Defend Her: A military suspense romance (Aussie Military Romance Book 4)

by Kenna Shaw Reed

  His mood hadn’t improved by the time he arrived at the conference centre. An imposing venue decorated for the night with heavy drapes, low lighting and extravagant masks for those who either forgot one or, like Ed, thought they could get away without.

  “Lieutenant Colonel Alexander!” Brynne’s friend, Juliette James greeted him with a hug. “I didn’t know whether you would actually turn up.”

  “What made you think I wouldn’t?” he joked. “You look gorgeous as always; is Roland here to protect you from adoring suitors?”

  “Roland is inside doing some last-minute adjustments to the auctions. My darling husband has more patience than I do with details and numbers.”

  “So, are you really going to force me to wear a mask?” Even as he pulled a face, he knew pleading wouldn’t work.

  “Absolutely, look how handsome you are—the women here wouldn’t stand a chance and I’d end up auctioning you off and breaking all fundraising records.”

  “Homelessness might be a worthy cause, but I’ll pay you good money not to even suggest that to my bosses. I can see it now; some public relations expert will decide it’s a ‘tots sic’ way of showing the modern face of the Australian soldier.”

  “Enjoy your night.” Juliette fixed his mask into place and released him to the main room.

  If he thought the mask would hide him from the single women in the room, he was mistaken.

  Everything from subtle flirting to brazen, “How about we find somewhere quiet to remove more than our masks.”

  When did women get so, well impossible to ignore? Luckily, years in the field honed his evasion skills, including not staying in the same place for too long, and always keeping a full glass in his hand. The masks should have made it harder to read their personalities, but when fake smiles were matched with dead eyes, Ed craved just one who could have warmth as well as passion, intelligence instead of gossip.

  “You okay?” Roland James offered Ed a drink.

  “Have you given up the board room for waiting tables and posh events?” Ed swapped his glass for orange juice. “Thanks, mate.”

  “I’ll do anything to make my wife happy and it’s either circulate with a full tray or get stuck for hours in conversation.”

  “Got a spare tray? I’m happy to help out if it gets me out of talking to people.”

  “Ed, you have over a hundred single women here, how about you find one to make you breakfast tomorrow. Let us happily married men live vicariously through you.”

  Just as Ed was about to blow off Roland’s suggestion, a flash of red caught his eye.

  A deep russet red gown in a sea of blacks and neutrals. Fabric folding against a body that he could only imagine. Then a pair of long legs visible through a thigh high split.

  “Who’s that?” He didn’t mean to gasp, only by the time he turned back to Roland, his only friend in the room had moved on to serve other thirsty guests.

  His attention finally piqued, Ed waited until a short break in the crowd gave him the first glimpse of an elegant woman, long jet-black hair pulled into a glossy ponytail. He loved the way the fitted bodice gave him all he needed to know about her body, without giving too much away. Imagination was a wonderful thing and he could almost feel how the material could come apart in his hands.

  “Hi,” Ed turned to the confident voice, expecting to see a familiar face, instead just another horny woman with too much make up and not enough self-respect.

  “Good evening,” he hesitated, already looking for an escape route.

  “Want a drink?” Couldn’t she at least try to be original?

  “Can you excuse me; I think I see an old friend.” This time Ed moved towards the last known sighting of a certain red dress, except by now it was surrounded in suits. He watched as one by one the would-be lovers were deftly dissuaded with a shy smile and a body in constant motion. A woman who was using the same techniques as himself. For a moment their eyes met, and Ed was almost certain that she winked, although with the mask he couldn’t be sure.

  He made his way through more women, almost wishing he had taken Vaughan up on the offer of a pretend girlfriend, but then he would never have a chance to meet his woman in red. Something he intended to rectify as soon as humanly possible. Still, he had to reach her before asking her name and hope she didn’t close him down as readily as she had others.

  Damn, she’d disappeared again. Ed mentally observed the room as a grid, planning how to stay ahead of other women while trying to find the only one who mattered.

  “Do I know you?” This time, the hand on his arm wasn’t letting go without a fight, but when Ed tried to spin away, his elbow bumped against … the woman in red!

  Flustered more than he had any right to be, he could only laugh and apologize, “Excuse me, I’m so sorry.” Luckily, no drinks had been spilt.

  “That would have to be the most elaborate set up for an introduction I’ve had tonight!” she joked, eyes already locked with his.

  “Lady, if I was going to set a trap, it would have been far more elaborate,” he assured her with a matching smile. “I’m thinking of a helicopter dropping me through the roof and scooping you up while you’re still in shock.”

  “From the shattered glass?”

  “No, by the lengths a man is willing to go to ask you for a dance.”

  “You want to dance with me?”

  “Only if you’re going to say ‘yes,’ after all, I don’t want to be treated like all the other men who have fallen at your feet tonight.”

  “Your ego is that brittle?”

  “My ego might not be, but let’s not test the strength of my heart.”

  “You are such a smooth talker!” At least she let him guide her to the dancefloor with every intention of taking her in his arms and never letting go, at least for the night.

  “This is my first masquerade ball, am I allowed to ask you for your name?” Ed wanted far more than her name, but it would at least be a start.

  “Why would we want to spoil a night of mystery?” Her lips were so close to his ear as their bodies moved in sync, oblivious to the other dancers crowded on the floor.

  “But how will I know if I see you again?” His hands tucked into the small of her back, chest to chest. If he had to dance all night until she gave up her secrets, he could wait.

  “That’s easy,” she purred. “A kiss.”

  Without warning or chance to over-think the consequences, his lips were claimed. Ed stopped any pretense of dancing to enjoy the most unexpected surprise. Pulling her tighter, their lips and then tongues explored until she broke away.

  Just in time, he thought while catching his breath, much more and his body would have exploded!

  Wow.

  “I could remember that kiss anywhere,” he whispered as their bodies started moving to the music again.

  “I might hold you to that!”

  For song after song, he didn’t know her name, or let her go. The chemistry between them was palpable; and the conversation didn’t go to places he usually avoided. Instead of talking about what they did for a living, he answered questions about what he believed. The characteristics he admired most in people.

  “How do you want to be remembered when you die?” she asked over a glass of white wine. Her choice, he switched from wine to juice so he could savor every moment from this night.

  “That I made a difference to at least one person; that at least one person is in a better place because of something I said or did.” He didn’t need to remember all the people who he’d put in the ground. “What about you?”

  “That I lived, with no regrets and no guilt.”

  “Children?”

  “Not yet, but definitely but with the right father.”

  “Married?”

  “If I was married, I wouldn’t be here kissing and dancing with you,” her words distracted by yet another kiss.

  ANASTACIA

  Never leaving the dancefloor, Anastacia refused to talk about herself ins
tead allowing her gorgeous stranger to hold her close while keeping his own secrets. For them and tonight, the past didn’t matter, and Anastacia needed a night to forget the mess she’d made of her life.

  None of her friends could begin to understand; only seeing the glamorous parties, famous house guests and the sexy, successful husband. Jealous of what had been her world, they couldn’t be expected to understand what had happened behind closed doors, and truthfully, Anastacia didn’t know how to explain why it took so long to leave.

  Stuck in a different country on a diplomatic visa that her ex-husband had assured her could be withdrawn at any time.

  Surrounded by staff and bodyguards, “for her protection,” but in reality, had kept her more of a prisoner than their pet dogs.

  Not even able to open up to her father in the safety of his home – Anastacia forced a reassuring smile, admitted her marriage was over but stressed she didn’t want or need to talk about it.

  Pride and guilt. Overwhelming and when combined with the half a dozen anonymous notes that followed her half-way across the world – and the persistent feeling of always being watched—Anastacia had nothing to tell without putting others at risk.

  Silently dancing with this gorgeous stranger, Anastacia drew some self confidence in the number of potential suitors she’d turned down during the evening, and that the only man who turned her head didn’t need to ruin their dancing with banal small talk.

  They didn’t need conversation for Anastacia to make her own assumptions—he had the body and presence of Defence—fit could mean Army but the self-assurance screamed Airforce. Her entire life, Anastacia had avoided becoming the stereotypical Defence brat, growing up only to date men just like her father. If she didn’t ask, the stranger wouldn’t tell, and she wouldn’t have to make comparisons.

  Her father.

  As much as she tried to deny their brief conversations since she’d been home, it was getting difficult to ignore his overt concern for her safety. Had her father always been like that, or had he heard the rumors about her ex? Impossible.

  Feeling safe in the stranger’s arms, Anastacia relaxed enough to think about the robust conversation before she left home earlier in the evening. Her father kept insisting it wasn’t safe to come out, even to this ball—blaming his own enemies who could be everywhere.

  Nothing Australia was doing had changed in the last couple of years—the terrorism level hadn’t increased but her father’s almost pathological concern for her safety had.

  If he only knew the enemies she left behind in Romania. If she could survive her marriage and her ex-husband, nothing in Australia could possibly hold the same risk. Still, it was nice to be safe and her father just wanted to be that, a father.

  “I want you to meet someone tomorrow,” her father had instructed in his “Colonel Vaughan” voice that soldiers feared.

  “Dad, I’m not even divorced, it’s too soon for you to start setting me up with random friends and you know my rule about dating anyone from Defence.”

  To her shock, he laughed, but out of sadness not joy. “The person I want you to meet has agreed to consider being a bodyguard for you while I’m sorting out some things.”

  “What sort of things?” Anastacia resented the idea of a bodyguard and despite how much she loved being home, would move cities or even countries if that’s what it would take to get her privacy back. She’d just walked out of a suffocating relationship; what was her father suggesting? Still, she needed more information before her father would listen to reason.

  “Nothing for you to concern yourself about as long as you take sensible precautions.”

  “Like not going out tonight and meeting your bodyguard friend?” There had to be a way for him to compromise, “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not negotiable. It won’t be forever, but you will meet him tomorrow.”

  “Then, I’m going out tonight.” Anastacia had a thousand ways to put off tomorrow’s meeting as she turned on the “favorite daughter” charm her father hadn’t been able to resist since she was five. “Daddy, please give me one night of freedom and I’ll meet your bodyguard tomorrow.”

  “Promise?”

  “I can’t promise that I won’t make his job difficult,” she warned.

  “That only means I’ll have to pay him extra.”

  “Danger money for looking after little ‘ol me?” she teased, ready to go out and forget all thoughts of bodyguards and ex-husbands.

  “Anastacia, I love you and will do anything to keep you safe. Please, grant your old father this one wish?”

  He had her there. Colonel Vaughan never remarried after her mother died of breast cancer. He had two loves, the Army and his daughter. Sometimes she questioned the order, but never his love or devotion.

  “Love you, daddy,” she hugged him tighter than when he collected her from the airport.

  “Love you too, baby girl.”

  “Enjoy your night!” her best friend, Bella Constance hadn’t waited for an answer, waltzing away from Anastacia as soon as they arrived at the masquerade ball to follow her heart, or at least her needs for the night!

  Left alone in a room full of strangers, Anastacia accepted a glass of champagne from a roving waiter, hugging the edge to take in the room. Her deep red velvet gown stood out against the blacks and neutrals, but perfectly fitted the theme. She felt like a princess who had been held captive in a dungeon for years. Even if any of the three hundred other guests knew her or her ex-husband, there was no way of recognizing her behind her matching mask. Tonight, she could talk, laugh and even flirt with no threats of punishment or need for heavy make up later to hide the evidence.

  Filling her need to feel alive, Anastacia initially welcomed interest from man after gorgeous man. Offers to talk, a fresh drink and more than one invitation to dance. Shallow, ego-driven men could rebuild her self-confidence but not her desire. With the grace of a diplomat’s wife, or ex-wife, Anastacia deflected each without hurting feelings or bruising egos. A generous smile, a hint of regret and then she kept moving, a target that couldn’t be hit and a woman who refused to be tamed. Being single in Sydney could be fun, once she got rid of her father’s idea of personal protection!

  After half an hour, the persistence of single men was becoming almost predictable and Anastacia fingered her wedding ring hidden in a pocket of her clutch bag. In some countries, wearing the ring was a protection against potential suitors who could never take a refusal without a “valid” reason. If one more man came up, tonight might be the first time in Australia she’d resort to such lengths.

  Sighing with regret, she unzipped the pocket and looked around the room for one last time as a “single” woman, wanting a reason for leaving the ring hidden.

  A momentary gap in the crowd and she saw “him.” Tall and strong, the confident stance and hair said “Defence” – growing up on bases all over the world, she’d recognize that stance and walk anywhere – and run a mile in the opposite direction. But tonight, she wasn’t Colonel Vaughan’s daughter. Tonight, she wouldn’t even have a name. Only Bella knew she was here and with her friend now permanently attached to the lips of her own sexy stranger, Anastacia felt the chains of responsibility and marriage fade.

  Watching the tall stranger, Anastacia saw him deflect almost as many women as she had men. If the goal of most men was to find a bed for the night, why would he do that? Any one of the women were attractive in different ways and he should have found at least one to fit his type. He caught her gaze and she couldn’t help but wink, not that he probably saw it across the crowd and through the mask.

  Now that was a man she wouldn’t say no to! Not for a drink, a dance or even maybe a night.

  Her old wedding ring safely locked away in her bag, Anastacia circled away from the man, allowing other men twenty or thirty seconds of conversation to change her mind. She didn’t know if she was his prey or he hers, it didn’t matter. At some point during the night, he’d find her,
and she would allow herself to be trapped.

  Anastacia recoiled from the strong stench of after shave on the sweaty older man even before she fought to keep him at arms length. He had refused her smiling apology and had pursued her around the room with a tenacity she found amusing in dogs but never in a man.

  Backing away and avoiding his hands, Anastacia didn’t see the couple behind her until she bumped into a stray elbow.

  Him.

  The tall stranger apologized even though Anastacia was certain it had been her fault. Light flirting until she threw caution to the wind. Over a dozen men had wanted her name or a dance tonight—all she wanted was one perfect kiss.

  Without thinking, Anastacia reached up, cupping his face in her hands underneath the mask before allowing her lips to wrap around his, until he took control. His hands snaked around her hips and she had never felt more alive.

  A kiss by any other name would only be a kiss. With one touch of his lips—this stranger momentarily erased all the hurt and pain of her marriage. Filling her with a desire she’d accepted as dead and buried.

  As her hips responded, she felt the soft touch from a man who knew how to be firm, how to hurt but chose to be gentle. Breaking away from the kiss, Anastacia hadn’t caught her breath before he had her dancing in his arms and all cares melted away.

  “What does tomorrow bring for you,” he whispered.

  There was no way to explain about her father’s idea of a bodyguard. Or that she hoped tonight’s lack of sleep would be from dreaming about this man instead of fearing her ex-husband’s next move.