The Dragon's Revenge

by Courtney Henke

  On impulse, she donned shorts and a T-shirt and ran down the beach to get him. At his door, she fought to control her labored breathing and knocked. It was opened immediately by a fully dressed J.D. His slow smile caused her thoughts to tangle into a great big mess.

  "Good morning," he murmured, and claimed her mouth with his. Fire swept over her, but the demands of her body overpowered her desire. As she struggled for air, he relented, laughed, and ushered her in. "Do you want some water? Coffee? Oxygen?"

  "Coffee." She groaned the word, leaping at his room service table like a starving woman. Before she could gulp from the cup she poured, he stayed her hand with a glass of orange juice.

  "Sip it. You won't burn your mouth with this."

  Remembering what she'd done the previous morning, she complied, and slowly her breathing returned to normal. With a heartfelt sigh, she sank into a chair and stretched her legs before her, glaring at her betrayers. "I think I'm getting old," she announced disgustedly.

  "Senility is usually the first sign," he agreed.

  She scowled at him. "I'm not senile."

  "Only an insane woman would run after all the activities of yesterday." He grinned. "Or a very determined one."

  "Determined." She nodded. "I like that word better." She chuckled, a sound mixed with a moan, and she slid lower into the chair. "I hurt all over! I thought it would be easier! How do you do this three times a week?"

  His brows raised in an exaggerated expression of Innocence. "I don't 'do it’ three times a week. At least not until I met you."

  Her eyes narrowed. "Fencing."

  "Oh, that! I fence four times a week. But I've been doing it since I was sixteen." His smile softened. "If It's any consolation, my muscles ached after that workout you gave me on the beach with the football."

  She smiled. "It helps. Thanks." Quickly, before she lost her momentum, she stood. "So, teach, what's on the agenda today? Do I get to aim at you or what?"

  "No. Patience, love. You've only had one lesson. Finish your coffee."

  "If I sit back down, I’ll freeze that way." She walked to the door and beckoned to him. "Race you back."

  Shaking his head, J.D. followed, carrying the foils. He wasn't surprised to find her waiting on the beach. "I couldn't leave you behind," she told him with mock concern. "Not with your heavy load and everything."

  "Uh-huh."

  She chuckled at his suspicious tone and snaked an arm around his waist. She felt comfortable with him, she realized. She'd had friends before, even one who had become a lover, but never had she had this sense of well-being with anyone. It had nothing to do with his feelings for her; this was all on her part. And for some reason, it didn't feel as frightening by the light of day. Even his unconscious little endearments didn't make her clench up Inside anymore.

  Sighing, she purposely mismatched her steps with J.D. and giggled as he strove to match them. By the time they reached her house, both were laughing playfully.

  "I really do need my morning dose of coffee," she told him as they walked to her door. She paused, spun, and grabbed his shoulders, her expression stern. "Just brace yourself."

  Confused, J.D. frowned. "For what?"

  Holding his gaze, she threw open her door. "For my worst nightmare."

  He glanced beyond her, and his jaw dropped. "What happened?" He passed her and stared around at her tidy living room, the neatly ordered ranks of books and dragons, neatly stacked magazines, the brightly polished furniture. J.D. couldn't remember her house ever being really dirty, but it had always looked like a hurricane had hit it. Until now. "It's—it's—"

  "Blinding?" she supplied as she closed the door. "Some people chain-smoke when they're nervous, some people bite their nails. Julia cleans. I heard her down here again last night around three. She even dusted my computer, key by key with a dry watercolor brush. Eerie, huh?" She gave a quick rendition of The Twilight Zone theme. "You open a door and—"

  "I thought I heard someone." A tiny redhead blinked sleepily and paced down the staircase. "Hi, Charly. You must be the infamous J. D. Smith." She seemed to glide to him, her hand outstretched. "I'm Julia. My, you're not nearly as ugly as some of the stories led on. And I do believe you have all your own teeth too. How disappointing."

  J.D. stifled his astonishment with manners drilled Into him from childhood and clasped her hand firmly. Like her pretty face, her hand was covered with freckles. Julia's accent was faintly British, and he remembered Charly's saying something about her being a military brat. Though only five feet tall, she radiated a warmth he found hard to resist. "Is someone spreading tales about me?"

  "According to David, you have lecherous designs on Charly."

  "But I do."

  Her brown eyes opened wide, then she chuckled. “I like that in a man."

  "Where's Aaron?" asked Charly quickly.

  "On post." said Julia placidly, her twitching left eye the only sign of disturbance. "He received a phone call about a half an hour ago from the Department of Defense, then rushed out without a word."

  J.D. stiffened slightly, but Charly was the only one to notice—and wonder.

  Julia went on, "The only reason I'm not scrubbing your kitchen floor with a toothbrush is that he seemed happy about something. I thought someone had possibly broken your boyfriend's legs." Julia looked him over. "But he seems in perfect working order."

  "Oh, that he is, Julia," Charly commented with a twinkle in her eyes.

  "Good. Then I shall retire back to my spinning bed "

  "Would you like some breakfast?"

  Julia turned a delicate shade of green. "No, thank you. Charity. I shall stick to my tea."

  As she crept slowly back up the stairs J.D. smiled, hoping, for Julia's sake, that Amanda's general had had something to do with Aaron's sudden excitement. It would give him a lot of pleasure to see a smile on her face. "I like her. Your brother's luckier than he knows." Then a thought hit him. A tiny frown creased his brow. What had Julia said?

  "Oh, he knows all right. That's why he's so upset about this trans—"

  J.D. turned startled eyes to Charly as Julia's words sunk in.

  "—fer ..." she finished weakly.

  To his astonishment, a blush crept into her cheeks. "Charity?" he whispered.

  "It's my name," she shot back through clenched teeth.

  "Is this the real reason you didn't want me to meet them?"

  Defiantly, she tilted her chin and glared at him. "So?"

  His mouth quivered as he gathered her into his arms. "My name is John," he told her with as much solemnity as he could muster.

  It took her a moment, but suddenly her blue eyes lit with amusement. "John Smith?"

  "The Fourth," he said.

  Valiantly, she fought her instinctive reaction. "I like J.D. better," she said. Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat. "As in 'juvenile delinquent.' "

  "Oh, I don't know. I think Charity suits you to a tee." He kissed her before either could break into laughter, but it didn't work. Their lips curved at the same moment, and they shared something even more momentous than a bed.

  Their fencing lesson was hardly J.D.'s rigid instructor's idea of proper. Lingering caresses punctuated his description of body quadrants, sudden bursts of amusement broke into concentration, and stolen kisses inhibited relaxed movement. Even so, he told her at the end of the session, she was progressing.

  Charly promptly progressed down his chin to his chest.

  Giggling, exchanging wicked, whispered taunts, they entered the house arm in arm sometime after noon. Telling him she had to kick off her shoes, Charly poised herself beside the closet, braced for the tumble. But when she threw open the door, she froze.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, instantly concerned.

  "Those spiders were my friends." Her voice quivered dramatically. "The woman's a murderer!"

  He looked over her shoulder Into the perfectly ordered closet. "Life is hard," he told her.

  In spite of their other
activities, both had worked up a sweat with their practice in the warmth of the sun. Standing In Charly's kitchen beside the washer. J.D. declared that he needed a shower and his clothes needed one too. He then proceeded to unbutton his shirt, his dancing green eyes holding Charly's as they widened in astonishment.

  "J.D.," she whispered. "Julia's upstairs."

  "No, she's not." He stripped off his damp shirt and tossed it into the machine. "I heard her leave about an hour ago."

  Charly's blood pulsed through every inch of her body as her gaze lingered on his tightly muscled chest. "You heard the door," she said without conviction. "You don't know if she left."

  "Do you hear anyone in the house?" He unzipped his jeans.

  Her tongue darted out to moisten suddenly dry lips as he pushed his pants down his legs. This quiet striptease was driving her crazy. "No. But that doesn't mean they couldn't come back at... at the crucial moment."

  "That's true," he agreed as he peeled off his socks. "We’ll have to hurry."

  Charly groaned. His masculinity was clearly outlined by the thin fabric of his red briefs, and she almost relented. "Brothers are worse than grunion," she whispered. "They'd interrupt, I just know it." When he approached her with a wicked smile on his face, she turned away with a growl of pure frustration and clenched her fist on the counter. "Go take your shower."

  He nuzzled her neck. "Join me?"

  It was too much for her feeble willpower. "Okay. I’ll start the washer and be up in a minute." She turned and gave him a lingering kiss. "I like it hot," she whispered.

  "Don't I know it," he muttered, then took the stairs two at a time.

  She watched him, stunned by the power of her attraction. The man had turned her into an addict, and she wondered if her cravings for him would ever be as easy to kick as chocolate had been. When she heard the water begin, she shook herself and pulled her socks off. Her shorts were next, but as she began to pull off her shirt, she heard the creak of the stairs.

  "Patience," she called. "Get back in the bathroom, you sex maniac."

  "I’ll admit that's what got me into my present condition. But I hardly think Aaron would tell tales."

  Shocked, Charly spun to find Julia on the step, regarding her with a wide grin. She made a grab for her shorts. "I thought you'd gone!"

  "Aaron came home. He's asleep." Her face positively glowed as she rushed toward Charly and hugged her tightly. "His orders were changed back. Charity! Can you believe it? We're staying here!"

  Charly gaped at her sister-in-law, thanking heaven she had fought her urges. Otherwise Julia might have been far more stunned than she. "But—how—"

  "Someone called the Inspector General to begin an inquiry. It wasn't Aaron's fault!"

  Warmed by Julia's happiness, Charly returned the embrace, momentarily forgetting J.D. "Oh, Julia. I'm so happy for you!"

  "He’ll be here when the baby comes, and I—" She sobbed. "I was so afraid of being alone for the birth. Now, he—" She drew back and wiped her tears away. "Sorry. I'm not usually such a—a watering pot."

  "Honey, if anyone has a right to be, you do. But how did this happen? I thought Aaron cussed out a colonel!"

  "He was merely defending one of his men, and he was not insubordinate. Your brother is a lot of things. Charity, but he is no fool." She sniffed. "When his orders were changed to Korea, we had no way of proving that it was an act of pure malice by his commanding officer. We couldn't even begin an investigation for fear it would look like Aaron was simply whining about his new post. But someone else did it!" She sighed. "Whoever it was, I will always be eternally grateful."

  "Me, too, honey." Tears misted Charly's eyes. "And I get to see my niece—"

  A muted bellow cut her words off. She glanced at the ceiling, suddenly remembering J.D.

  "Aaron," whispered Julia. "I forgot all about him. I think he's just met your J.D."

  "Oh, hell," Charly muttered, and made an automatic grab for her clothes.

  A small herd of buffaloes seemed to clatter down the stairs, stopping her in her tracks. "Charly!" her brother yelled, "there's a naked man in your bathroom!"

  Charly strove to remain calm. "Do you expect him to wear his clothes in there?" she asked reasonably, wondering if J.D. would need X rays.

  "He's out now." Aaron's tone was strange.

  Her eyes narrowed. "If you’ve hurt him, I’ll—"

  "I didn't touch him!" Dazed, Aaron frowned. "I yelled right into his face and he just said, 'You must be Aaron. I'm J.D.' Then he shook my hand and soaped his arms."

  Charly bit her lip. That poker face of J.D.'s sure came in handy. Maybe she should cultivate one herself.

  "Hello to you, too, darling." Julia wove her arms around her, husband's waist, and his face softened as he kissed her.

  "Charly!" called J.D. "Do you have a robe?"

  Charly giggled. "I'd better get him something, or he's likely to come downstairs in the buff."

  "I’ll do it," Aaron said. "He's probably in the buff right now."

  "Aaron—" she began, but the stubborn set of his jaw stopped her. "I don't have one that'll fit him."

  "I do." He stomped upstairs.

  "He blusters and he bellows," Julia said with a laugh. "But he likes him. I can tell. Aaron hates cringers."

  "Right."

  "Don't worry. Charity. We’ll be out of your way tonight."

  "Right," she muttered again absently. She had just remembered something about J.D.'s attitude earlier when Julia had mentioned Aaron's excitement this morning. It hadn't hit her before, but J.D.'s poker face hadn't quite functioned that time. He hadn't butted in again, not after he knew how she felt about it!

  Had he?

  Julia shook her gently by the shoulder, and she brought herself back to reality. "Huh?"

  "I said, why don't you and J.D. join us for a celebratory dinner?"

  Charly smiled grimly. "I don't think that's such a good idea. I don't want to spoil it for you." Like with a little murder, she added silently.

  "Ah! You want to be alone."

  "No witnesses," Charly muttered under her breath.

  Julia frowned, her mind once again on her own problems. "I'd better find something for Aaron to wear. The army is perfect in that respect—he has no choice. It's either his uniform or his uniform. Civilian clothing baffles him."

  Before she took a step. Aaron hurried back down the stairs, buttoning a yellow shirt over ocher slacks. Julia winced, then diplomatically suggested they leave early. Aaron frowned at his sister, but his wife's pleading softened him in a way that Charly had never been able to, and he agreed.

  Once they'd left, Charly stormed the stairs. She found J.D. in her bedroom, only partially dressed. Ignoring the warmth that blossomed inside her, she crossed her arms over her chest and shot from the hip.

  "Did you have anything to do with my brother's sudden change of orders?"

  J.D.'s hand froze in the act of buttoning his shirt Just for a moment, then he continued. "Yes."

  Charly's anger blazed, and she felt a sharp stab of pain. "You stuck your nose in my business again!"

  "He needed help." He lifted his gaze from his task, his green eyes unwavering. "I could give it. You couldn't. It was as simple as that."

  "I didn't ask for your help!"

  "You didn't need it."

  "That's not the point!"

  “That's exactly the point. Your brother was in the bind, not you. And my mother is dating a retired general who was absolutely delighted to help."

  Her nostrils flared, and she took a deep breath, attempting to quell her hurt. "And Hogan's art scholarship?"

  "I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done yourself, if you'd known the right people. I haven't interfered in your business at all. You handled Hogan, Melissa, the razing of those shacks. I just opened doors a couple of times. The truth did the rest."

  "Words. Tactics. You're good with those, aren't you, J.D." she turned away, clenching her fists. Tears stung her eyes. "What a
bout your speech last night, huh? Does 'sharing' mean anything to you?"

  "It means everything to me. I love you, but this wasn't about you. Would you keep them from their happiness just because your pride got in the way?"

  Charly closed her eyes and shuddered. She'd never thought about it that way. "You could have told me.”

  He moved up behind her and touched her shoulder. She flinched away, but he persisted. "If I would have, what would you have done?"

  "Told you to go to he—heck."

  "Exactly." He brushed aside her hair and kissed the sensitive spot below her ear. "And could you have done either of those things yourself?"

  His warm breath sent shivers up her spine. His rationalization drained her fury as his touch eroded her pain. "You didn't give me the chance to find out.”

  "You're absolutely right." His tongue trailed along the chord of her neck.

  "Don't do that," she murmured, her tone belying her words.

  "What?"

  "Kiss me."

  "I like to kiss you."

  "We're arguing, dammit!"

  "No, you're arguing. I'm agreeing."

  Why couldn't he yell back at her? What power did he have over her that she couldn't even find the tiniest spark of anger left? "You're cheating," she whispered desperately.

  "I'm equalizing." Then his hands turned her, and his mouth found hers.

  Charly wondered if she'd ever understand him, or herself, as she gave in to the sensations.

  * * *

  A long time later, she lay on her stomach, utterly sated, as J.D. blew warm kisses all over her back. She chuckled suddenly. "The grunion have run," she murmured.

  "On the other side of the beach." He traced her spine to the small of her back. "Leaving the mice to play."

  "That's a cat," she said thickly. "You're mixing your metaphors."

  "Sue me." He paused, then stiffened suddenly. "Charly," he said in a strange tone. "I thought you hated roses."

  So he had finally found the last of her secrets. She stifled the panic that thought brought. "I dislike men who think roses can solve problems."