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Against All Odds (Outback Hearts)

Page 4

by Silva, Jezz de


  A pained groan leaked out of her neighbor as his stone jaw thudded onto his granite chest.

  “Sergeant Harper is a recipient of Australia’s greatest military honor for gallantry, the Victoria Cross, and was recently awarded one of America’s highest military decorations, the Distinguished Service Cross for his brave and selfless actions in the Middle East. Sergeant Harper, it’s an honor to have you on board, sir, and on behalf of Qantas, the cabin crew, and a grateful nation, I’d like to thank you for your service.”

  As she replayed the captain’s words, her gigantic neighbor tried burrowing deeper into his kiddy seat. He shook his head and mumbled a string of whispered curses as realization shot through her like a bolt of lightning from the thunderstorm that circled low over her head.

  Ryder…Sergeant Ryder Harper…oh for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t just an imaginary superhero. He was the real freaking deal. She didn’t know whether to bow, salute, or get him to stand up so she could kiss his magnificent butt. The only thing saving her from making a complete fool of herself was that for the first time since seeing him, his eyes didn’t meet hers. Oh, he was looking at her all right, but not like she was an hors d’oeuvre. He was…uncomfortable, almost…nervous?

  Images and fragments of memory tumbled into place—the lion among the wildebeests, the camouflaged duffle and backpack, the combat boots, the scars on his face, the way gravity didn’t seem to affect him. No wonder he reeked of mayhem and testosterone. The guy was a damned war hero. Then why did he look like a giant frightened teddy bear? Before she could figure out what was going on with her neighbor, a stewardess pulled up beside her and cleared her throat.

  “Please excuse me, Sergeant Harper. One of our first-class passengers would like to offer you his seat. If you’d like to follow me, I can get you settled before we start our meal service.”

  The stewardess’s huge sapphire eyes crawled over every inch of him. Abi grabbed her seat’s armrests to stop herself from jumping into the aisle and telling the perfectly polite and way-too-put-together stewardess with the dreamy smile to back the hell up. Abi blinked and shook her head but still couldn’t understand what had come over her. But as her temporary insanity ebbed, the memory of her neighbor contorting himself into his tiny seat and the image of what thirteen hours in economy class would do to him extinguished whatever jealousy swirled in her belly.

  “I-I mean, that’s really nice, but…”

  She turned toward the whispered words and found him shaking his head and gazing between the stewardess and her with wide eyes, and his hands held up almost in surrender. If she hadn’t seen his lips move, she wouldn’t have believed the words came from him.

  The stewardess unleashed a smile that must have caused many a businessman to question their fidelity. “Please don’t worry. He was most insistent. He asked me to let you know he’d be proud to do it.”

  “Thanks, but I-I just…”

  She was probably nuts—hell, she was definitely missing a few spark plugs—but something deep inside her was convinced Sergeant Ryder Harper would rather stuff himself inside his seat pocket than be paraded through the plane like some…well, like some war hero. Someone wanting attention wouldn’t have turned up to the airport in jeans and a T-shirt with a disgusting hat propped on his head and given up his first-class seat to an exhausted woman and her child. Her libido blinded her with an image of him in dress uniform before she shook it clear and leaned closer. No, she wasn’t crazy…not about this anyway.

  His desperate eyes fell on her, and her numb brain finally kicked into gear. Adrenaline flooded her gut along with a bucket of crazy sauce and a few more drops of jealousy that she didn’t have the mental capacity to explore. What was the worst that could happen?

  Without giving herself time to answer, she captured his hand and yanked it into her lap before pouting like a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl. “But you promised we’d spend this time together, it’s been so long, and I’ve missed you so much.” She’d even managed a hiccup in the middle of her performance. Maybe she’d picked up some tricks from her sister after all.

  If she’d thought he looked uncomfortable before, her Oscar-worthy portrayal of a clingy girlfriend propelled him into a whole new world of hurt. She winked and tried squeezing his hand, but the damned thing was so big she could only grab his fingertips. And by then his eyes had narrowed and his mouth once again pulled into that predatory grin.

  Instead of tugging his hand free, he drew her forward as his jet-black pupils pierced hers. The hum of the engines, the passengers’ chatter, the stewardess hovering behind her, the thudding of her heart, the breath gushing from her mouth, and the screaming in her head evaporated as he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers.

  The heat and softness were everything she’d dared dream of while lying alone in bed and nothing like she’d expected all at the same time. Fireworks cracked, violins sang, and Celine Dion belted out “The Power of Love” in her head. He’d barely touched her, but he’d taken her from mind-numbing confusion and terror into blissful unconsciousness within a heartbeat. His attack had been so unexpected she hadn’t even closed her eyes, which was just as well because she wouldn’t have believed it actually happened if she hadn’t seen it, and even after witnessing his attack, she still wasn’t a 100 percent sure.

  By the time she’d caught her breath and refocused, he’d eased away to look over her shoulder at the stewardess. Although his eyes were firmly fixed on the woman standing behind her, his presence enveloped her in waves of masculine power and dominance that was as reassuring as it was terrifying.

  He smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’ve already spent way too much time away from this incredible woman. Can you please pass on my gratitude and let him know how much his offer means to me?”

  His voice once again contained the confidence and potency of a best-in-show stud bull while she whimpered and crawled back into the real world with her lips burning and her body smoldering.

  “Yes…yes, of course. Are you sure there’s nothing else we can do to make your trip more comfortable?”

  His gaze slid to hers before returning to the stewardess. “My fiancée and I have barely enjoyed a proper meal together since I deployed. Would it be possible to treat her to the first-class menu?”

  “Of course, sir, it’ll be our pleasure. I’ll bring you the menu and wine list as soon as possible, and please accept my best wishes for your upcoming wedding.”

  His smile grew until it consumed his face. “Thank you, but we haven’t set a date yet.” He squeezed her hand and nudged her with his elbow. “I was so desperate to propose I didn’t even have a ring.”

  It took another harder squeeze to snap her out of her daze. She slowly turned and found the stewardess’s huge eyes darting between her apparent fiancé, her naked ring finger, and her numb face with a mixture of suspicion, jealousy, and wonder. The woman had every right to be suspicious, maybe even jealous, but that whole wonder thing grated on what was left of her nerves. What, she wasn’t capable of landing a man like Sergeant Harper?

  She ignored reality tapping her on the shoulder and cuddled up closer to him. “He was so pathetic and desperate the fourth time he proposed, I didn’t have the heart to turn him down again.”

  The stewardess’s mouth gaped. She caught herself and manufactured a smile out of what was left of her composure. “You make a perfect couple.”

  The stewardess only looked back once as she made her hesitant way down the aisle. When Abi was sure the woman was out of sight, she wheeled on her neighbor to find him just a few inches away. Before she could blink he leaned forward and kissed her again. Her system shuddered, sparked to life, then shut down completely as his heat and power flowed into her. This kiss wasn’t a gentle peck for the benefit of an audience, it was deep, sensual, and ended way too soon.

  She opened her eyes to find him cringing behind his free hand. He slowly lowered his arm and blew out a breath that tousled his fringe. She should’ve been ou
traged. She should’ve felt violated, but the truth was even more shocking.

  The rare fumbling make-out and groping sessions resulting from the few dates she’d been on had been exciting and scary, but this was a whole different league of BASE-jumping, wingsuit-flying crazy.

  She understood the first kiss—hell, she’d have pretended to be pregnant to get her greedy lady-paws on the first-class menu—but the second kiss?

  He cleared his throat and slowly eased his hand free of her grip. “I-I’m sorry, I just followed your lead.”

  A chill skittered up her arm without the heat of his hand. “What about the second kiss?”

  He must have picked up the pathetic tremor in her voice because he grinned. “I figured if I got punched in the face for harassing you I may as well make the most of it.”

  The delicious tension that had coiled around her insides eased enough for her to return his smile. Even if whatever the hell this was ended up being just a thirteen-hour marriage of gastronomic convenience, they’d still be the most exciting hours of her life.

  His smile dimmed as he shrugged. “So, how much trouble am I in?”

  She had no idea how much trouble he was in, but she was in deep shit. She fanned out her fingers and pretended to check her nails as she reveled in the electricity pulsing through her. Who was this woman hiding inside her skin, and how would she find her again when she landed in Brisbane and said good-bye to this man? “Depends on the menu.”

  He raised one scarred eyebrow.

  She fought back a grin and met his suspicious gaze with her best principal’s scowl. She wanted him to kiss her again, hell, she may never want him to stop kissing her, but that didn’t mean she had to make it easy on the smart-ass. “Tell me, Sergeant, do you make a habit of accosting stunningly beautiful, cultured, sophisticated women?”

  He grinned and edged closer. He’d barely moved, but her body reacted as if he’d torn his threadbare T-shirt to ribbons and treated her to a lap dance. She held her ground and challenged his smile with one of her own.

  He slowly raised a finger and gently pushed the bridge of her glasses up her nose. “Only stunningly beautiful, cultured, sophisticated women with smart mouths and eyes like sunsets.”

  Her abs hadn’t experienced a sit-up in years, but that didn’t stop the traitors from crushing her insides. His gaze slid to her mouth, and by the time his eyes returned to hers her stomach screamed for mercy.

  Smart mouth, check. She’d been told on more than one occasion that her mouth was a lot smarter than the brain driving it. But eyes like sunsets? The only male who’d ever commented on her eyes and told her she was beautiful was her dad, and dads didn’t count; they had to stretch the truth. Left with no other defense in her pitiful arsenal, she burst out laughing and tried shoving him away.

  He shook his head and chuckled. “Too much?”

  Her hands thudded against his chest. She may as well have tried moving a boulder. He glanced down at the fingers splayed over his pecs and inched his gaze along her arms, up her neck, and over her mouth before settling in her eyes. In half an hour this stranger had looked at her more than all her other dates combined. It should’ve freaked her out, but fear wasn’t pumping electricity through her twitching muscles, oh hell no. It was something way scarier.

  He raised his arm and checked a black tactical watch that looked capable of firing lasers and calling in air strikes. “If we’re going to get away with this scam, we’ve got no time to mess around with small talk.” He counted off with his fingers. “I’m going to need to know your likes and dislikes, what you do for a living, how long you plan to be in Australia, where you’ll be staying, your relationship status, and your sleeping habits.” He paused and wiggled his eyebrows. “And what’s on that to-do list of yours.”

  She hid the smile threatening to take over her face behind a glare. “Relationship status, sleeping habits?”

  His confused look was as charming as it was total bullshit. “The army taught me to always be prepared.”

  “Isn’t that the Boy Scouts?”

  “Close enough. Spill it, fiancée.”

  “And how do I know you’re not going to use the information to stalk or rob me? You could be a serial killer for all I know.”

  He reared back as if she’d struck him. “Didn’t you hear the captain? I’m a war hero. I’ve even got the medals to prove it. I can show you when we land.”

  She hated to think of what he must have endured to earn those medals, but his reaction to the captain’s announcement confirmed he wasn’t fishing for adulation. He was, however, hunting her and that had her normally agile brain struggling to keep up. “I thought soldiers shaved their heads.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair before cupping the top of his head. “They let the old guys losing their hair grow it out.”

  His biceps, triceps, and a few other ’ceps she hadn’t known existed stretched his sleeve as he faked embarrassment and finger-combed his hair over. It took a conscious effort to close her mouth. He’d put his body through some hard miles, but he had a few more decades to reach old. And if he had a bald spot hiding beneath all that shampoo-commercial hair, it might have convinced her there was a God after all. No man deserved hair like that. “I bet you’re going to tell me you’re one of those ninja SEAL guys who are bulletproof and walk through walls.”

  He shook his head and patted his chest. “Nothing as flashy and exciting as that. Just a simple Aussie grunt soldier.”

  The thud of unstoppable force meeting immovable object had her wondering what the hell a SEAL would look like if this guy was a simple grunt soldier.

  He drew in a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “Okay, I see you’re as smart as you are stunningly beautiful.” He paused and chewed his bottom lip before raising a finger. “I tell you what, ask me anything you want. Think of it as speed dating.”

  She huffed and leaned back. “And how will I know you’re telling the truth?”

  He pointed to his face and turned his head from side to side to give her an unobstructed front-row seat to a masterpiece of male ruggedness. “C’mon, look at this. Could something as honest and sweet as this lie?”

  With that cheeky grin promising misadventure and mayhem, he could lie, cheat, and rip innocent hearts to shreds and still leave his helpless victims pining for more.

  As she blinked away the vision of him riding off into the sunset with what was left of her virtue tucked into his saddlebags, he sighed and lowered his hand. “So much for my honest face.” He stopped posing and raised an eyebrow. “What about my earlier act of unprecedented valor and self-sacrifice? Surely that has to convince you of my honorable and pure intentions?”

  She was sure the man had a decent heart—there was simply no other way to explain why he’d given up a first-class ride to jam himself into an economy-class seat—but she was equally unsure of his pure intentions. The man eyed her like she was prey, and even though it was probably all a creation of her delusional, sex-starved imagination, she loved every glorious second of it.

  “Ask me anything you want. I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, no matter how embarrassing and painful.”

  There was only one question she needed to ask to figure out whether he was telling the truth. All she had to do was point at her fuck-you-world, stare-if-you-want scarf and ask him why she hadn’t even caught him sneaking a peek at her head yet. But she was having way too much fun to confront the huge pink elephant hiding beneath the even pinker scarf covering her scalp. The scalp that if she wasn’t so stubborn would’ve been sporting Jennifer Aniston’s hair. Hair that would’ve helped her convince Mr. Dundee to be the first man to take her for a naked spin on the dance floor.

  If she’d worn the wig, she may have been able to prolong the charade until whatever was going to happen between them happened. And he moved on to less complicated pastures and she got on with her holiday of a lifetime. But the weight of the truth bore down on her and shado
wed her every move.

  She scrambled to file everything away, the scent of leather and soap drifting off his skin, the power radiating from him, and the warm comforting weight of his gaze. She wanted to remember everything. Her racing heart, her weightless stomach, the tightness in her chest, and the euphoria of believing a man like him could want her without pity or sympathy clouding his eyes.

  She ignored Olivia’s voice screaming in her head and forced the words from her mouth. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious to know what’s going on beneath the scarf?”

  His jaw dropped, and for the second time since he’d invaded her world he looked unsure of himself.

  Her insides churned but she plowed on. “I haven’t caught you staring once.” She shrugged and dropped her gaze to her lap where she rubbed her hands together. “It’s usually the only thing people see.”

  His gaze fell on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look up, couldn’t bear to see the mischievous, teasing hunger transform into embarrassment and pity.

  “It’s kind of impossible to get past your eyes.”

  She ran his words over and over in her head and searched for even a hint of forced humor or deception but found none. She slowly raised her head and found him staring back just as he’d done since she’d first found him towering above her like something from a dream. Long seconds dragged by before his lips curved into a smile that stole what breath remained in her lungs.

  “Your boobs are pretty spectacular as well.”

  Whatever tension lingering in her body evaporated as chuckle after chuckle bubbled out of her throat. In between gasps for breath, she backhanded his shoulder with enough force to have her fingers tingling, but he didn’t even flinch.

  Relief gave way to curiosity as her laughter ran its course. “You’re not going to ask?”

 

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