her attraction to her travel partner was bad. Very. Bad.

  Sure, the guy was intelligent and caught on quickly, anticipating what her lighting needs were or offering suggestions on how she could get a better shot. Once or twice she’d had to agree that he was right. He even graciously hauled her stuff around and kept an eye on her backpack if she needed to do something as silly as climb a rock.

  Despite all of that, it was annoying. Was there anything the guy couldn’t do?

  “You mind chopping the carrots?” Blake asked.

  Yeah, then there was the fact the guy could cook on top of it all. Really, couldn’t she catch a break somewhere along the way? “Sure.”

  “So, the best way to cook a barbacoa is low and slow,” Blake told her. “That way the meat’s tender and juicy and tastes even better than what’s served at a lot of restaurants, if I do say so myself.”

  “Uh-huh.” She washed her hands. “So how come we’re having steak instead of that?”

  “No blender, no CrockPot, not enough time.”

  “All good points,” she said, chopping the top off a carrot. “But now it seems like you’re just teasing me with how good your barbacoa is.”

  “I promise to make it for you…one day,” he said then shrugged. “Maybe before I PCS out. Jackson might be back by then.”

  Permanent change of station. Right. Army-speak for moving to a different base and yet another reason not to get involved with Blake. The Army owned him, and while Zandra didn’t know enough about how the Army planned things, if her brother’s tour schedules were any indication, a soldier didn’t exactly get to choose where he went.

  “How’d you and Jackson get to be friends, anyway? All I remember is that one day, you showed up at our house and it’s like you’ve always been around.”

  He threw her his signature charming grin, and Zandra’s heart did this funky skip, the zap of electricity arcing through her like he’d touched her in all the places that craved him.

  Bad thought. Very, very bad thought.

  Or maybe, actually, a good one?

  God, now she was thinking the way he might. Of course, it was a bad thought. Nothing good could come out of any sort of a relationship with Blake that went beyond friendship.

  But did it have to go beyond friendship?

  The real question was, could she handle a physical relationship with Blake even if she knew it wouldn’t amount to anything?

  “I’ll take that as a good thing.”

  Startled, she looked up from the last carrot she was slicing into rounds and into his gorgeous brown eyes. “Huh?”

  A corner of his mouth quirked up. “How I met Jackson,” he reminded her. “You said I just showed up one day and seemed to be around ever since.”

  “Oh, right.” That’d teach her to daydream while in the middle of a conversation. She shrugged, feigning ambivalence. “I didn’t notice anything other than you seemed to be around.”

  “Ouch.” He squinted and stopped chopping. “For the record, that’s painful for a guy to hear.”

  “You’ll live.”

  “Barely.”

  “So, go on,” she prompted. “Tell me how you guys became friends.”

  “It was a dark and stormy night…”

  She rolled her eyes. “Jeez. Spare me all the gory details.”

  “No, really, it was a dark and stormy night. Jackson had just finished football practice, so the two of us were going to grab a bite when he realized he’d lost his car keys. We went back to look for them and had rounded the corner to the football field by the locker rooms. There was this kid, Tom, who was backed up against the wall, with this bully threatening him.

  “Seems that Tom came from a wealthy family, and the bully wanted his allowance.” Blake shrugged. “Probably didn’t help that he bragged about it more than he should’ve. Anyway, there weren’t any adults around, and this kid had a history of getting away with his bullying, so let’s just say Jackson and I took matters into our own hands.”

  “And you ended up in detention for a couple of days. I remember now. My brother refused to tell my parents exactly what’d happened.”

  “It’s a code of honor thing. And for the record, the bully got expelled from school once we pulled all the facts together for the principal.” He scraped the carrots off the cutting board and into a bowl. “That’s when I finalized my plans to be in a career where I could see that justice was done.”

  “Wait. Let me guess: you wanted to be a superhero.”

  “Those who need defending don’t need a superhero. They just need enough people to step up and do the right thing.” He said it so quietly that she knew this revelation was big. Huge, even…

  “This is why you went military,” she said.

  “Yeah.” His gaze held hers, a glint of something in them. “And that’s why I’m going to law school, too.”

  Law school? She raised an eyebrow. What else didn’t she know about him? “What made you decide that? I mean, not that I don’t think you can’t do it.”

  He frowned and measured spices into a bowl, his movements slow, methodical, like he was weighing his words as carefully as he spooned the spices. “I knew when I was a kid that I wanted to go to law school. My dad was killed by a couple of thugs, and I knew I wanted to grow up and put the bad guys away, I wanted to protect the world from them.”

  He’d been through all that as a kid? That he had such depth plucked at something deep inside her.

  He grinned, and the mood shifted as he shook his head. “Yeah, well, I don’t need to advertise it. Besides, Mom’s got a couple more years of med school, then once she’s in the residency program, it’ll be my turn.”

  Wow.

  Zandra stared.

  She was beginning to discover the different facets of Blake Monroe: good friend, patient traveler, caring son, great kisser. Definitely a great kisser.

  “So you want to go to law school like my dad did to defend the defenseless?”

  Really, it made perfect sense.

  “More like I want to see to it that justice is served,” Blake replied after a moment. “That kid was scared. He didn’t do anything, didn’t hurt anyone, yet some bully thought it’d be okay to forcibly take something from him. That’s just plain wrong.

  “I’m not naive enough to think I can save the world,” he added. “But I’m not standing around waiting for someone else to do it, either.”

  Well, damn. What was she supposed to say so it didn’t sound like she was being too mushy? But was he serious about any of it?

  The intensity in his eyes was something she’d never seen before. This belief, this calling he had to bring justice to the world, was it a short-term deal? Given how long it’d been since he’d graduated high school, not likely. No, Blake was committed to protecting those unable to protect themselves.

  Damn it to hell and back.

  Zandra stared at Blake as he seasoned the steaks. Somehow, some way, he’d managed to chip away at the protective screen around her heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Blake wasn’t quite sure what the hell prompted him to spill his guts this time, but there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to take it back now. She continued to have this effect on him, and it was unsettling as hell.

  Or was it comforting?

  He wasn’t ready to examine how he felt close enough to decide which one. Not yet.

  Thankfully, Zandra hadn’t brought it up once they’d sat down to eat, although he’d been more than prepared to shut down the conversation.

  Now he glanced across the hot
el room kitchen as she walked in, DVD case in hand. “Found something in the hotel library,” she said. “I hope it’s good.”

  He cleared his throat as he put away the last of the dinner dishes. “Good or not, all that matters is the translation. Any movie will do. It’s what I did to learn different languages wherever I was posted. Would you trust me on this?”

  “Okay, fine.” She held up the TV remote control. “Honestly, though, I can’t tell what it’s even about, so I’m telling you right now, if it’s a horror movie, I’m out unless you want me sleeping next to you tonight.”

  He snapped his gaze toward her and caught the moment when her words sank into her brain. A bright shade of pink flushed her cheeks, and she blinked a couple of times. “I mean…ummmm…that is…”

  “Yes?” He crossed his arms. “Go on, I’m listening.”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  “Yep. And enjoying every second of it.” He grinned. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  “How about ignore you? I should probably put this away.” She picked up a discarded T-shirt, stood from where she’d been perched on the edge of the blue sofa, and tossed the shirt across the room and onto her bed.

  He chuckled. “You’re such a rebel. What would your mother say now that you’re such a slob?”

  She tilted her head and gave him a mock glare and raised her chin. “I’m going to make some popcorn.”

  Ugh. He hated popcorn, but there was no way she’d know that. Besides, there were worse things in the world than popcorn. He hung a kitchen towel on the oven’s handle and turned as she pulled a package out of the cupboard.

  “Good thing I went to the store with you or we might not be having this tonight.” She opened up one end of the package and slid a bag out.

  “Yeah, that would’ve been a disaster.”

  “You’re mocking me now.”

  “What was your first clue?”

  “Funny guy.”

  He laughed. “Seriously, we just had dinner. You can’t be hungry already.”

  “I’m not, but what’s a movie without popcorn?”

  “Ummm…a movie?”

  “An incomplete experience.”

  “Says you.”

  “Says a lot of people.” She pushed some buttons on the microwave. “I’m beginning to get the impression that you don’t like popcorn, but that’s impossible. Everyone loves popcorn.”

  “I don’t.”

  She leaned a hip on the counter and regarded him with cool, assessing eyes. “And why not?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  She leaned forward as if imparting earth-shattering news. “So humor me.”

  He crossed his arms and saw the challenge in her eyes. Why the hell not? “When I was a kid, my mom worked more than one job.”

  “I know. You’d told me. That’s when you’d learned to cook.”

  “Well, you’re assuming there was something to cook.” When she stared at him blankly, he continued. “She was a single mom with two kids to feed. Sometimes she didn’t have enough to get us through the month, so she bought popcorn. Not the kind you stick in the microwave—that kind was too expensive—but the kind you did on the stove. Let’s just say I ate a lot of popcorn when I was growing up,” he said. “So I don’t much care for it now.”

  Yeah, okay, that was putting it mildly. Truth be told, he hated the taste of popcorn, could barely stand the smell, too, and while he realized his distaste wasn’t logical, in a sad way it kind of was.

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “We don’t have to have popcorn tonight,” she quickly said, turning toward the microwave.

  “Don’t be silly. Go ahead and have your popcorn. I promise I’m okay with it.”

  That was a logical response, a way of laying the past to rest and focusing on the future. Did that even make sense? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he’d run with it for now.

  She tilted her head to one side and stared at him like she was trying to make up her mind one way or the other.

  “Honestly, Zandra, have the popcorn. I promise it won’t push me over the edge.”

  She lifted a shoulder in a shrug that caused her short T-shirt to draw up and reveal a small expanse of skin. “Okay.”

  “I’m sure you won’t be offended if I choose not to have any.”

  “Of course not.”

  Blake still pondered the exchange as they sat down to watch the movie a few minutes later, a bowl of popcorn on Zandra’s lap. He tended to carefully monitor his words, tended to keep his private life very private, yet in the space of a few days, Zandra seemed to have changed all that…and he didn’t feel weird about it, either.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded and chewed.

  “Are you sure you got enough at dinner? Because you’re shoveling the popcorn in pretty good.” It was actually nice to be around a woman who wasn’t afraid to eat. Even if it was popcorn.

  She threw a kernel at him. “Hit ‘play’ already.”

  The movie started easily enough with a woman at the stove wearing an apron and a pair of high heels. Unfortunately, that was all she was wearing…and then the milkman walked in…

  Zandra coughed and scrambled for the remote, nearly spilling the entire contents of the bowl.

  He turned his head just far enough to catch her gaze. “Did you honestly not know this was a porn flick when you chose it, or are you trying to seduce me?”

  She whipped her gaze toward him, eyes wide. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing.” She reached for the DVD box between them. “Does this look like a porn flick to you?”

  A woman stood by a stove stirring a pot with a small smile on her face.

  “She’s fully clothed, as far as I can tell, and there’s nothing on the jacket that even remotely suggests it’s a porn movie. And for the record, it’s not like you offered to go downstairs and pick something out.”

  “Huh. You have a point. On both counts,” he added at the glare she shot him. “I don’t suppose you want to keep watching this?”

  She stood and walked toward the TV. “Oh, gee, let me think. No.”

  He chuckled. “Well, put on something else or do you not trust yourself?”

  “Keep it up and I’ll throw this remote at you.”

  “You sure are cute when you’re trying to be mean.”

  “Who’s trying?” she muttered.

  He grinned and leaned back, his feet on the coffee table. This was the kind of relaxing evening he’d imagine sharing with a woman one day. Chilling with a movie on after dinner. The feeling was very…pleasant.

  Within a few minutes, she resumed her place next to him. “No subtitles,” she observed between bites. “How’s your German again?”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m good to give it a try.” Not that he understood much beyond a few phrases, but she didn’t need to know that.

  The scene had two men in it, at a bar. Well, that narrowed it down some. “Huh, that’s interesting.”

  Zandra sat up and leaned forward. “What is?”

  “That guy, the one on the left, he’s a spy.”

  “He doesn’t look like a spy.”

  “Do you even know what spies look like? They’re supposed to blend in wherever they go, assume the part of whatever role they’ve been assigned. They don’t exactly walk around announcing themselves. I’m guessing it has something to do with self-preservation.”

  “Oh, right. That self-preservation thing again. Good point,” she conceded.

  He forced his face and tone to remain neutral. “He wants out of the spy business, but his friend there, the one on the left, brings up a good point. Righty wouldn’t know what to do if he wasn’t in the spy business. After all, it’s not like there’s a market for guys who know how to eavesdrop and
sell that information on the black market.”

  “Actually, there probably is.”

  “Hey, who’s translating here? Me or you?”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet.” She turned her gaze to the screen. “Now what’s he saying?”

  “He says he’d only meant to be in it long enough to put his mom through medical school, but then he’d planned to go back to school himself.”

  “You don’t say?” She nodded gravely. “Sounds like he’s a really good man.”

  “Oh, he is. He’s the best.” Blake raised his chin toward the screen. “That’s what his buddy just told him.”

  “I bet family’s important to Righty, too, huh?”

  “Yep. Family is all that matters. Doing anything he can to help his mom out, to help his sister out, that’s what he lives for.”

  Damn it, what the fuck was wrong with him? He wasn’t normally chatty about his life and generally preferred to live it with his cards held close to his chest. But somehow, tonight, with Zandra, it felt…right.

  She chuckled. “You’re really something, you know that?”

  “Yeah, women tell me that all the time.” Unsolicited, at that.

  She swatted him across the arm. “Really? I’m trying to be serious here.”

  “So am I.” He grinned when she laughed out loud. “Is it my fault you don’t appreciate what other women do?”

  “What I’m trying to say is that you’re a really nice man.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Let’s just say your movie translation helped me figure it out.”

  “Oh?”

  “Like it wasn’t obvious you were talking about yourself.” She grinned. “You’re a nice man, Blake, so just own it already, okay?”

  Could he own it?

  God, he wanted to, if for nothing else than to see the light in Zandra’s eyes. The problem was that he was so thoroughly screwed, and it somehow didn’t matter to him. At. All.

  What the actual fuck?

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What’s happening here?”