While he’d heard from other men in Special Forces that some of their girlfriends got clingy, he’d never encountered the problem before. Maybe he’d kept his emotions and his affection shut off so well the women he’d dated here and there hadn’t felt more for him. Maybe he didn’t deserve a woman like Jemma being concerned about him.
It hit him in the stomach like a bullet.
Tears meant she cared about him enough to get emotional and the idea stunned him. Deep in his gut he realized sleeping with her had made it worse for both of them. Taking her to bed hadn’t removed his lust, hadn’t taken the edge off of needing her. He craved her right now, as she stood in the window with sun turning her already beautiful hair into a shimmering curtain of flaming red. My God, she looked A-number-one fucking gorgeous.
If he continued the relationship with her, if he wanted to jeopardize his relationship with Graham, he could continue to sleep with her. If she would allow it.
Before he could respond she said, “I…I think I need to give this time. Think about what I’m doing.”
He should be relieved, maybe, that she wanted to cool things down and think over what they’d done. Damn, if this wasn’t ironic. Usually he left first, telling a woman goodbye after they’d had some fun together. The woman always understood that a few nights together and a little dating didn’t mean anything permanent.
Why the hell did he ache inside where he couldn’t recall feeling so empty or alone before?
“I think you’re right,” he said. “Why don’t we play it cool for awhile? I’m not sure where my career is going anyway.”
That’s it, Blayne old boy, play it cool.
She took a deep breath and he saw she’d forced the tears back. Now she appeared calm and composed. “So what happened in the Middle East may affect your career?”
“Yeah. I don’t know. Things are up in the air, so it’s probably not a good time to start anything when I may not be able to finish it.”
Again she gave him one of those precise little nods. “I’d better go take a shower before Graham gets here.”
With military precision she left the living room. Blayne returned to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. The first sip burned the hell out of his mouth and he cursed. He put the cup down on the counter and stared into its murky depths.
Damn it all to hell.
* * * * *
Blayne stared at the snowy streets as Graham drove his Subaru Outback slowly toward Fort Carson. Tension drew tight in the car, and when Blayne glanced over at his friend, he could tell from the man’s expression something might blow at any second.
At the best of times Graham was happy-go-lucky, a tall, strawberry-blond soldier with a tall, muscular build. Pound for pound he figured Graham weighed about the same as him, and yet he knew when it came to fighting he could kick his friend’s ass.
Graham might be a soldier, but he wasn’t trained quite like Blayne. He wondered if Graham would be tempted to fight him anyway. Trouble was, he understood Graham’s fierce protective feelings; Blayne felt the same way about his sisters Polly and Anne.
Graham hadn’t twenty-questioned either of them when he’d arrived at the apartment, but he’d given them both a look that assured there would be inquiries later.
It came sooner than Blayne expected.
“What happened last night?” Graham’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.
Blayne cleared his throat. “I’m not going to bullshit you, Graham, because we’re both adults and Jemma is an adult.”
“You asshole,” Graham growled before Blayne could say another word.
Blayne gritted his teeth. “Look, your sister’s love life is her business.”
“Love? You mean this has something to do with love? I can’t believe you did this.
What did you tell her, eh? Did you give her some hearts and flowers crap you have no intentions of following up on?”
“No, damn it, I did not.” He glared. “You know me better than that. I don’t play games with women. When a woman dates me, she knows right up front what my intentions are.”
Liar. You didn’t state any intentions to Jemma other than getting into her panties.
Graham grunted. “All right, I’ll give you that. But this is my sister we’re talking about here, Forbes.”
“What she does and who she does it with is her business. She’s twenty-nine fucking years old, not sixteen.”
Graham went silent for a couple of minutes, his profile granite hard with irritation. “I won’t have her hurt.”
“Who says she’s going to get hurt? You really think I’m that much of a bastard?”
“No.”
One word didn’t satisfy Blayne, but he figured it might be all he’d receive for now.
Graham swallowed hard. “She needs a man who isn’t going to leave and get his ass shot off.”
So, just like Jemma had discussed with him last night, her entire family remembered too well what their father had experienced in Vietnam.
“This is really about your father,” Blayne said.
“Yeah, that’s a good example of what can happen to a soldier in combat.”
“Right, but your father came back alive.”
“Alive, but not whole. Look, he’s doing well these days but every once in awhile he’s got these problems, you know?”
Blayne gazed out at the highway as it rolled beneath the car. “Night sweats, nightmares, anger impulse control problems. Yep, I’ve heard it all.”
Silence entered the car as they turned into Fort Carson and passed the gate checkpoint where they showed their IDs to the soldiers guarding the gate.
Once they went through, Graham spoke again. “I want what’s best for my sister.”
“Of course you do.”
“If she falls in love, it should be for a damned accountant or a lawyer who comes home every night. Not a soldier who sees horrible things and is sent back from a mission because his ass has been kicked by a bullet.”
An ache centered in the center of Blayne’s chest, as if Graham had shot him, too. “They sent me stateside to convalesce. But maybe they won’t let me back into the team. I don’t know.”
For the first time Graham’s voice softened, a different worry in his tone. “What? Tell me what happened.”
So in excruciating detail he explained how the mission had gone south, some bad intelligence sending the team into an area overflowing with the enemy. Sergeant Dennis Glabowsky had died because of it, and now the man haunted his dreams.
“That wasn’t your fault,” Graham said as he turned down the street leading to his office. “You didn’t have any way of knowing what was going to happen. It was an ambush. You were damned lucky to come out alive. From the way I hear it, you saved some lives.”
Blayne gave a half-sarcastic laugh. “Well, I don’t think they’ll be giving me a medal for it anytime soon.”
“Don’t be too sure.”
Blayne threw him a smile. “For a man who just gave me a butt-chewing over his sister, you’re being mighty fucking supportive.”
Graham pulled his car into the lot near his office and found Blayne’s Focus. The car had a layer of ice on the windshield. Most of the snow had blown off it already.
When Graham pulled into a spot next to the Focus, he shut off the engine. “I guess I am.” He stared at Blayne, his gaze contemplative and maybe a little confused. “Look, Blayne, if you need help for the trauma, get help. Don’t let it stew inside you like it did my father, okay?”
Blayne nodded. “I’ll work through it, even if it means seeing a shrink, all right?”
Though he didn’t look one hundred percent convinced, Graham appeared more relaxed and not as antagonistic. “Still want to have that beer this weekend and talk some more about what happened in the Middle East?”
Surprised at his friend’s change of heart, Blayne nodded. “Sure. Now, are you done giving me hell about Jemma, or do I need to sit here and take it up the ass some more?”
&
nbsp; Graham laughed, this time the sound genuine and appreciative. “Yeah, I’m done. Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that I love her.”
“Of course you do. But you can’t protect her from life.”
Nodding, Graham said, “Guess I should have figured that out by now. Shit, I also should have guessed this would happen between you two.”
Stunned, it took Blayne a moment to answer. “Why?”
“My wife made some comments in the past when she’s seen you and Jemma together.”
Wary, Blayne asked, “Cynthia made comments? That sounds dangerous.”
Graham shrugged. “She’s very perceptive. Gets me into trouble all the time.” A small pause and then Graham said something Blayne never expected. “What if Jemma’s in love with you? Have you ever thought of that?”
Blayne didn’t say anything for several seconds, surprised down to the root. The concept of any woman being in love with him, least of all sweet Jemma, never entered his mind. Then he remembered Jemma’s tears. “I doubt it. In fact, she said she wanted to think about everything that happened.” Blayne got out of the car and then leaned down to speak again. “She said she wanted time to think about us. My guess is she feels the way you do. She wants a sure thing, and that isn’t me. So you don’t have to worry about me breaking her heart.”
Another tight aching touched Blayne’s soul as he tried to imagine leaving on a mission knowing Jemma would return to her life without him. Maybe dating other men. Perhaps marrying another man.
The pain in his heart surpassed any bullet wound.
One more time he gave Graham a crooked smile. “Shit, if anyone’s heart is going to be broken, it might just be mine.”
Graham’s eyes were aggrieved and surprised, their gray color almost silver in the early morning light. Before his friend could speak, Blayne shut the Subaru door and unlocked his car. As his frozen breath penetrated the cold air, he started the car and allowed the windshield to defrost.
Starting right now, he would hole up in his apartment for a day or two and sleep, think, and dream. Maybe by the time the weekend arrived, he’d know how to treat his misery.
* * * * *
“Crud,” Jemma muttered Friday night as she took the first bite of a TV dinner and stared at the evening news.
The so-called Cordon Bleu tasted more like crap than gourmet. Determined, she tried a forkful of green beans and grimaced. Not much better. She took the TV dinner to the kitchen and chucked it into the garbage. Appetite lost, she started a pot of decaffeinated coffee and wandered back into the living room.
As she flopped on the couch she released a drawn-out sigh. Things had seemed flat all week, and she knew why. Although she’d tried reasoning her way out of this stale, almost colorless existence she’d lived this last week of vacation, she couldn’t seem to shake the sense she’d lost something precious. She felt as if she’d betrayed herself, given in to belief systems having nothing to do with who she really was.
All because she’d feared what her brothers and parents would say about Blayne when they found out she’d slept with him. Although he hadn’t said anything else, she knew Graham had figured it out. For all she knew, he might have given Blayne a stern warning to stay away from her. Or maybe Blayne didn’t need admonition; perhaps he decided he didn’t want entanglements.
So all week she avoided the subject whenever Graham hinted at it, and she didn’t ask if he’d heard from Blayne.
Maybe it was better this way. It didn’t matter that her dreams revolved around wild lovemaking sessions with Major Blayne Forbes, and that she still loved him with all her being.
But, oh, her body ached with wanting him. More than once she lay awake at night and fantasized, remembering how his lips felt on her body, how his cock felt moving inside her. Unable to stand the pressure, she’d stroked her clit until she’d experienced a screaming orgasm. It couldn’t replace Blayne’s lovemaking.
Tears came before she could stop them. Oh, God, she’d messed up everything being wishy-washy and generally stupid. She couldn’t blame Graham or her family, only herself. She should have told Blayne how she felt, then if he rejected her…well, then she would know. Nothing could be as devastating as falling madly in love with a man who would never know how she felt because she feared taking a chance.
As Jemma allowed the tears to flow, she put her head back on the couch and closed her eyes. Yes, she’d get over him given enough time. Maybe.
Then an idea came to mind, one that could cause as much pain as it might ease. She couldn’t allow him to return to his unit and back to combat without telling him what resided in her heart. If something happened to him—
No. She wouldn’t think of that. She stood before she could change her mind and ran into her bedroom. After flipping on the light, she went to the small desk in the corner of her room and grabbed her address book. Then she remembered she didn’t have Blayne’s number. Picking up the phone on the nightstand, she dialed her brother’s house.
His wife Cynthia picked up the phone. Rather than asking for Blayne’s number right away, she made small talk with Cynthia for a few minutes.
Graham’s voice came on the phone moments later. “Hey, sis. What’s up?”
Again she chatted with him about mundane things before she asked for Blayne’s number. To her relief he gave it to her without question.
Then he asked, “You haven’t seen Blayne this week, then?”
“No.”
“I have. He’s got good news, but I’ll let him share it with you.”
She sank onto the bed. “How do you know he’ll want to share with me?”
“I have a feeling he will.”
The smile in her brother’s voice made her more than curious. “Graham—”
“Nope, I’m not ruining it. Besides, Cynthia would kill me if I did.”
She laughed. “Oh, well in that case, to save you from dire consequences, I’ll stop asking.”
“And for my part, I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“I was overprotective. I shouldn’t have interfered in your relationship with Blayne. I didn’t use my skull. I can’t control anything you do. Your life is your life and no one else’s.”
Surprised but relieved they’d jumped the hurdle, she released a deep breath.
“Thanks. But it was as much my fault as yours. I allowed you to tell me what I was going to do with my social life. I know Dad won’t be too thrilled about Blayne, but he’ll have to get used to it.” She made a small sound of despair. “That is, if Blayne wants to be with me.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to hit the jackpot, li’l sis. Wait. Cynthia is giving me dirty looks. I think that means I’ve said enough.”
After they hung up, she dialed Blayne’s apartment, afraid and yet excited. The phone rang three times before the answering machine picked up. A mechanical voice, not Blayne’s, came from the machine. Disappointed, she left a quick message saying she’d try him back later.
She’d barely put the receiver in the cradle when the doorbell rang. She about came out of her skin, a startled sound leaving her throat.
“Take a deep breath,” she muttered as she headed for the door, wondering who it could be.
When she looked through the peephole, her breath hitched in her throat. Blayne stood outside with his eyebrows pinched together as if he was anxious. Happiness to see him glided over her in a tremendous wave. She opened the door, and he gave her a sheepish grin that made him look more like a boy than a warrior.
She gasped when she saw what he held in his hand.
“Hi. These are for you.” He handed her a dozen red roses.
Immediately she clutched them to her, drinking in their heavenly scent. “They’re beautiful.” Jemma’s heart sang a new, beautiful song. “Thank you.”
As she ushered him inside, she felt a powerful need gathering inside her. She had a lot to tell him, but even more, she wanted him. She closed the door and locked it.
Now was
the time to let it rip.
“We’ve got to talk, Sweets.”
“I know.”
Before she could lose her nerve, she placed the roses on the table inside the entry. Before he could remove his down coat, she slipped her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him forward.
“What—?” he started as she tugged his head down.
She smothered his words with her mouth, kissing him softly and slowly. He stilled, then responded, his mouth twisting over hers. With a groan his arms went around her and he immediately took the kiss to the next level, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth. She returned his ardor, kissing him with a madness she didn’t want to contain. His lips demanded, tasting her with a furious desire.
No, he didn’t hate her. In fact, he wanted her with a passion she could feel with each breath and sigh. Overjoyed, she slid down the zipper on his coat and he shrugged out of it, still kissing her. The coat fell on the floor. Slipping his arms around Jemma again, Blayne molded her to his body. He deepened the kiss, his tongue making love to her with pure sex and sin.
When he released her mouth, he whispered against her lips. “How did I stay away from you this long?”
“I’m so sorry. I should have told you how I felt when we were snowed in. I should have—”
His mouth swallowed her words, his kisses frantic. He inched her down the hallway, stopping every once in awhile to nibble and explore. His hands found her breasts through her sweater, and when he flicked his thumbs over her nipples, she whimpered into his mouth.
He tore his mouth free and propped his forehead against hers, his breath coming fast and hard. “We can stop and talk if you want.”
“Are you crazy?” she asked with a smile. “I want you. Talk later.”
Blayne’s eyes held powerful desire, his gaze intense, hot, and refusing to wait for anything. He pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it aside. Reaching behind her, he undid her bra, then flipped it away with a quick movement.
By Honor Bound Page 16