Flirting With Fire--3 Book Box Set

by Lori Foster

  Was that sarcasm in her tone, or did she maybe understand just how much red tape he’d gone through to be with her? As second in command of a squadron, he had plenty of responsibilities on his plate. But Liv always came first in his heart.

  Whenever possible, he wanted to be with her. “You know the routine. It’s typical to send a commander, a doc and a chaplain. I filled in as commander.”

  Her gaze still on him, she said, “The doctor and chaplain aren’t needed.”

  “You never know.”

  She ignored that to say, “But you were closer to Dad than I was, so it makes sense for you to want the duty.”

  Anger surfaced, and Hamilton corrected her with a growl. “I came for you, Liv, not Weston.” When she remained quiet, he took his eyes off the road to glare at her. “Damn it, do you honestly think I’d let anyone else tell you? Do you think I’d do that to you?”

  Her bottom lip trembled, making him regret his temper. Then she shook her head. “No.” Her eyes were huge, accepting but sad, her voice no more than a whisper. “You wouldn’t do that.”

  His damn heart constricted. “Liv, baby, I’d stay longer if I could, but you know that’s not possible.”

  He waited for her to ask him about his duties, about the current assignments that would keep him away. She didn’t. He knew she resisted asking because she didn’t want to worry.

  And she didn’t want to further their involvement into intimacy.

  “Liv...” Her name emerged as a word of warning, a signal of his frustration.

  “I understand, Colonel.”

  “You don’t.” He squeezed her fingers again before releasing her. “But before I leave here, you will.”

  “Is that reassurance, or a threat?”

  “Just plain fact.”

  They made the rest of the short, silent drive along narrow, tree-lined country roads, over a two-lane bridge that spanned a swollen creek, past a family-owned grocery store and a textile plant, until finally Liv directed him down the road to her home.

  The houses were small, most of them well-kept but older and situated near to the street. Enormous elms and maples spread leafy branches to form a canopy from sidewalk to sidewalk. Birds darted around and squirrels scurried across phone wires. Ham noticed at least three antique shops, and the post office flew a flag from a towering pole. Farms butted up alongside businesses.

  Life, laughter and enthusiasm burst from the area.

  And Hamilton felt regret, because this was what Liv had always wanted, and he intended to take her away from it.

  “That’s my house right there.”

  Hamilton slowed the car to turn into the narrow gravel driveway as she indicated. The drive wrapped around to the left of the home, leading to an aged one-car detached garage, but Hamilton stopped, still facing the front porch.

  Damn.

  Surprise left him all but speechless.

  “It’s...” Exactly the type of home he would have chosen for them to live in.

  The small, two-story structure could use a little work, but otherwise it looked well loved. Homey, like Liv.

  A knot of uncertainty settled in Hamilton’s gut.

  Knowing all of Liv’s hopes and dreams, he’d counted on the lure of a house to help sway her to his plans. But even an idiot could see that Liv had set down roots, and knowing how important that was to her, getting her to move wouldn’t be easy. He turned off the car and sat there, staring at the steep roof and its display of loose, damaged shingles, the wraparound porch in need of fresh paint and the tall trees begging for a good trimming.

  As a full-time teacher, there were things Liv didn’t have time for, things she couldn’t afford and things she couldn’t do on her own. He’d help her during his visit, and enjoy doing so.

  But there were other things, like the sparkling clean multipaned windows. And wind chimes hanging from the porch. And a fat, floral wreath on the door. He hadn’t expected...what? That she could truly be content without him?

  He’d come here with the staunch belief that he’d finally have her for his own. When he set his mind to something, he never failed.

  Now, failure loomed, and damn it, he didn’t like failing.

  Liv turned toward him. “Daddy never saw it. I sent him a letter, telling him I’d moved. But I never heard back. I think he was on assignment somewhere.” Her shoulders lifted and fell, and she took a deep breath. “Now he’ll never get to see it—and I’m not even sure he would have wanted to.”

  Swallowing damn near hurt because it felt like he had to swallow some of his own arrogance, his own confidence. “It’s nice, Liv. Real nice.”

  “Then what’s the problem? You look annoyed.”

  Hamilton shook his head. “You’d accuse me of being an ass if I told you.”

  Her smile quirked on one side. It was a smile he recognized, and one he’d missed. “Odds are I’ll accuse you of that even if you don’t fess up.”

  “True.” He smiled, too, but when he touched the side of her face, feeling her warmth, her vitality, his smile faded away. “I’ve looked at a few houses lately, too. It’s uncanny how much your home resembles the ones I liked best.”

  Her beautiful blue eyes widened. “You...you looked at houses?”

  “Yeah.” He curled his hand around her neck, under the silky fall of her hair. “God knows I want you happy, Liv, but I guess I just hadn’t expected to see you so settled in.”

  Her breath shivered, her eyes closed. And abruptly she turned away, jerking the door open and lurching out of the car. Emotional to the core, she slammed her door and hurried up the walkway to her front door.

  Hamilton dropped his head back against the seat with a groan. But he didn’t linger in disappointment long. If he did, she might lock him out. He caught her on the first step of her porch. Restraining her with a gentle hold on her arm, he chided, “Stop running from me, Liv.”

  She whipped around to face him, her eyes no longer sad but filled with fury. “Then stop making me sorry. Stop making me want things I can’t have.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Anticipation tightened his muscles. Holding her gaze with his, he ordered, “Tell me what you want.”

  She punched him in the shoulder—the equivalent of a fly landing. But what she lacked in physical force she made up for with antagonism. “You know damn good and well what I’m talking about.”

  He caught her upper arms, overcome with a turbulent combination of fury, hope...desperate need. “Tell me anyway.”

  Going on tiptoe, she said, “Yes, sir, Colonel Wulf.”

  Her sarcasm pricked his frayed mood and his spine stiffened. “Liv...”

  “First and foremost, I want a life free from worry.”

  Leave it to Liv to want the impossible.

  Shaking his head, Hamilton said, “Ain’t gonna happen, Liv, no matter how you dodge me. Everyone has worries, about money, about family, about job security. It comes with being alive, with being cognizant of our surroundings and our own mortality.” Ham caressed her shoulder. “I know how hard it is. Wives worry about their husbands—and husbands worry about their wives. But the military does the best it can to ensure everyone can at least feel safe from the violence that plagues a lot of other countries.”

  He didn’t mean to preach, but for as long as he could remember, he felt unwavering pride in his country and the armed forces that kept it strong and kept it free. In his younger days, he’d thought about joining the army or the marines. Then, when he was fourteen, he joined the Civil Air Patrol and got his first chance to fly an airplane.

  Instantly hooked, he changed his focus to the air force.

  When he met Weston, he also met Liv. In time, his love of the air force grew, as did his love for Liv. Now at thirty-seven, nothing had changed. He still wanted them both. He’d
never stop wanting them.

  With bitterness reeking in her tone, Liv said, “I know all about the military, but my perspective is just a little different from yours. I know about wishing my dad could be home on my birthday, or when I was sick, or when I just missed him and didn’t want to be alone.”

  “He should have been there.” But a variety of missions had kept Weston away. Since he often couldn’t be there in person, he should have at least been there in spirit. A card, a gift...

  He’d never made Liv a priority. He’d never attempted to make his time away easier on her. He’d never let his daughter know that he cared, that he thought of her and worried and wanted what was best for her.

  Liv made a rude sound of disagreement. “Air Force Intelligence had more important duties for Dad than placating a whiny little girl.” Duties that put him at an awful risk. “Some of the places he went to were terrifying, and he stayed there for so long that there were times when I went to bed at night that I wouldn’t know if he was dead or alive.”

  “That was Weston’s choice, honey, not a code of military conduct.”

  An angry laugh preceded angrier words. “When I asked him about it, when I told him I missed him, he accused me of being selfish.” Big tears swam in her eyes and she furiously blinked them away. “He made me feel so...so...” When her voice broke, so did Ham’s heart. “I felt guilty for wanting him to spend time with me.”

  “Shh.” Ham desperately wanted to ease her pain. But all he could do was reassure her, as many times as it took. “I’m not him, Liv. I’m not Weston, not OSI, and I would never let you worry if I could help it.”

  Incredulous, her mouth fell open, then snapped shut. “You wouldn’t let me worry? That’s rich.” She swiped at her cheeks, dashing away the tears. “Do you have any idea what it did to me when you went into Kosovo? Or what about Afghanistan? And oh, God, I can’t even think about Iraq without shaking and feeling ill and...” Her loss of control only added to her fury. Hamilton knew how much she hated to be seen crying.

  “Liv.” He tried to tug her into his arms.

  She shoved away. Giving him her back, she spoke quieter, softer. “I can’t keep going through that, Ham.” And with iron resolve, she added, “I won’t keep going through that.”

  Hamilton struggled with himself, but he wouldn’t give everything away, not yet. Timing was everything. “Regardless of how we’re involved, it sounds to me like you go through it anyway.” He settled his hands on her shoulders and pulled her resisting body back into his chest. “We have a lot of talking to do, Liv.”

  “Right. Talking about what I want?”

  “Yes.” They could be together, not here, not where she most wanted to be. But if she truly loved him—

  When she pulled away, he let her go, but went with her up the porch steps.

  “Here it is in a nutshell, Colonel. I want a home and stability, friends I can keep forever and a community that knows me.”

  Ham started to describe the possibilities, but she held up a hand. “I have that now, right here. And I’m not about to give it up.”

  Did she even care about what he wanted? Hamilton stood right behind her, crowding close while she unlocked the front door and stepped into the small foyer. Did she realize that the air force was in his blood?

  He felt challenged enough to point out the obvious. “What about a husband and kids, Liv? I remember you used to want them, too.”

  “I still do,” she remarked, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder, “and eventually I’ll have both.”

  Jealousy raged through him, setting his blood on fire. Only if you marry me, he silently vowed.

  Before he returned to base, Liv Amery would accept that he’d always put her first. She’d admit to her feelings, she’d trust him, and then they’d find a happy compromise in the military—one that would leave them both content, with exactly what each of them wanted. On this mission, he wouldn’t fail.

  But for now, it’d do him well to back off a little, to show her, rather than tell her, how much she could enjoy life with him.

  His plan to give her some space lasted about three seconds, right up until Liv said, “Jack must be sleeping. But you’ll get to meet him in just a second.”

  * * *

  LIV BECAME AWARE of Hamilton standing frozen behind her, and she turned to face him. Having him in her home left her filled with unmeasured emotions. He liked her house. He’d looked at some just like it.

  She couldn’t, wouldn’t, buy into that. What did a lieutenant colonel care about setting down roots? Her father had never cut grass, never voted on school levies or concerned himself with holiday decorations. And Hamilton, for all his assurance otherwise, was as military-minded as her father. “What’s wrong, Ham?”

  Stony-faced, his brown eyes fierce and hot, he stared at her. In a low, harsh whisper, he demanded, “Who the hell is Jack?”

  The question reeked of possessiveness, and Liv couldn’t help feeling just a touch of satisfaction. At least she knew she wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with their current nonrelationship. “Jack is the new love of my life. But he must be sleeping. I swear, he sleeps like the dead.” Smiling, she called out, “Jack?”

  Two seconds later the rush of nails on hardwood floors thundered through the hallway. Jack, her nine-month-old shepherd-rottweiler mix, bounded around the corner in unrestrained joy. He jumped up and his sixty-pound body landed against hers with enough force to take her to the ground, except that she’d learned to prepare for Jack’s welcomes, and always braced herself.

  More than ever before, she appreciated the unrestrained welcome. Liv put her arms around him, buried her face in his scruff and just held on. She felt emotionally ravaged and vulnerable when accepting comfort from Ham, but Jack loved her unconditionally. And she loved him the same.

  After accepting a few licks of greeting, Liv eased the dog down. He ran in circles, howling, barking, his tail swatting hard. Touched and oddly proud—just as a parent might be—Liv turned to Hamilton to make the introductions. “Ham, meet Jack. Jack, this is Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton Wulf.”

  With a priceless look on his face, Hamilton knelt down and held out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Jack.”

  Jack, not in the least discriminating, ignored the extended hand and jumped up against Hamilton’s shoulders, almost unseating him. To Liv’s surprise, Hamilton laughed and rubbed the dog, patting his sides, stroking his back and just plain enjoying himself.

  “Good boy.” Then he asked Liv, “How long have you had him?”

  Bemused, Liv cleared her throat. “I got him the day I moved in.”

  “Yeah?” Hamilton looked up at her, handsome, happy, the epitome of a strong man with a big heart. “I remember you always wanted a dog.”

  True. And her dad had always refused.

  Ham gave in to Jack’s enthusiasm and sat cross-legged on the floor. The dog crawled right into his lap, still wiggling and turning and exuding elation with every pant and bark.

  “You’re just a big baby, aren’t you?” Hamilton smiled at Liv while rubbing the dog’s fur. “You’ve had the house—what? About six months now? I know you didn’t have it when I visited last time.”

  “That was eight months ago.” A short lifetime filled with many sleepless, lonely nights. He’d sent letters since then, and photos and cards. But correspondence wasn’t the same as a warm body to hold, and never would be. “I’ve been moved in for six months now.”

  “And Jack is still this excited to see you whenever you get home?”

  For some reason, that made her heart ache, probably because for as long as she could remember, Jack was the only one to give her such a welcome. “He loves me. I love him. Of course he’s happy to see me.” Then reality kicked in and she added, “Oops. He always has to go out right away, so I wouldn’t keep encouraging his
enthusiasm.”

  At a less distressful time, Ham’s expression of alarm would have made her laugh. He quickly stood, distancing himself from the dog and any possible accidents.

  Liv went into her living room, crossed through the dining room, and opened the sliding door to the backyard. She was a tidy housekeeper, thank goodness, so her home was in order, presentable to guests. Not that Ham could be considered a mere guest.... “Come, Jack. Let’s go out.”

  The dog raced—which seemed to be the only speed he knew—through the rooms and out the door into the small fenced yard. As usual, he took his time sniffing every bush and several patches of grass before finding a spot that suited him.

  Amused by the familiar routine, Liv settled against the doorframe and gazed outside. A brisk spring wind buffeted her face, and she noticed that the sun had slipped behind dark clouds, and a distinct chill now filled the air. A storm was creeping in, and that meant her roof would leak. She hated for Hamilton to see the flaws in her house, but there’d be no avoiding it if he stayed with her—and he did seem intent on staying.

  Besides, if she busied herself with preparations for the rain, she wouldn’t be able to linger on regrets, and she wouldn’t find time to indulge foolish hopes.

  Hamilton stepped up behind her, too close for comfort, but then, being around him was never comfortable. Exciting, yes. Turbulent and heated and exhilarating, but far from easy. He drew too many strong emotions from her, most of all love.

  “He’s a beautiful dog, Liv.” While speaking, he took her sweater from her, then stripped off his leather aviator jacket. He laid both over a kitchen chair.

  “Thank you.” Liv glanced back at him. Before they’d left the hotel, he’d changed into jeans and a white T-shirt that hugged his muscular frame. The cotton shirt appeared soft, urging her to rest her cheek against his chest, to wrap her arms around his waist. He looked almost too good to resist. His biceps bulged and his forearms were twice as thick as hers.

  And his hands...

  Liv remembered those hands touching her in so many different ways, holding her, hugging her, smoothing her hair and on occasion, exciting her. Hamilton had strong but gentle hands that could guide a B-2 stealth bomber with precision, or make a woman hot with pleasure.