“They wouldn’t need checking every day.”
“No, my girls are self-sufficient.”
Ella snorted. “I refuse to comment.”
Dillon grinned, the action more natural than it had been in the previous weeks. “I’ll let Rufus out for a run. Won’t be long.”
By the time Dillon reached the kitchen, Ella had the oven heating and the scones underway.
“Who taught you to cook?”
“My auntie. Mum couldn’t boil water without a mishap. My learning to cook was self-defense.”
“Did you end up cooking dinner?”
“Most of the time, although it never bothered me because that way we had what I wanted to eat. I enjoy curry and lentils, dishes with spice and fragrance. Things with a hint of heat but not too much to make your eyes water.”
“The food in Afghanistan is similar to Indian and Pakistani meals, but they don’t use as many spices. Have you traveled?”
“I’ve seen the North Island, and we had family vacations on the Gold Coast of Australia and Fiji. I’d love to travel more. I suppose you’ve visited more countries.”
Dillon shrugged. “The hot spots, although we’ve done joint training exercises with the Australian and British forces. We don’t get much downtime to explore.” He grabbed his paper stripping tool and set to work.
Soon the scent of scones filled the kitchen. Cheese scones, Ella had informed him since they were her favorite. His lips twitched as he watched her bustle around his kitchen.
“You have soup,” she announced. “We’ll have it for lunch.”
“Mum and the local ladies have stocked my fridge even though I’m capable of looking after myself.”
“Did you tell them that?”
“Mum likes having one of her brood at home to fuss over. The other women have…had an agenda.”
“They were after your luscious body,” Ella said.
“I…what?” Dillon glanced over his shoulder in time to catch her wink. “You looking at my arse again?”
“Maybe.”
Unexpected heat collected in Dillon’s cheeks, so he returned to stripping paper. He preferred to place his women in boxes, keeping them separate from the important things in his life. His friends and fellow soldiers. His work. Ella’s artlessness was throwing him off his game, and somehow, she’d dispersed his normal gruffness.
“The paint won’t dry well in this weather.”
“It won’t matter. I’ll do this one wall and open the windows when I can to let out the paint fumes. I’m not in a hurry to finish.”
“How long have you had the property?”
“Six years now. Not much time to spend my money when I’m working. I wanted to have something for the future.”
“That’s very forward-thinking of you.”
Dillon worked on removing the last strip of wallpaper. The truth was he’d purchased the block of land on a whim, borrowing from his parents to complete the sale. Since then, he’d repaid their loan. A place of his own had worked for him and Hana, and since his return on leave, the property had been a place to hide while he sorted out his head.
His satellite phone rang, and he set down his scraper to answer the call.
“Mum,” he said.
“Do you like, Ella? She’s such a lovely girl. I thought you’d hit it off together.”
“Mum, stop. Ella is nice, but she’s dating Michael.”
Ella’s head jerked and she stared at him with head-lamp eyes. She made him want to laugh.
“Pooh, Michael. You could win her away without breaking a sweat.”
“I’m going outside,” he said to Ella. Three long strides later, he was out the front door and standing in the unused carport. “Mum, stop. Hana died six months ago. It is way too early to romance another woman.”
“You have needs,” his mother said, unrepentant.
“I can tell Nikolai, with my hand on my heart, that Summer isn’t an original. She inherited her outrageousness from you,” Dillon snapped. “Butt out, Mum. Ella is dating Michael, who I happen to respect.”
“Where is she sleeping?”
No missing the slyness in that query. His mother was in full matchmaking mode. “On the couch.”
“Dillon Jason Williams! I raised you better than that.”
Dillon held the phone farther from his ear. “I’m an adult, Ma,” he snapped, knowing the Ma would irritate her. “What I do in my home is my business. Not yours. Not anyone else’s. Stop matchmaking because it will not happen. I’m heading back to Afghanistan at the end of September.”
“I understand.” His mother sounded subdued now. “I’m sorry, Dillon. I want you to be happy again.”
Dillon sighed. “Mum, you can’t expect me to jump straight into another relationship. What if something happened to Dad? Would you remarry within six months?”
“No, you’re right. Dillon, I’m sorry. It’s just Ella is a lovely girl. She is popular.”
“Yeah, Michael has excellent taste. Gotta go. Lunch is ready.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, we have stacks of food. The creek is too high to skirt the landslide at present. As long as the rain eases, we should get Ella out in two days.”
“This rain is a nuisance.”
“It’s still winter. I’ll ring when we’re ready to walk out and Dad can meet us on the other side. One more thing—Ella will need a vehicle. Are you using Hana’s car?”
“Excellent idea, son. We’ll make sure the car is running. Take care. Oh, and Dillon?”
“Yes?”
“You’re a tough soldier, used to sleeping on the ground. Let Ella have the bed.”
Before he could reply, the line clicked in his ear. His mother had hung up after having the last word. Typical.
The afternoon passed in easy companionship. They started painting the kitchen. Ella helped him return the alpacas to shelter for the night. Later, they heated one of the casseroles from his fridge and ate it along with mashed potatoes. They watched a movie together and nibbled on shortbread that Ella had baked at the same time as her scones. The girl had kitchen skills.
“You take the bed,” Ella said once the movie ended. “I can fit on the couch.”
“I don’t mind sharing my bed.”
“No,” Ella said promptly enough to wound his male ego.
In the end, he caved. “There are spare blankets in the hall cupboard.” He collected them for her and left her to it, all the while forcing sex out of his brain. Funny, but he hadn’t had that problem for a while, hadn’t missed sex while he’d been with Hana.
One day with Ella, and it was all he could think about.
4 – Evening Shenanigans
The icy cold woke Ella. Disoriented, because the subtle glow of her nightlight wasn’t present, she shivered beneath the weight of three heavy blankets. She peered through the absolute darkness, frowning until she recalled she was sleeping on the couch. The too-short couch, she’d discovered during her first stretch. The fire no longer burned in the hearth, and desperate for warmth, she decided she’d crawl into Dillon’s bed. After all, he’d surprised her by doing the same.
It wasn’t that she had designs on his muscular body.
She scowled.
Well, maybe she did.
A woman wasn’t alive if she didn’t look at Dillon Williams and wonder exactly how hard those muscles would bounce against her fingertips. What sort of lover he’d be? Not even that wild, bushy beard of his was enough to put her off now that she’d spent the day with him and peeled away the first of his layers.
But she had restraint.
She wasn’t a cavewoman intent on clubbing her competitors to win the man with the best forward propulsion.
No, she was not.
Contrasting warmth and cold battled within her body, and she attempted to refocus.
Unfortunately, now that the topic of sex filled her mind, it was difficult to find a replacement thought. She plain liked Dillon and enjoyed hi
s company.
And dating Michael…
She sighed, aware of the uncomfortable conversation that lay in her future when Dillon kept intruding and producing wicked notions. Ella stood and let out a yelp.
The icy floor dampened her lust, and she fumbled for her socks. Ugh! Still cold. She bumbled her way around the two-seater and the two other chairs. The door creaked when she opened it, and she blundered into a wall since the passage was as black as Hades. Once she found the wall, she progressed more steadily to Dillon’s bedroom.
In the doorway, she paused, peering through the darkness. Dillon lay on the left side of the bed, his breathing normal.
Why the devil didn’t he snore? The man must have one or two imperfections.
Ella inched closer, more confident now. She supposed his beard rated as a minus although he probably considered it a deterrent to his female visitors. He should stop bathing if he wanted to drive off unwanted guests. That was one thing women agreed on—cleanliness in a man. She’d suggest it to him tomorrow. No, today because surely it was after midnight by now.
Finally, she reached the bed and made her way stealthily to the right side. She pulled back the covers and…
A scream rang out, echoing in the bedroom.
Hers.
A heavy mass pinned her to the bed. She couldn’t move. She could barely gather enough breath for another screech of protest.
“Ella?” a hoarse voice demanded.
A lamp switched on, but the weight of a man on her chest never lessened.
She blinked as she stared at Dillon’s fierce visage. His soldier face. At least, that was her assumption. Determination and bold power radiated from his eyes. Her gaze drifted downward, and she swallowed.
“Where are your clothes?”
“Why are you creeping into my bedroom?” Dillon countered.
Ella ripped her gaze off his broad chest and noticed a faint scar on his shoulder. Her gaze drifted lower, and her eyes widened. He had a six-pack. No, make that an eight-pack. Lots of packs. And he’d ditched the tight-fitting boxers. The man had an all-over tan. How did he manage that in the middle of winter? Surely… No, she gathered Afghanistan was a conservative country. She doubted any of the soldiers ran around naked.
“Ella.” Her name held a warning. Explain or else.
“Um, yes?” Something tempted her to learn what the or else might be.
“What are you doing here?” He added a growl. A dark, sexy rumble that made her fingers flex in the sheets.
“Well…” Her gaze wandered his muscles.
“Were you waiting for me to relax before you made your move?”
“No! Jeesh! What is it with you Eketahuna men? You have high opinions of yourself and consider you’re God’s greatest gift to the female species. I was cold because the fire has gone out. The couch is too short, and I couldn’t stretch out with comfort. Three blankets aren’t keeping me warm. How was I meant to know you were naked in here? I mean, what sort of idiot strips to the buff in this icy weather? It’s inhuman. Nuts! Cray-cray. Definitely cray-cray.”
“Push the off button, Ella Double-barrel Name.” His lips pursed, and she received a brief flash of white teeth. “Do I make you nervous?”
“Yes. No!”
“Which is it?”
“I didn’t expect golden muscles to hit me when I got into bed. Nakedness. Can you get off me now? Eek! Why do you have an erection? It’s too cold. I thought icy temperatures killed erections?”
Dillon barked out a laugh. “Apparently not.”
“Well, put it away. Too much naked male splendor might induce me to deliver casseroles and cupcakes. Don’t forget, I’ll be party to the secret way around the blocked road. A landslide won’t stop me. Hell, no!” Why couldn’t she stop this verbal diarrhea? She pressed her lips together and held her breath. Why did he smell so good? “If you pelted the casserole ladies with body odor instead of citrus and manly musk, you’d have more hope of them fleeing. Stop taking showers. That should do it. No woman is attracted to a stinky man.”
Dillon stared at her with his baby-blues.
Ella swallowed, unwilling to break their visual connection. The silence stretched way past uncomfortable. She broke first, her gaze darting downward over the expanse of golden muscles to land on his groin. She gasped.
“You should trim your beard. I could do that for you tomorrow. You’re safe from the casserole ladies for a while—at least until they clear the road—so you should tidy that facial hair. You don’t want to scare your alpacas. I’ll help you trim it tomorrow.”
Dillon’s eyes glowed. Was that heat in his gaze? She thought it might be, and her pulse raced even faster. Her heart thumped. Bang. Bang. Bang.
“There is one sure-fire way to silence you.”
She blinked and stiffened as her mind followed his words. “Ah, I might be warmer now. I’ll…um…go back to the couch. Yes, that’s an excellent idea. Much safer.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m considering jumping you. I haven’t had sex for a long time, and it’s a shame to waste a good erection.”
There was one of those pregnant pauses, and this time Dillon blinked. Ella’s heartbeat banged a fraction harder, a fraction louder while heat crawled from her cheeks, down her neck to tickle her breasts.
She refrained from squirming.
Just.
“If you won’t shut up, I’ll have to make you.” An instant later, Dillon’s mouth covered hers.
The oomph burst out of her urge to flee, and she froze.
Dillon smiled against her lips before he rearranged his big body for comfort, wrapped his arms around her and settled in to kiss her properly. Soft lips caressed hers. Teasing yet not hesitant. He used firm pressure. Perfect pressure while keeping the kiss on the right side of innocent. Just as she relaxed, he upped his game. Oh yes. The man had technical skills. His tongue coaxed her to open to him, and when she did, he took immediate advantage. Their tongues slid together in a sensual dance that sent flares of delight southward.
She moaned against his mouth and wound her arms around his neck to hold him tight in case he ended this decadent treat.
Thankfully, he continued to kiss her, exhibiting a wide knowledge and experience that she made a mental note to ask about later. His kissing skills—sublime. Inspirational compared to the more recent efforts she’d experienced.
Her body sizzled with an urgent desire, a low prickling heat building between her legs. Her breasts grew swollen and heavy as she relaxed in his arms.
Finally, he lifted his head, and she groaned her disappointment.
“Are you stopping?”
She received a flash of a grin as he moved away from her aching body. He switched off the lamp, and the covers rustled as he situated himself.
Ella sighed. He’d ruined her for kissing other men. Not that she intended to tell him that. She turned over onto her side and faced away from him. Best not to let him decide she was angling for more. She’d hate him to think less of her, and she hadn’t come to his bedroom for this. Getting warmer had been her priority, and she’d aced that.
A muscular arm curled around her waist, and she jumped.
“Are you tired of kissing me?”
“Um, no.” That was an embarrassing squeak.
“Good,” he said. “Because now I’ve thought about sex, I can’t stop.”
Before she could question him, he’d turned her back to face him and his lips against hers put a halt on information gathering.
That prickle of heat flared to life again, and she ached to have his hands on her breasts. Yet asking for this would mean he’d have to remove his lips from hers. That wouldn’t do at all. Mouths met, teased, brushed. Tongues twirled and danced.
Dillon parted their mouths. “I’m at a disadvantage here. You should remove your shirt to even the stakes. Opinion?”
“Ah, yes?” Where was that annoying squeak coming from? She cleared her throat. “Yes, please.”
; Frigid air struck her upper torso as he tossed the blankets aside. He helped her rise and removed her T-shirt with expertise that made her blink. Nothing wrong with his seductive skills. What on earth did they teach them in soldier school?
Dillon gently pushed her back onto the mattress. He rearranged the covers and used himself as a human blanket. Warmth seared her naked breasts.
“Much better.” Dillon kissed her while his big, warm hand coasted along her triceps. His fingers unerringly found one breast. Proof that a man was quite capable of multitasking. A shiver ran through Ella. It streaked from her mouth to her breast and down the highway of her body, straight to her clit. Sexual excitement propelled damp arousal even though common sense told her that this could go nowhere.
Dillon was a widower who’d recently lost his wife. He was a soldier and a career one at that. Ella allowed her hands to wander in return. She mightn’t get another chance to explore these glorious muscles. Her fingertips skimmed the planes of his back, and daring made her let them drift even lower until they settled on his tight backside. He clenched for an instant, and Ella wasn’t sure if she’d surprised him or if he was showing off. Either way, she now had firsthand experience and could say she never doubted his ability to propel sperm.
The thought gave her pause.
Birth control.
If they ever got that far, they were in trouble. She wasn’t on birth control. Disappointment filled her since now that she’d allowed herself to daydream and ponder, she’d love to examine his cock with closer attention.
His big hand settled over her breast, then he moved down her body and before she could utter a word, his lips drew on her nipple. A loud moan of enjoyment escaped her, and instantly, heat filled her cheeks.
Heck. Just call her easy. Call her desperate. Call her seduced.
She’d always enjoyed a man’s mouth on her breasts, and this man had moves.
His mouth tugged her nipple as he released it. “You like that.”
No point in denial. “Yes.”
“How far do you want us to take this?” His fingers toyed with her nipple, making it difficult for her to focus.
Stranded With Ella Page 4