Hope things are going well with you, that you’re getting stronger every day. I’ll write from Greece. I’m looking forward to wading the shores of the Mediterranean. Who knows what sort of treasure I’ll find, though admittedly I’ve already found the greatest one—love. And now that I’ve officially sickened you with my happiness, I’ll sign off.
Hugs and love,
Natalie
P.S. Stop avoiding Winnie, you stubborn ass. She’s good for you.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3422-6
LETTERS FROM HOME
Copyright © 2009 by Rhonda Nelson.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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www.eHarlequin.com
Twelve military heroes.
Twelve indomitable heroines.
One UNIFORMLY HOT! miniseries.
Don’t miss a story in Harlequin Blaze’s first 12-book continuity series, featuring irresistible soldiers from all branches of the armed forces.
First up are those sexy men of the U.S. Army…
THE REBEL
by Rhonda Nelson
January 2011
BREAKING THE RULES
by Tawny Weber
February 2011
IN THE LINE OF FIRE
by Jennifer LaBrecque
March 2011
Uniformly Hot!
The Few. The Proud. The Sexy as Hell.
Dear Reader,
Ahh, Valentine’s Day. Hearts and flowers, candlelight and romance. I absolutely love the month of February! Even more fun is adding a hunky military hero to the mix. My own real-life hero is ex-military, so I have a special place in my heart for soldiers and the amazing sacrifices they make for us. So I was really excited to be able to write a Uniformly Hot! story featuring an army hero.
Breaking the Rules is all about control. My heroine, Sophia, finally has control of her life and doesn’t intend to lose it again. Max, my hero, has never let a little thing like rules get in the way of what he wants.
Putting these two together made for instant sparks. And where there are sparks, fire’s sure to follow.
I wish you a very happy Valentine’s Day.
Tawny Weber
P.S. If you’re on the web, please drop by my website at www.TawnyWeber.com. I’d love to hear from you.
Tawny Weber
BREAKING THE RULES
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tawny Weber is usually found dreaming up stories in her California home, surrounded by dogs, cats and kids. When she’s not writing hot, spicy stories for the Harlequin Blaze line, she’s shopping for the perfect pair of shoes or drooling over Johnny Depp pictures (when her husband isn’t looking, of course). Come by and visit her on the web at www.tawnyweber.com.
Books by Tawny Weber
HARLEQUIN BLAZE
324—DOUBLE DARE
372—DOES SHE DARE?
418—RISQUÉ BUSINESS
462—COMING ON STRONG
468—GOING DOWN HARD
492—FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME
513—BLAZING BEDTIME STORIES, VOLUME III
“You Have to Kiss a Lot of Frogs…”
564—RIDING THE WAVES
To Specialist, James Ramirez.
My very own hero. I couldn’t do it without you.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Prologue
SERGEANT FIRST CLASS Maximilian St. James, EOD squad leader, stood at attention at the foot of the hospital bed. Next to him stood the general, also standing ramrod straight. The blistering Afghanistan sun shone through the army medical center window. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled the air.
Specialist Rico Santiago, his leg in traction, returned the general’s salute, waiting until the man glanced away before winking at Max.
His face impassive, Max saluted the general and waited for the return salute. As soon as the ranking officer stepped aside for him to pin the Purple Heart on Rico’s pajama top, Max rolled his eyes at the look of heroic suffering on his buddy’s face.
“Good work, gentlemen,” the general concluded, dismissing them both.
Only when the man moved away did Max let himself grin. He tapped Rico’s cast and arched his brow as if to say, “Told you so.”
“I’d have been fine if you’d presented it,” Rico muttered, but Max could tell the guy was seriously proud to have been pinned by a four-star general.
“You deserved a little pomp,” Max claimed. He’d made sure his man got it, and had pushed to have Rico brought to the joint theater hospital instead of the closer units. Now, shoulders tense from being at constant attention, Max wished for just a second that they’d stuck with a more low-key hospital.
It had nothing to do with being nervous in the presence of brass. Max had cut his baby teeth on brass.
He’d never had one of his men hospitalized before, though.
He was handling it fine. It wasn’t as if he wanted to wince at the sight of the cuts and bruises on Rico’s face. The guy’s leg all trussed up, with pulleys and contraptions wrapped around it, didn’t make his gut clench.
He didn’t feel ill whenever he closed his eyes and flashed back to the paralyzing terror of watching the RPG, or rocket-propelled grenade, hit the ground. The dust and flying dirt had made it impossible to see how bad Rico had been hit. For a heartbeat, he’d frozen when the dust cleared and he saw his man lying there on the ground.
Yep, he was handling it all just fine.
Rico was a smart guy, though.
“Dude, quit feeling guilty. It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was my call to go in and defuse that bomb,” Max muttered, giving in to the need to chill by dropping into the chair next to the bed.
“You didn’t know we’d be ambushed.”
Max shrugged. It should have been a simple bomb detonation. Intel hadn’t offered any insurgent warnings. The village had been peaceful with early morning quiet. Standard bomb disarming operation, just like any other day.
Max had assessed the situation and made the call to go in.
It’d been a bad call.
“That grim look on your face is messing up my hero moment here,” Rico joked.
“You look pretty in your new jewelry,” Max joked, flicking a finger over the commendation on Rico’s chest. “Still, I feel bad leaving you lying here.”
“Dude, you’d be going home whether I was busted up or not. Quit being all mama hen and enjoy your leave.”
Max smirked, always amused at the hokey folky sayings coming out of a big, macho bruiser like Rico. The man was right, though. Max was due to go stateside in twenty-four hours. It was coming up to the anniversary of his father’s death, so whenever possible he took leave to be with his mom on that day.
“But you know…” Rico said, his smile dimming.
Max lost the smirk.
“If you don’t mind?”
“Sure, buddy. Anything.”
“You’re going back to the Bay area, yeah?”
“Yeah.” There had been a St. James of the St. Jameses on Nob Hill as far back as the 1800s. Sure, the house had been rebuilt after the 1906 earthquake, but the snobbery of the family hadn’t changed a bit.
Which meant that while he’d have preferred to spend his month-long leave knocking back tequila with a half dozen bikini-clad hotties on a beach somewhere, that wasn’t gonna happen.
Unless orders prevented it, he was expected to spend Februarys at home. Max had learned the rules at his mother’s knee. As he’d grown older, he’d learned which ones mattered, which could be ignored and how to bend them all to work in his favor.
“A little favor?”
From the look on Rico’s face, a combination of a sheepish grin and the look he got before he pulled one of his notorious pranks, Max figured he’d better hear this standing. He rose slowly, preparing.
“My sister is right outside San Francisco. I told you that, right?” He waited for Max’s nod. “She’s a peach. A real sweet-heart. But she’s swimming in the deep end right now, totally out of her element.”
Max stood at parade rest, listening to Rico extol the virtues of his little sister, the recently widowed sweet innocent.
“So if you could check on her, I’d appreciate it.”
“Just stop in and check on her?” That didn’t sound dangerous.
“Well, maybe make sure she’s got a handle on her business?”
“Check on her and her business?” Max crossed his arms, eyeing Rico’s cast and wondering just how hurt he really was.
“And, you know, make sure any guys sniffing around are worthy.”
“Check on her, her business and the men in her life?”
Rico winked. “If you want, you can shovel out the guys. Sophia, she’s gorgeous. A real sweetheart. You’re gonna love her.”
Eyes narrowing, Max rocked back on his heels. “Playing cupid, Santiago?”
“Cupid? Hell, no,” Rico said, laughing.
Max relaxed.
“Dude, you take one look at my little sister and you’re gonna fall so hard and fast, that flying baby’s gonna get whip-lash before he can let off a single arrow.” Rico levered himself up with difficulty, then slapped Max on the arm. “The two of you? Perfect. Absolutely perfect for each other.”
“That bomb rocked your brain? You know I’m not gonna romance your sister. It’s against the rules.”
“What rules?”
“All the rules. The ‘don’t date your buddy’s sister’ rules. The ‘don’t get seriously involved when you’re serving on a dangerous tour overseas’ rules. The ‘soldiers make lousy husbands’ rules.” Max arched a brow. “You weren’t suggesting I go home and just fool around with your sister, were you?”
Rico moved so fast that the metal bed ground against the cement floor as his traction pulley trapped him in place.
“See, rules.” Max nodded, pleased his point was made so easily. “I’ll check on your little sister, Santiago. But that’s it. Nothing’s gonna happen.”
1
SIS: IT’S CRAZY HERE. Hot, ugly, intense. My kinda place. Still, I miss home. The pictures you sent of the seal pups in Yerba Buena made me smile. But who was that chick with the pink hair? Did her T-shirt really say Blow Me? What kind of people are you running with? You’d better be careful. You know there are jerks out there who’d take advantage of your money, right? Don’t trust people unless one of mis hermanos checks them out first, okay? Speaking of, I’ve got a buddy stopping by. He’s a good guy and helped me out of a tight spot. He promised to check up on you. Treat him nice. He’s the kind of guy you should be thinking about, okay? A stand-up guy with full pockets and real integrity.
Think about it.
Love ya, Rico.
Holy cow, Rico was matchmaking from a battle zone. Her brother was certifiable. Sophia Castillo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. A typical reaction when dealing with her family.
She wasn’t sure which was worse, though. That he thought he could check up on her? Or the idea that he’d found some guy who had… How’d he put it? Full pockets? As if she’d have the slightest interest in dating at this point in her life, let alone care what was in some guy’s pants. So typical, given that none of the men in her family thought she was capable of taking care of herself.
Sophia smiled anyway, though. Even if he was an overprotective, meddling busybody, she was proud of her brother. Bad boy Rico Santiago had finally found his path in life. A member of EOD, the U.S. Army’s bomb disposal unit, he was halfway through his 365-day tour in Afghanistan. Risking his life, defending his country. And still bossing his little sister around.
Trying to boss her around, Sophia corrected as the phone rang.
“Esprit de l’Art,” she answered, as always loving the sound of the art gallery’s name rolling off her tongue.
“Sophia?”
Recognizing her lawyer’s voice, Sophia closed her eyes and said a little prayer, then replied, “Olivia, hello. I hope you have some good news for me?”
“Is no news good news?” the other woman asked.
Sophia winced. If Olivia was trying to make jokes, the morning’s settlement negotiation hadn’t gone well.
“She wouldn’t budge?” Even though she’d known it was a long shot, Sophia’s stomach still sank into the toes of her sassy red heels. She’d have dropped her head on her desk and let it bounce a few times, but she figured with her luck she’d damage the desk. And she couldn’t afford to replace it.
“I’m sorry. Ms. Castillo’s lawyer stood firm on their demands. They want you to release all claims to your late husband’s estate. They’re not willing to negotiate.”
It’d been eight months since Sophia’s husband of four years had died of a heart attack. The abrupt loss had been a shock. But the reality was, she’d spent the year before he’d died mourning the loss of the man she’d loved after she’d finally realized the charming hero she’d idealistically married only existed in her imagination.
Nineteen years her senior, Joseph Castillo had swept her off her feet. He’d been wealthy, intellectual and polished. Everything Sophia had dreamed about as a poor little girl growing up in a huge family of bossy brothers and a father too busy supporting all of them to pay much notice to his youngest child.
The first year of her marriage had been a fairy tale. Joseph had been wonderful. He’d even bought the gallery she’d loved since childhood for her as a wedding gift. Indulgent and sweet, he’d treated her like a princess. And she’d done everything she could to be worthy of her charming prince. It’d been in their second year of marriage that things had gotten rocky.
To this day, she didn’t know if it was because she’d started feeling comfortable enough to start asserting her normal independence, something she’d sidelined in the uniqueness of being taken care of, or if it was Joseph’s waning attention as the novelty of his new bride faded. Probably a combination of the two. But things subtly changed. So subtly it’d taken Sophia three years to see the deliberate erosion of her confidence. A master of passive-aggressive power plays, Joseph had wanted her to remain the naively devoted worshiper he’d married and he’d done everything he could to keep her there.
In the end, Sophia had barely recognized herself under the layers of silk, diamonds and obedience.
And she definitely hadn’t recognized the man she’d married.
“So what next?” she asked her lawyer, dreading the answer but needing to know. Never again was she going to hide away and hope things would just get better. She’d learned the hard way that sitting with her eyes scrunched closed and her fingers crossed was only good for wrinkles and hand cramps.
“You want it all, she wants it all. So next, we go to trial,” Olivia said briskly, as if Sophia
having the intimate details of her life publically smeared in court wasn’t anything to stress about. “We have an excellent chance of walking away with everything. Joseph’s will clearly stated that eighty percent of his estate was to go to you. Despite your stepdaughter’s claim that you were going to file for divorce and in so filing, would void the prenup, you didn’t actually take any legal steps. Intention isn’t fact.”
As usual, the thought of divorce sent a feeling of failure washing over Sophia. She’d been brought up to believe that marriage was forever. Despite her family’s oh-so-vocal doubts—or maybe because of them—she’d been determined, even when things started to fall apart, to have that idyllic forever.
Part of her had even hoped that the shock of suggesting they end their marriage would somehow push them into fixing things.
Apparently, she’d still been a little naive. But not any longer. Now she had priorities. And priority number one was her gallery.
“What about the money? Can’t I access any of my bank accounts? I’ve been living on what Esprit brings in for the past six months. And given the mess Joseph created last year, it’s not bringing in much.”
“The joint accounts are all frozen. I’ve requested an audience with Judge Langley to negotiate. Ms. Castillo refused arbitration, so I might be able to use that as a leverage to get at least a portion of the money released.”
Sophia wasn’t surprised that her stepdaughter had refused arbitration. Lynn was bitter. Younger than Sophia by only a couple of years, she’d been raised by her mother and taught young to hate everything her father stood for. Except, apparently, his money.
Uniformly Hot! Volume 1 from Harlequin: Letters from HomeBreaking the RulesComing Up for Air Page 15