Chapter Twenty-Six
Holy shit.
Blake abandoned his backpack. He had no fucking idea if goats were prone to killing people, but he sure as fuck wasn’t taking a chance.
Already on the ground, Zandra scrambled backward on all fours like a floundering crab. “Blake.”
“Stay behind me,” he said sharply, coming between her and the once docile Lisette. “No matter what move I make, stay behind me. Got that?”
“O-okay.” No surprise her voice shook. Who’d have expected that a goat would fucking attack?
“I’m going to back us toward the gate. You ready?”
“Yeah.”
He held the tripod legs, extending it like a weapon. Some weapon. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t hold up against a charging goat, but Lisette didn’t need to know that.
He waved his free arm, keeping his weapon pointed toward the goat, who seemed determined to get to Zandra. “Keep your distance, Lisette. I promise she doesn’t want anything to do with your guy beyond taking pictures of the two of you.”
What the fuck?
He was talking to a goddamned goat and holding a makeshift weapon. Good thing his Army buddies couldn’t see him now.
Lisette flared her nostrils and made a sound akin to a honking horn. But then she backed up from him, and based on what he’d seen her do earlier, this wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
They circled each other like a stand-off, and he heard Billy bleating behind him along with some serious fence rattling. Blake tensed. The goat was probably giving her attack strategies or something. Or maybe Billy figured his female was threatened so he’d tear the fence down. That wouldn’t be good, either.
Movement caught his eye behind Lisette, toward the gate they’d entered from, but he didn’t acknowledge it, focusing instead on the wide-eyed stare of the four-legged creature that seemed determined to take Zandra down.
Not on my watch.
It was bad enough the goat had gotten a good run at her. She appeared to be fine, but still…
Behind Lisette, Jean-Paul made a brisk movement, but there was no way Blake was taking his eyes off the jealous goat. Whatever the guy had planned, Blake was determined to keep the goat distracted.
The Frenchman uttered a few words, enough to make Lisette’s ears turn in his direction. A goat that understood French? The idea was preposterous to Blake’s logical brain, but at this point, it didn’t matter. He just wanted to get Zandra out of here.
And while he wasn’t quite sure how Jean-Paul managed it, the goat turned and trotted toward the fence where he and Billy waited for her.
As far as experiences went, this ranked right up there as one of the most memorable. And the most ridiculous. Who the hell got attacked by a goat? Especially by a goat who seemed to be setting up some sort of a hookup with her goat boyfriend?
“You need to listen to me before you get hurt.”
The words were uttered so casually, but irritation battled with panic and won. “I don’t need to be protected.”
Zandra clutched her camera close, adrenaline racing through her. She was shaken, no doubt about it, and she could’ve been seriously injured…but she wasn’t. She was fine.
“Oh, yeah?” He crossed his arms and glared at her. “And what if I hadn’t been here just now? What if Lisette hadn’t let up?”
“She’s not all that big. She just startled me, that’s all.”
“She knocked you down, didn’t she?” Blake stalked toward her, all two hundred pounds of muscled control. “What did you expect me to do, Zandra? Stand around and watch her trample you? Maybe turn around and walk away while you handled things?”
There was an edge to his voice, a desperation that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was there nonetheless. He cared. Fiercely. She saw that in the way he protected his mother, her brother, her. The knowledge tore down the last defense she was sure was firmly nailed into place.
And that’s when it struck her faster than a jealous female goat on the attack. Zandra had gone and done it. She’d barely won her freedom, won the ability to direct her life, and now she’d fallen for a man who had the power to distract her from what she wanted, from what she’d always wanted: to focus on her own needs and not worry about how her life would impact anyone else’s. Especially Blake’s.
Panic flowed through her, as heavy as the cheese fondue they’d had for dinner last night.
“I could’ve done this trip on my own, Blake. I didn’t need you.” Oh God. She was being unreasonable, and she knew it, yet she seemed powerless to take the words back. “I don’t need you.” She could do life on her own, wanted to do life on her own.
“You’re not doing another video now, are you?”
“Better,” she muttered, poking at the screen. “I’m taking the next train out.”
“Hey.” He gently turned her to face him. “What’s going on? This isn’t like you.”
“Or maybe it is.”
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. And if she stared into his eyes for much longer, there was a better than good chance Zandra would change her mind, might actually come up with some compromise just to stay with him. She couldn’t do that to herself.
“Look,” she said, fighting to keep her tone even. “I need to focus on my own life. I can’t worry about you or what you think, act, or feel. That’s not my job.” She stomped toward the open gate. She needed to get away from Blake, needed to put some distance between them.
She stared at her cell phone. There were numbers and letters and something that was supposed to be the train schedule. But what the hell was it even saying? She stopped beside the backpack she’d abandoned before entering the pen as a rush of dejection flowed through her, unearthing every shred of doubt she was sure she’d stomped out weeks ago. She tried to stuff them back, took deep breaths, and concentrated on the blue of the sky, the bleating of the goats, the chatter of farm workers who passed by.
What good was it? What good was any of it if she couldn’t figure out something as common as a train schedule?
“Zandra? Are you all right?”
She waved Blake off. “I’m fine,” she said, infusing every ounce of determination into her tone.
“You don’t look fine.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “What’s wrong now?”
The concern in his voice reached out to her, made her want to lean on him, lean into him. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She swallowed, took a deep breath, and stared into his eyes, and the caring she saw in them nearly undid her. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” He frowned. “I’m not following you.”
She held out her phone. “This. Almost two weeks of taking the train and I can’t even figure out the stupid schedule, let alone which section of the train we’re supposed to be in or even where our seats are supposed to be on the damned thing.”
God. If she couldn’t figure out something that people all over the world did every single day, how the hell was she going to navigate life? Simple: she wasn’t.
“I’m a complete failure.” Maybe she was continuing to be unreasonable, but frustration spilled over almost as fast as the tears that trailed down her face. “I’m going to have to be an accountant the rest of my life.”
And that was the worst of it. Everything she’d worked for, every battle she’d fought to get this far—the endless hours of walking the streets of Seattle, of taking shots of bakeries and homeless tent camps, of even the damned birds that dared scoop down on patrons at outdoor restaurants and food trucks. None of it meant anything in the end.
She’d failed.
“Hey. So you can’t figure out a train schedule. So what? That doesn’t mean you’re failing at anything.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not afraid of failing at anything. You’ve got it all handled, all under control. Everything from
what you do for the Army to what you’re going to do once you’re out of the Army.” She swiped at her tears. “Well, guess what, Blake? We’re not all built like you. Not everyone is perfect.”
“You’re perfect to me.”
The tears fell faster at the quietly spoken words. Maybe, but the fact remained he wasn’t perfect for her. Not with where they were in their lives. It’d only be a matter of time before they were both miserable.
She raised her head and caught his gaze, caught the small smile that tinged his handsome face. “I mean it, Zandra.” He swiped her tears away with his thumb and, hands on her shoulders, drew a deep breath, gazing at the cloudless sky like he was collecting his thoughts. “This time with you, it’s been really special, because you’re special.”
“I am?”
“You are.” He pulled her into a gentle hug, and all the reasons to walk away seemed to have escaped her. “I promise you are.”
Their gazes locked, and there was that fuzzy feeling again, the one that made her think that just because they weren’t together, together didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy each other’s company.
At least, that’s what she told herself as she took a deep breath and held out her phone with the train schedule still on the screen. “Would you please show me one more time how to read this thing?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Blake took a deep breath and eased the tension out of his shoulders. He glanced at his companion as the train pulled into Stuttgart. “See? I told you you could figure out the train schedule.” He squeezed her hand and smiled.
“I guess you were right.” She flashed her megawatt grin at him, and his chest tightened.
He wasn’t sure what the hell had happened back with the goats, had yet to figure out why she’d freaked, although it was likely from shock or something. She seemed better now. “You really are beautiful when you smile.” The words flowed out of him smoothly, as naturally as if he’d uttered them forever.
“Thank you.” She tilted her head to one side. “Your smile isn’t so bad, either.”
People rushed past them, and for the first time in forever, Blake didn’t want to hurry, didn’t want to rush to the next stop, the next destination. No. Instead, he wanted time to slow down, stand still, even. Because tonight was it. Their last night together.
His chest tightened even more. Probably indigestion from the pizza they’d had before they’d boarded the train from France.
“Oh,” she said as she bumped into him. “Sorry. I tripped.”
“No worries. I’m tougher than I look.” At least, physically he was.
He pointed toward King’s Square and the crowd of people sitting on blankets and enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. “There’s supposed to be some sort of concert tonight.”
“You mean, like what’s advertised on that huge billboard at the corner?”
“Oh, you can read. I forgot that.”
She shrugged. “It’s a tough skill, but I somehow mastered it.”
Their shared laughter, her smile, the easygoing vibe they shared—this was the stuff he’d remember from their time together. This was what he’d have, and it’d be enough.
…
They slowly wandered through Stuttgart toward the hotel, and a sense of the inevitable swamped over Zandra. One night. One last night together.
She sucked in a deep breath then held it a moment before breathing out. After the incident at the goat farm, their unspoken truce was welcomed, the afternoon more enjoyable than she’d thought possible.
In less than twenty-four hours, she’d be on a flight to Seattle—without Blake.
He silently opened the door to their room and followed her in. Less than twenty-four hours and then they’d be back to…what, exactly? Could one go back to being acquaintances after what they’d shared?
She had to be reasonable about all this, had to know that what they’d shared might be special, but it certainly wasn’t worth torpedoing her whole life for. She’d just won her freedom, for heaven’s sake, and it sucked that she’d had to remind herself of that more and more these days.
The door shut behind them as she pushed her backpack off her shoulders. No matter what happened tomorrow, there was still what was left of tonight, and she was going to make the most of it. She turned to find Blake’s gaze trained on her as he slid his backpack to the floor.
She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, but he kept his gaze firmly trained on hers. “Now what?”
“That depends,” he said, stepping toward her.
“On?”
“Where this is going.” He cocked his head to one side, a question in his eyes, one that she knew she should walk away from, but…
She kicked her shoes off. “I think we both know where this is going.”
A small smile touched his mouth. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” She’d reached him by then and dropped her gaze to his mouth. “Are you sure? Because I’d hate for you to have regrets later.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “A very wise woman once told me that life’s too short to have regrets.”
“Is that so? Well,” she said, reaching a hand out and tracing her fingers over the front of his T-shirt with the outline of a skull printed on it. “She’s right, you know. Life is too short to have regrets.”
It was true. Which was why she’d take this time with Blake for what it was: laughter and tenderness and pleasure. She lifted her head and stared into his captivating eyes.
For the rest of her life, she’d remember his eyes, the way they revealed only what he wanted her to see. Like now. There was lust in there, all right, but this time it was mixed with something more powerful, something that played in concert with the hands that cupped her face, stroking softly, slowly, like he, too, was savoring the contact.
He lowered his head, nuzzled her nose briefly, then pulled back long enough to capture her gaze once more. “I’m going to make sure you won’t regret anything tonight.”
“Promises, promises.” She gasped when he licked along her jawline, made his way to her neck, and when he reached it, she couldn’t stop the stuttered breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Her pulse quickened, the heat between them building in waves, each one more potent as he held her against him with one arm and lightly dragged a hand down to the valley between her breasts. “I’ve been thinking about these all day.” He caressed the crest of one breast before moving to the other. “The way they move when you laugh or take a deep breath,” he whispered against the pulse at her throat.
“Oh.” She shuddered in another breath at his words, at the way he flicked his thumb over the sensitive tip of one breast, then the other, her senses tuned in to Blake. Only Blake and the delicious way he brought her body to life.
When he stopped and pulled back, her scrambled brain screamed a protest, her body at a loss for his heat, his touch. “Blake?” He didn’t answer, and a moment later, her world turned on its axis, tilting her so she reached her arms around his neck for support.
“Yes?” He nipped leisurely kisses across her chin and carried her across the room, strolling past the old sofa and scuffed-up coffee table, past the TV stand that divided the sitting area from the bed like he had all the time in the world.
The bed shifted with his weight, and he laid her down, not breaking the kiss. The kiss. The mind-numbing way his mouth explored hers, tasting and teasing until she captured his tongue and gently sucked, heard his deep intake of breath. Good. Maybe now she stood a chance of giving as good as she got.
Still, Zandra concentrated on the feel of him on her, of the way his mouth explored hers, at the slight weight of his body as he pulled at the hem of her shirt and quickly stripped it off of her. Somewhere through the haze, her lack of clothing against his fully clothed body registered—just like the layers that hid him from her, l
ayers she was determined to peel back, even if just for tonight.
She eased her fingers underneath the hem of his T-shirt and up his tight abs until she felt the thin mat of hair that covered his chest. He pulled back and groaned when she brushed a hand over his nipple. “What’s the matter, Blake? Can’t take as good as you give?”
His eyes burned her with that familiar lust, tempting her and issuing a warning at the same time. “Game on.”
His mouth crushed down on hers, plunging her into a place where she had one foot in fantasy while a part of her fought to stay in reality, a place of pleasure versus a place of logic and reasoning. But who said logic and reasoning should have a place in this moment?
Zandra pulled back just long enough to pull Blake’s shirt over his head, the skull printed on it replaced with the permanent one on his chest. She eased her fingers over it. “You never did tell me what it is about you and skulls.”
“It’s just a reminder that life’s got an end date, so I need to live while I can.”
She swallowed. “I believe that, too.” That was exactly why, past tonight, she could afford no more distractions. She lifted her gaze to his and smiled. “I think we need to keep this party going.”
Before long, the pile of clothes on the floor grew until all that she wore was a skimpy pair of panties.
“Better?” he asked with a lazy smile on his face.
She raised up onto one elbow and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Getting there.” She took his hand and led it to the small space between them and the scrap of black lace she wore. “I think you forgot a piece.”
“Actually, I like to think of it as heightening the anticipation.” He lowered his head and captured a thick nipple.
She moaned as want and need swirled into a mass so large it couldn’t be ignored. “Blake.” She uttered his name on a breathless sigh, desire surging through her in less time than she could process what was happening, how he owned her body, and how she wouldn’t want it any other way.
And that’s when Zandra knew the truth. Tonight, she was exactly where she belonged.
Seduced by the Soldier Page 16