by Gennita Low
“Go on,” he urged.
She gathered her memories and tried to gloss over the emotional parts. “He was going to be tall and strong. Big as an ox. And he’d come back and beat up on those horrid people who called me names, who said kids like me were unwanted and useless.” She paused again. “Back then, being mixed-blooded was a sign that the mother was probably unmarried and so the child was a bastard. Basically, my whole future was ruined, and being a woman made it worse. I didn’t know that, of course. I only knew I looked different.”
“You were like those children we saw in the slums that first day,” Jazz interrupted. “You said they were orphans but they weren’t really, were they?”
“No. They were abandoned by their mothers. Or told to stay away from home till nighttime. Or their mothers probably ran away and left them in the care of relatives, which was even worse. But yeah, I was one of them, Jazz.” She closed her eyes, and once again she was the grimy child of the past, fighting bullies, stealing food, and trying to survive. “I had relatives but they didn’t really want me.”
Jazz removed his arm and turned her around to face him. Vivi opened her eyes but could see only the dark outline of his face. His hand was very tender, his knuckles tracing her jaw, then her lips. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Vivi kissed his fingers. “It’s okay, you don’t have to comfort me now. I’m one of the lucky ones who got out. There were many who weren’t as fortunate.” She smoothed a hand over his chest. It was solid and strong. She closed her eyes again. She had never shared her childhood memories this intimately. The version she always gave to people was less personal, with a lot of the details left out. “Anyway, where was I? I wanted to show them I was better than the names they called me, that my father was a god, like the ones depicted on the temple doors—very strong-looking, fierce, in battle gear and holding some big weapon, guarding the place against evil.” She smiled bitterly. “Of course, when I was old enough to dare tell others about this, I was laughed at by the adults. I was so humiliated. I hated their laughter.”
Your father is a what? A god? You’re a slut’s daughter, that’s what you are. Here, here, take a look at your father. Over there, those men that just came to town in the Jeep.
“One day, I saw some soldiers in town. Their hair was light-colored, like mine. One of them had blue eyes. And they were all in uniform, with big shiny weapons. They looked so handsome. Big and strong and…well fed.” She laughed. “I was very hungry, so well fed was kind of attractive, you know? I quickly learned why the older girls were always around these soldiers. I learned that they weren’t gods very, very quickly.”
“You didn’t—”
Vivi shook her head. “No, I didn’t. There was a nice young man who gave me chocolate all the time. He taught me quite a bit of English while he was stationed here, and I think he saved me from his buddies who were less discriminating about the differences between a woman and a child. He was different from some of the other soldiers.”
You stay away from my friends, you understand? Don’t take their chocolate. Say no and run away if you see them drunk, okay? You’re too damn young. You just stay away, especially at night, okay?
“I get why you’re so hostile against anyone in uniform now,” Jazz told her softly. “Growing up in that kind of environment…my God, Vivi. How did you get out of there?”
“I discovered that I could pick up languages easily. Pretty soon I was speaking English and French well enough and was running errands for the soldiers who wanted to buy stuff in town. They gave me food and change; I got to ride in their Jeeps and show off. One day, my friend said goodbye because he had to leave. I was very sad but didn’t think much of it till he was gone. Then I realized how much he had been a buffer for me. He had always sent me off on errands or away from the place when the soldiers were rowdy, and I’d never asked why. With him gone, I saw everything, Jazz. Every disgusting thing that they did. It was a shock to see my heroes doing those things to girls. I knew it was wrong because some of the girls would be crying and saying no, but that never stopped the men when they were drunk. I was very afraid then because I knew this was my fate, that I would end up like…my mother.”
Jazz gathered her closer, and his tender kisses pushed away the pain of reliving the humiliation. She let the minutes drift by, grateful for the comfort given. She didn’t want to admit it but today’s events had hit too close to her heart. She understood adrenaline played a big part in the cathartic release of emotions, that different people reacted to danger differently.
She released a cleansing breath. Today had been more than role-playing. Then all those hours thinking Jazz was dead had been agony. Emotionally, she had been put through a wringer. No wonder she had attacked the man when they had found somewhere to hide. And now it felt right that he be told about her background.
“How did you run away?” he asked, after a long satisfying kiss.
Vivi laid her head against his breast and listened to his heartbeat for a while. “I had a best friend. She was going to be given to this ugly old man. So we decided to run away.”
Vivi, I’m so scared. Where are we going to go? What if we get lost?
Everything is going to be all right, Sia-Sia. We’ll hide out in the temple for a bit.
“We hid in a temple but one of the nuns locked us in the upper room one night. Said that it was for our own good. I tried to convince my friend to escape with me but the window was too small and she was afraid of the height and dark. I knew I had to go, so I went off on my own. Somehow I made my way through the woods and village paths and survived. I don’t remember how long it took, except that I was hungry and tired all the time. Some missionaries mistook me for an orphan and put me in a refugee camp. I must have been very close to the border or something because there were many foreign visitors coming in and out constantly. One day, a woman told me I was adopted and that my new home would be in America.”
She didn’t elaborate about the guilt of leaving her friend behind. She was the stronger of the two and she had promised Sia-Sia she would return for her. She never did. She had carried the guilt all these years, wondering what had happened to her childhood friend.
I hate the dark. When you come back, you’ll bring me something nice, okay?
What do you want?
A new Dan Nhat would be nice. Mine’s all out of tune.
All Jazz wanted to do was to hold Vivi like this and take away all that painful past. He understood how difficult it was for her to tell him about it. His mother was the same way, always telling him and his siblings stories about their dead dad. Whenever they had gone to her about their pain of losing him, she had focused on how strong and brave he had been and that they should be too, and had never once betrayed her own feelings.
As Jazz grew up, he had realized that it was a defense mechanism. His mother was the strongest woman he had ever known. She had been determined to bring up all her children without crying for help and although they had started out dirt poor, she had learned to run a small laundry business.
His mother’s strength had been his moral compass all his life. As a kid, he had helped out with the work and had learned how much a woman would sacrifice for her children. In his job he had seen so many abandoned children that only emphasized how much he owed what he was today to his mother.
Vivi had nobody. And yet she, too, had the strength to overcome her obstacles. She didn’t tell him all that she had gone through but he got the picture. Watching his mother had given him plenty of insight at how some people responded to personal pain and loss.
Vivi had been determined to rise above her lot, and she had succeeded. And she was so alone. From her story, he knew this. She had done everything alone for so long that he knew that sharing her story was something she didn’t do with anyone. In her own way, she was reaching out for his understanding of her past. He was also beginning to realize that he had fallen in love with this remarkable woman.
“It has a happy ending,” he s
aid.
“But not for others.” Her voice cracked a little. “Not for too many girls.”
“You can’t save the whole world, sweetheart. You saved those girls today, and that’s enough for today.” It was a soldier’s philosophy. If one kept imagining the entire bloody war, one would go crazy. Somehow he needed to instill this in her. “Dwell on the positive, Vivi.”
“You don’t understand. I failed so many times. I can’t find homes for them…no solutions. I’m just a total—”
“Sweetheart,” he interrupted because he couldn’t bear to listen to her denigrating herself. “Don’t do this. I understand. Hey, how many times have I told you about my maman and my sisters? Believe me, I take it to heart when I see so many women and children suffering during my tours. You’re not a failure, okay? You are strong and brave, and you are doing something to help. Good things always come to one who works hard.”
There was a silence as Vivi absorbed his words. She snuggled closer, inserting one leg between his thighs. He smiled sleepily in the dark. Strong and brave and sexy as hell.
“Is that what your maman taught you?” Her voice was muffled against his chest, her lips teasing his nipple.
“Something like that.” Right now, his maman should stay away from his mind. His thoughts were starting to get a little too disrespectful.
“I can’t imagine a family, especially one with so many sisters. But they have made you special, do you know that?”
He didn’t want to think about his sisters right now, either. Not when a woman’s tongue was licking his chest. But if she thought he was special because of his sisters, he should talk more about them, he guessed.
“They…tried their best to make me special,” he acknowledged, hissing slightly as sharp little teeth nibbled. “Gave me a sense of humor about women, anyway.”
“Really? I never had that. I wish I had a bunch of sisters to joke around with.” Her sigh was a breath of hot air against his sensitive skin. She moved even closer. “My mother didn’t have a sense of humor at all. Jazz, you’re so lucky to have so many sisters.”
Right now he felt like the luckiest bastard in the whole world, not because he had a bunch of sisters who would rag his ass for talking about them while a woman’s hand was traveling down his body. The topic of conversation was at odds with what was going on in his head, but Vivi needed comfort and reassurance, and he wanted to help her forget. He tried to ignore his body’s growing response to her exploration.
“Do you have a brother?”
Jazz didn’t want to talk about his damn brother. He wanted the hand to go lower, actually. “No.”
“You’re lying. I read your file, you know. What, don’t you think I remember you told me your brother’s name is Zippy? Zippy and Zola…tell me why your mother gave you guys those names.” She wiggled her leg that was between his thighs. “Pins and needles.”
Jazz hadn’t realized how tightly he had clenched his thighs together. He forced himself to relax, allowing her to shift her leg. There was no way to hide his arousal poking into her stomach, of course.
“So, tell me about your brother. Is he like you?”
Zippy was nothing like him right now. And if he had a dick bursting with need against a woman’s body, Jazz didn’t want to know, hear, or think about it, thank you very much. He let out a frustrated sigh. All this talk about his family was wilting his desire in spades.
“I like it that you’re telling me so much about your family. It makes me feel better for some reason.” Vivi sighed again, stretching her body as she relaxed against him. “Is your brother a gentleman like you? Polite and kind to women and children?”
His erection wasn’t acting like a gentleman at all as it happily nudged the soft skin it was touching. Her stretching and moving around wasn’t helping either, but he didn’t want her to stop. She was unconsciously drawing circles with slow, sexy strokes of her finger and definitely moving in the right direction. Lower. Yeah. His dick nodded with eager agreement.
“Zippy’s name came from an accident.”
“What do you mean?” She yawned, stretching again.
Jazz really didn’t want to think about Zippy’s accident. Or talk about it. It wasn’t conducive to keeping a happy penis hard and ready. “Let’s just say that it was a traumatic childhood experience and he never wears zipped pants again.”
“Oh my God. A man’s nightmare! It hurts just to imagine the pain!” Vivi chuckled softly and yawned again. “You know what?”
“What?” He prayed that she wasn’t falling asleep, even though he had wanted her to earlier. If he could just stop her from bringing up his mother and brother while he was contemplating sexier images, everything would be perfect.
“I suddenly remember my mother had a saying similar to yours. You know, the one about good things coming to one who works hard?”
“What’s that?” Okay, better to talk about her mother than his mother. Less sacrilegious. It was just not right to talk about his mother when all he wanted to was put his…
His breath came out in a hiss as a hand encircled his arousal tightly. “She told me, ‘Good things come to one who is hard.’”
It took several seconds before he realized he had been had. It took that long because his hard dick was too busy enjoying something good. The little minx had done all that on purpose. Sisters and mothers. Gentlemanly behavior. His brother’s dick, for God’s sake.
Jazz growled and pushed Vivi onto her back. Her hand remained busy as her laughter filled the night air.
“Come on,” she urged, between chuckles. “You still haven’t explained about Zola. Tell me more about your family.”
He sighed happily as he settled between her parted legs. “Spanking,” he threatened. “We do that a lot.”
CHAPTER
20
“This is very unprofessional, you know,” Vivi commented as she looked around. She sat up as soon as the first streak of dawn broke the sky. Jazz stirred, then he, too, sat up, using a tree trunk as a back rest. Vivi leaned back, enjoying his body heat too much to move away. “If Dilaver and his men had found us last night…”
She gestured at the clothing scattered around. “Really unprofessional,” she repeated.
“I still have my boots on. We could run,” Jazz offered lazily.
Vivi chuckled. “Well, I don’t have my shoes on,” she pointed out.
“I’d have carried you, no problem.”
She had a feeling Jazz could do that and more. After all, the man had determinedly hung on to the back of a trailer for hours, intent on saving her. He kissed the side of her neck, distracting her.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Our next course of action.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“You’re such a liar,” she said, smiling, as she reluctantly got on her feet. Jazz remained where he was, watching her as she retrieved articles of clothing. “Well? Are you going to sit there all day?”
“Just enjoying the view,” he replied. In the morning light, she could see the streaks of dirt and camouflage on his face. He smiled, revealing startling white teeth. “Bend over again.”
She shook her head. “You know that isn’t going to get us out of here quickly.”
“I thought we were on our next course of action.” He stretched his legs out lazily.
“The next course is not going to be me again,” Vivi stressed, ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jazz naked. He was totally at ease with his…She looked up and caught the amusement in his eyes. She frowned with mock anger.
“Tell him that,” he suggested as he touched his erection.
“Lieutenant Zola Zeringue.” Hands on hips, she drew satisfaction at his wince. “Are you paying attention to the fact that we’re still in danger?”
“I’m giving you my fullest attention, chouchou.” The man was totally shameless as he opened his legs wider. “Come here and let me show you.”
“
I suggest someone take a cold morning bath in the river pronto,” she suggested.
Jazz heaved an exaggerated sigh before getting up. Sunlight emerged in the dawn sky. His masculine beauty took Vivi’s breath away, from the broad shoulders to the well-defined abdominal muscles to the powerful flanks of his legs. There wasn’t an extra ounce of fat on the man. And standing in the wilderness, he looked…absolutely gorgeous.
She had to turn away. She had never acted so irresponsibly before and although she didn’t regret it, she mustn’t let her feelings take the place of more important things. They had to get back to HQ so the rest of the mission could continue smoothly.
She heard him moving about. “How long will it take you to get ready, sweetheart?”
“Not as long as you. I had on less clothing,” she pointed out, hooking the bra with her forefinger and pulling it off a small bush.
“Here’s my shirt. Don’t think you can fit my shoes, but I have another pair of socks.”
Frowning, Vivi turned, just in time to see his cute butt disappear back into his camies. The man didn’t wear underwear. Another thing that was going to keep her distracted. “You don’t have any underwear but you have an extra pair of socks,” she said in disbelief. “Extra ammo, small weapons, and socks?”
He turned. “You had ether in some pellet on your necklace!” He picked up the heavy belt and proceeded to check the pouches.
She shrugged. “I’m GEM. And ether is a weapon.”
He looked at her briefly. “I’m a SEAL. Everything is a weapon.” He threw her a tight ball, which she caught. It was encased in Saran Wrap. “Trust me, chouchou, when you’ve been in situations in which you’re wet for a long time, you learn to have certain things available whenever possible.”
Vivi peeled off the wrap. It was a wadded pair of socks. “I’m off to the restroom,” she said, pointing to the river.
“I’ll keep watch, but stick close to the bushes. We don’t know whether Dilaver is still looking for us.”
“He isn’t stupid. He won’t wander too far away when he’s not sure of his territory.”