Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances

by Marissa Dobson

  “All right. We’ll check the house then leave you on your own.” He took her arm and guided her down the footpath to Henry’s house.

  The front door stood wide open. Nikolai heard Jake and Louie murmuring in low voices near Henry’s study, so he knew it was safe for her to enter.

  Nikolai directed her to Henry’s study, which had been ransacked. Books dotted the carpet, ripped from shelves and tossed haphazardly to the floor. Broken glass from picture frames crunched underfoot, and a coffee table and chairs lay at drunken angles, carelessly overturned.

  He halted in the doorway. “Your feet are bare. Watch the glass. I need to know if anything is missing.”

  “How can I tell with this mess?”

  “Thieves usually take portable valuables. Electrical goods. Jewelry. Money. Do the best you can. Take one room at a time.”

  She wandered off so he limped over to Jake and Louie, skirting glass and a broken chair. “Point of entry?”

  Jake eyed the direction in which Summer had disappeared. “They forced the laundry window.”

  Nikolai’s nod was curt. “I doubt Henry keeps anything of military value here, but we can’t dismiss it totally.”

  “Nothing obvious missing.” Louie shrugged. “They’ve tossed the study and the bedrooms. Kitchen and dining room are intact. You gonna contact Henry?”

  “Nah.” Ribald amusement surfaced at the idea. He could hear Henry’s curses already, and none of the language sounded printable. “I know better than to interrupt a man on his honeymoon. Once he gets back is soon enough.”

  Jake righted a chair and straddled it. “You want us to stay?”

  The glint in his friend’s eyes made Nikolai sober and edginess seep into his muscles. He straightened to face off with his mate. The attempt at intimidation didn’t shift Jake’s smirk. Finally, he decided to pretend ignorance. “You might as well head off. I doubt they’ll be back tonight.”

  Louie leapt in to pick up the gauntlet. “You and the babe be okay on your own? You don’t need chaperones?”

  Jake chortled.

  Nikolai bared his teeth but there was no amusement involved. “Thanks for coming. Appreciate the help.”

  The three men walked to the door together, his two friends still chuckling loud enough to scrape him the wrong way. Never mind that he’d lead the joking if it were one of them in the same position.

  “How’s the knee?” Jake asked.

  “Better. I start physio next week.”

  The phone rang, and all three men froze.

  Louie scowled. “Damn funny time for the phone to ring.”

  Nikolai headed inside at a jog, ignoring the pain signals traveling from his knee. The ringing ceased.

  Louie followed. “Too late. She’s answered it.”

  “Summer!” Nikolai hollered.

  She appeared at the end of the passage, and he saw her pallor even with the distance between them. When she saw him, she ran toward him. An instant later, he held her trembling body in his arms.

  “Who was it?” he asked, already suspecting the answer.

  She shivered. “I don’t know. They told me they’d be back.”

  Nikolai tightened his hold as if he could stop the shaking by sheer willpower. “Anything else?”

  “He told me I wouldn’t have guard dogs all the time.”

  Nikolai waved off his hovering mates. “Catch ya tomorrow.”

  Louie nodded. “Ring if you need us.”

  “I think Nikolai has things under control,” Jake said deadpan.

  Stone-faced, Nikolai indicated the door with a jerk of his head. “Good night.”

  Summer pulled away from him. “Thanks for the help.”

  Jake winked, his pretty face wreathed in a babe-mag smile. “Anytime.”

  Nikolai growled, and Louie chuckled without restraint.

  Summer glanced at him, her eyes wide and blue. They shimmered in the light, and seeing that, he braced for an emotional outpouring. Hell, he hated weeping females. Laura used to excel at tears on demand. It’d taken him a while to catch on, but experience still hadn’t taught him how to cope with the feminine emotion.

  “Where did they get in?” she demanded.

  He did a double take. Not a tear in evidence. Instead, fury vibrated through her, rage making her glow with an inner fire. “Laundry window.”

  “Would you mind boarding it up while I finish checking the rooms for missing items?”

  “No problem.” Bemusement shaded his tone.

  Her head dipped in a no-nonsense nod as she headed for the lounge.

  A flash of tanned limbs drew his gaze. “What happened to your legs?”

  She slowed and glanced down with indifference. “I jumped out my bedroom window. Uncle Henry’s rose garden is below.”

  Nikolai swallowed. He was trained to deal with medical emergencies in the field, but it was different, worse somehow, seeing her injured. Angry scratches marred the creamy perfection of her calves. The right leg appeared worse. The scratches went all the way up her thigh, disappearing beneath the flimsy hem of her nightgown. Closer scrutiny showed protruding thorns. “That must hurt. Why didn’t you say something?”

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’ll live.”

  “Where does Henry keep the first-aid kit?”

  “You sound like my mother. Stop fussing. I’ll grab the kit when I’ve finished checking the rooms.”

  He didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. The lady had enough prickles to rival a rose bush without borrowing from nature. “How are you going to remove the thorns by yourself?”

  “I’ll look in the mirror.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier if I did it?”

  She eyed him with clear mistrust. “I am not letting you look at my butt.”

  Her trepidation fed his determination to follow through. “Seen one butt, you’ve seen them all.”

  “This is a stupid discussion.” She took three steps into the lounge. “Let yourself out when you’ve finished in the laundry.”

  He blinked at her retreating form. It had been a long time since anyone dismissed him that way. “How do you know I wasn’t involved in the break-in?” he asked in a soft voice.

  She whirled to glare at him. “That’s not funny.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Is this a lecture? A life lesson? I might come from the country, but I’m not stupid. Uncle Henry trusts you, and that’s good enough for me.” She stormed past the den.

  Nikolai stalked her, admiring the feminine roll of hips as she stomped. His gaze drifted to her stiff shoulders and returned to her butt. Nope. Nothing wrong with her curvy figure.

  She paused to right a stool, and as she reached for the chrome leg, Jake’s shirt and the nightgown rode up. Nikolai’s breath hissed through his teeth.

  “Right, that does it.” He tore his gaze away and fixed it on her indignant expression. “Where’s the first-aid box? Those scratches go all the way up your leg. They’ll get infected if they’re not treated.”

  She huffed hard enough to blow a lock of hair from her eyes. “You’re not going to leave without a fight, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  * * *

  Stubborn, stubborn man. “I heard Uncle Henry ask you to watch me. Are you going to boss me around the entire time he’s away? Personally, I think this is an extreme plan to see my naked butt.”

  She caught his blink and watched his mouth curve in a sensual grin. Her heart sped up without warning, and her face heated. She wanted to fan her cheeks but kept her hands clenched at her sides. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-nine, almost thirty.”

  Good, another black mark to add to the dreaded bossy factor. He was way too old for her. The article in Miranda magazine suggested a five-year age gap was good, and she agreed. Besides, she didn’t want to tie herself to one man, and the more her family interfered, the more determined she was to have fun and make up for lost time. Clear relief at his advanced age made
her chirp, “I’m twenty-two.”

  “Is the first-aid stuff in the bathroom?”

  Stuck record. Clearly, he wasn’t going to back down. “Yeah, in the bathroom cabinet. I’ll get it.”

  “You’ll need to lie down. Your bedroom is the best place.”

  No. Definitely not, especially when she pictured her single bed and the lineup of stuffed bears. She imagined Nikolai touching her, gazing at her rear end. She shuddered. That was a big fat no. Dirty laundry covered the floor, still lying where she’d tossed it earlier. Underwear… She shook her head emphatically. “I don’t think so.”

  “God, you’re stubborn. Just like Henry. No more arguing or I’ll paddle your butt.”

  Right, that did it—underhand tactics required. She spun around and fluttered her lashes. “Oh, kinky. Sounds like fun.”

  They stared at each other until he cleared his throat, breaking the silent challenge flaring between them. “I’d be gentle with you.”

  A shiver rippled through her, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature in the dimly lit passage. “Yeah, but would you respect me in the morning?”

  A bark of laughter escaped him, changing the harsh angles of his face to handsome. “I thought we’d established I’m too old for you to hone your skills on.”

  She forced herself to move. What the heck was wrong with her? She wasn’t usually susceptible to a military man. “We discussed it, but I wasn’t aware we’d come to an agreement.” Oops, what had happened to the naïve country girl from Eketahuna? And the decision that he was too old for her?

  Nikolai brushed past her, heading for the bathroom. She heard the bang of a cupboard as it closed, the slide of the medicine cabinet and the hitch of careful footsteps as he limped back. Her insides clenched in anticipation.

  “This your room?”

  She nodded, eyeing him warily. She wasn’t going to let him look at her butt, was she?

  “On the bed.”

  An order. She remained in the bedroom doorway. The room seemed smaller than she remembered and a lot messier. Her gaze darted to the filmy underwear littering the floor. The piles of bright, in-your-face colors lying on the green carpet reminded her of wildflowers. Not one pair of plain white granny pants in sight. She tried to take comfort from that fact.

  “I wonder what they were looking for,” she mumbled. Conversation. That was what she required—something to distract both of them. “Do you think they were after goods to sell, because I haven’t found anything missing yet? And ‘they’ll be back’ sounds like a line from a second-rate movie.”

  Nikolai stepped over a turquoise-colored bra with barely a pause. “Don’t try to change the subject. On the bed.”

  The unyielding jaw suggested it was useless to argue, while her innate common sense suggested she close her eyes and think of…England.

  While she hesitated, he straightened the covers and gestured impatiently. She hesitated until he quirked a challenging brow in her direction. Finally, she huffed out a put-upon sigh and stretched out, facedown on the bed, her pulse rate racing.

  Silence fell, and her senses jump-started into hyperdrive. The groan of the first-aid box snapped like rifle fire when Nikolai opened it, the rustle of plasters and bandages, the return volley. The mattress depressed on one side as he sat beside her. Heat gathered in her face.

  He was staring at her butt.

  She just knew it.

  The silk of her nightgown rustled as he raised the hem. Cool air brushed across the tops of her thighs.

  “Hell, why didn’t you say something earlier? That must hurt.”

  He was looking at her legs. Fingers curled into the duvet cover while she bit back a moan. Beneath the silk fabric of the nightgown bodice, her nipples tightened while liquid warmth between her legs made her heart stutter in distinct alarm.

  His fingers trailed over her left calf and up her thigh. The emotion in her face sprinted downward and spread until her body burned with unrelenting heat. She squirmed inwardly. Thank goodness, he couldn’t see her expression or witness how turned-on she was, how much she wanted to explore his delectable body in return. Despite her virginal state, she lacked nothing in the imagination department.

  “Can you hurry the process?” She wasn’t proud of the begging tone, but desperation left no room for dignity.

  She heard him rummaging through the first-aid kit. A metallic clink.

  “This will hurt,” he warned.

  Not half as much as her pride. His fingers skimmed her thighs again. She trembled. Please let him hurry. She didn’t think she could take much more of this torture. Actually, the pain wasn’t too bad. At least it helped her concentrate on something other than his touch.

  “All done.” The tweezers clattered against the kit as he put them down. “A little antiseptic and you’ll live. I’ll check the scratches for infection tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think so. One free look at my butt is all you get.” She turned over and sat up, tugging the silk nightgown down as far as it would go. He had the gall to laugh—a low, sexy chortle that sucked at her insides.

  “Will you be okay here for the rest of the night, or do you want to sleep at my house in case they decide to return?”

  Her gaze shot to him. Exactly what was he offering? Sudden pressure in her lungs reminded her to breathe. “I’ll sleep here.” The flexing of his jaw indicated he intended to argue. “You gave me an option and I’ve answered. I’ll be fine. Despite the phone call, I doubt they’ll return tonight.”

  His hesitation urged her to assert herself before he started pushing her around. “I’ll lock the windows and doors.”

  “I’ll stay here tonight,” he informed her as if she hadn’t said a word.

  “In my bed?” To her immense frustration, her sentence ended on a squeak.

  Nikolai glanced at the bed and back at her. His lips kicked up in a faint smile. “Does it look as if we’d both fit in this sorry excuse for a bed?”

  “There’s no need for sarcasm.”

  “I’ll sleep in Henry’s room.”

  “Fine. You’re going to do what you want no matter what I say.” She stalked to her bedroom door and arched her brows in a silent order for him to leave. He made no effort to depart, and she spelled it out bluntly. “Good night.”

  The instant he cleared the doorway, she slammed her door shut. She heard a chuckle before his slow, uneven retreat. Good. He’s gone.

  As she picked up a hairbrush and a tube of lipstick, she shoved Nikolai from her mind or tried to. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of him. The first-aid kit still sat on her bed. Used pieces of cotton wool and a tube of antiseptic ointment were in plain sight, the impression his body had made on her duvet jolted her back in time. Lord, she could even smell the spicy scent of his soap.

  Summer stomped around her bed and picked up a discarded drawer. She scooped up piles of silky lingerie and dumped them inside. She gathered a pile of books the intruders had tossed on the floor, along with the ring binder containing her study notes. Once the room looked more habitable, she decided to attempt sleep. She crawled under the covers and flicked off the bedside lamp.

  Ten minutes later, she was still wide-awake. She reached over and turned on her lamp. She’d read. That was what she’d do. She checked the shelf where she’d left her parcel, frowned then fished inside the straw basket by her bed. Ah-ha! She extracted a package wrapped in brown paper from amongst two others and the rest of the junk in her basket. Ripping it open, she smiled and turned over the first book. Her satisfaction faded. She pulled the second book from the parcel and scanned the title, then the third.

  This wasn’t her package.

  These weren’t her books.

  A frustrated scream lodged in her throat, but she bit down on her tongue and glared at a book on fly-fishing. She would’ve released the screech if it wasn’t for Nikolai’s presence.

  A card fluttered free from one of the books. It read, Special order for Alistair Martin.
r />   So much for the reading idea.

  She groaned and hoped Alistair Martin appreciated her hot romances.

  Chapter Four

  Nikolai haunted her thoughts all day just as he’d inhabited her Technicolor dreams throughout the night. The naked visual in her memory combined with all the sexual how-to articles she’d read to produce a truly stunning fantasy.

  Two people slow dancing, their arms wrapped around each other. She and the big, bad SAS man. Slowly undressing. Letting clothing fall to the carpet while they continued to move to the music, rubbing against each other, pausing to slide lips across each newly bared body part. Her breasts tingling as Nikolai slid his mouth across the upper slopes and curves then tugged at a straining nipple through the silky fabric of her lemon-colored bra. He pulled away, leaving a circle of wet fabric.

  “Do you like that?”

  Summer considered. “I’m not sure. You’d better do it again.”

  Nikolai laughed, his dark eyes gleaming. “We can’t have that. A woman should have an opinion about something this important.” And he bent his dark head again, sucking the tip of her other fabric-covered nipple into his mouth.

  A sensation of heat engulfed her entire body. She gripped his shoulder. “I need… It might be better if I took this off. I wouldn’t want you to get fluff-balls.”

  Two dark brows shot toward his hairline as he released her nipple to stare at her. “Fluff-balls?”

  “Like fur-balls in cats.”

  “You know, I think you’re right.” His hand slid behind her back, and with a casual flick, her bra fell open. “While we’re at it, maybe we should get comfortable. How does the bed sound? We can try the kitchen table next time.”

  Was he teasing? She tipped her head back to study his face, her pulse kicking up at the sensual promise in his slumberous eyes, his smiling lips.

  The rest of their clothes dissolved. Suddenly, cool cotton sheets were at her back, and Nikolai leaned over her, his tanned fingers exploring her breasts. She stirred restlessly, her breasts aching for his touch. When he finally touched her nipples, he pinched them hard. The corresponding jolt between her legs made her cry out.