Her First Knight - The Beginning: Storm Lake (Under-Cover Knights Book 2)

by Livia Quinn

Chapter Twenty-Four

  Amazement flittered through his mind only long enough for her to straddle his lap and lower her face to his. Her eyes closed and he gave himself up to her desire. She was seducing him again, and whatever her craving, he wanted to be her slave. The kiss started slow. Then her hips swayed as if to some mental music only she could hear. He groaned as the pressure on his groin took him from tarmac to rocket launch in seconds.

  She ended the kiss, and he wanted to scream. But with her breasts level with his face she crossed her arms and pulled the cami over her head, letting the golden glow from the lights on the porch play across her nipples. He wanted them in his hands, in his mouth.

  He massaged one and watched her eyes close, then he took the other between his lips, suckling gently at first but as she thrust her hips against him, taking it deeper tweaking the other nipple with his fingers.

  The mewling plea that escaped her galvanized him and in one move, he rose from the couch. She wrapped her legs around him as his mouth moved to the other breast, then up her neck. Her head fell back and he leaned her against the wall. While he looked for the bedroom, she reached for his shirt. “That way,” she said. “Hurry.”

  “Trying…” he said, but he delayed and took another taste of her sweet mouth. “God, you taste good.” The heat between them built until he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get his clothes off in time. He backed through the bedroom door with her in his arms, with her tongue still sucking on his, the points of her breasts teasing his chest after she’d managed to pull the shirt free from his pants.

  They twirled into the bedroom and crashed on the bed. His clothes flew away, her pants disappeared and he was inside her, blessedly deep, then he was driving into her as fast as he could. She matched each thrust with a rock of her hips, then screamed out his name. After the pulses of pleasure died he let himself burrow into her with a low satisfied sigh.

  His forehead fell onto hers and he waited, eyes closed, until his heart rate slowed and he thought he could speak intelligently. He opened his eyes. Hers were wide and full of emotion. She stared into his just briefly and then closed them with an, “Mm.” In a move reminiscent of the night they’d spent together he scooped her up, pulled the lush teal covers back from her bed and repositioned them both on the fine satin sheets.

  He stroked hair that shimmered like fire back from her peachy complexion, and spread it over the aqua pillow. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are, Buffy Calloway?” he asked.

  Buffy looked at the self-deprecating smile on Ridge’s face. “A time or two, but it never meant as much as it does coming from you.”

  His eyebrows hiked up disbelievingly.

  “Because I was only Lana to you in your early fantasies. Before you met me.”

  “It’s true. I had a major crush, but you’ve stolen me away from Lana.”

  She snuggled next to him. “Don’t worry about getting a hotel.” She grinned up at him, “You’ve stumbled into a room for the night.” And then she was asleep.

  Once again, Ridge lay awake wondering about his motives. What did he want from her? What was he prepared to give? And since he knew the answer to that, how could he fix this?

  The next morning, Buffy made beignets and asked Ridge how things had been going since she’d seen him last. “I read in the paper that you got mixed reviews on your ‘bingo fling’.”

  He actually smiled. “The vote still looks close but the uproar over my little ‘break from reality’ as one congressman put it, has passed. The transfer went through finally with Defense for ISS, and I signed the option for World Bionics. That was the tricky part since it relies heavily on what the market perceives, but it seems I’ve weathered the worst of it.”

  “You still own sixty percent, right?”

  He tilted his head. “Stay up on the news, eh? Yes, and that forty percent was crucial. I’d have gone as low as fifty-one percent if I had to, to get the funds for MiliCare. That’s the core group the rest of the consortium links to. We’re prepared for a long-term investment. All the pieces are in place, no turning back now. Whether congress votes yes or no, we will move forward.”

  “I’ve heard about some of the problems veterans face but didn’t realize the extent of it,” Buffy said, refilling his coffee.

  “The burden on the VA is growing, with so many veterans between the ages of nineteen and twenty-five. With the agency’s recent problems, horror stories abound of vets dying or starving while waiting on diagnosis, care, or treatment. Many of them travel great distances to the nearest VA and face an overwhelming stream of paperwork, in addition to financial hardships on their families. Others end up on the street due to mental disorders or lack of appropriate care. It’s unacceptable.

  “There’s a vast disparity between what the government promises and what it can actually provide in terms of medical services and after care. Our consortium partners will also deal with other issues—housing, education, family support, even file paperwork, and provide transportation.”

  “I’ve been talking to Sally Freeman, you remember her?” Buffy asked.

  “Yes. The author with the WWP fund.”

  “Sally told me women are more than twice as likely to have PTSD. And I didn’t realize that the majority of amputees were in the Army.” Like Ridge’s brother. “It seems overwhelming.”

  “There’s a lot of need.” Ridge got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. He seemed unsettled suddenly. Buffy suspected the discussion brought the circumstances with his brother closer. “My concentration has been on prosthetics in the past, but replacing a limb isn’t the worst thing that can happen. These are the days of true bionics, where the replacement can add flexibility and advantages the human limb couldn’t.”

  He looked out onto the backyard. “Even more important is the diagnosis of mental disorders so soldiers can be treated and find value in life again, and share in the support of their families. It’s the minimum they deserve. These are proud men and women who don’t like to have to ask for handouts or even treatment that’s due them. I want to see that end.”

  Once again the Ridge’s passion on this subject affected Buffy deeply. “So MiliCare works with the government?”

  “We plan to, but like I said, we have a good projection of what the outlay will be in the next five or fifty years. And we won’t stop adding to the consortium, because there will always be a need. The government should be responsible. They want to be. But if the current system is failing our vets, then the private sector has to step in, and not to profit off them. We won’t be receiving funds from the government; there would be too much room for fraud and the losers would be our vets. This will be a working relationship that’s a win for the government and a win for vets.”

  His eyes blazed. “The committee can say what they want about me and my ‘proclivities’,” he grit his teeth, “but they cannot deny that the resources are in place; top professionals from the medical community stand ready to care for these men and women, get them off the streets into long term rehab; make education available and help them achieve what each one of them judges as a ‘productive’ life.

  “Suicide is a growing problem with thirty percent of soldiers saying they’ve considered it and forty saying they know someone who did. We can’t keep failing them.”

  His shoulders relaxed, and his face softened. For some reason Buffy felt like he needed a hug so she got up and walked to him, putting her arms around his waist.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you the spiel…it just kind of comes pouring out.”

  “Please, don’t apologize,” she whispered. “I’m in awe of you.” A tear spilled over and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. She looked up at him, her throat thick with emotion. “What happened to turn a boy scientist with a love of robots into a man on a mission for veterans?”

  He pulled free and sat down across from her. The words didn’t come easily. “My brother John was five ye
ars older than me. We’re—we were—a close family. He wanted to be a soldier for as long as I can remember. Then when I was twelve, he went off to boot camp, my cocky big brother eagerly joining the Army, so gung-ho. But each time I saw him after that he’d changed a little more.

  “I was recruited at a very young age by the Army, given a lab to do research and development on robotics, and carte blanche to experiment in the biggest test tube in the world. The battlefield. I didn’t get to see John as much because we were in different arenas, but he started contacting me frequently when he was in his eighth year of service, adamant that I get out. I didn’t recognize what was going on with him then. It wasn’t acceptable in some circles to have problems with a soldier’s duty—killing.

  “John’s girlfriend from high school, Belinda, had waited for him, and they got married when he was on leave. She wrote me with her concerns for him, and said he needed to come home and get help. I was no longer active by then. My companies were under contract with the Army.”

  Ridge leaned back against his chair and took a deep shuddering breath. “Then, John stepped on a mine.” His eyes lowered and when he opened them, he wasn’t in the room with Buffy, but somewhere else, reliving those years with his brother. She waited. “One of the reasons I started Medtronics was because of John. I wanted to use my knowledge of robotics for something good instead of war. But new prosthetic legs didn’t solve John’s issues. He had severe TMI besides the Post Traumatic Stress.

  “I was at Johns Hopkins talking to some of the board members about ISS, when I got a call from my dad. He said the police called and John was threatening to kill himself, and Belinda and Carrie, their one year old. It wasn’t the first time. He was waiting on a diagnosis and an appointment that had been postponed several times. Belinda was able to talk him down…”

  Ridge sighed, and his voice cracked. “I guess he couldn’t wait any longer. He didn’t believe he could overcome the demons and was afraid he’d eventually harm someone close to him. He walked into the woods near the base, sat down by a tree, and slit his wrists. We didn’t find him until the next day.”

  There was something about a strong man crying and not even realizing it that was devastating. Buffy knew Ridge was oblivious to his tears. His breath tripped. “I… started working on this plan soon after that. And I intend to see it successfully launched.”

  “So Belinda…”

  “Is my sister-in-law,” he said, regaining his composure. “She works in California, on the base. My niece, Carrie, a very precocious five year old made me promise not to cuss… so much. When I’m with her, I have to pay up if I slip.”

  “I saw Belinda’s call on your phone that night in D.C.,” Buffy said.

  “She was trying to warn me about the article in the Washington Post. She saw it on a live feed somewhere and knew it was about to hit.”

  “You’re very close.” She should just come out and ask but she wanted him to talk about his life willingly.

  “I promised them I’d always be there. I want to make sure that John’s death and their early years of marriage didn’t create some lasting trauma for either of them.”

  “I see.”

  Buffy decided it was time to change the subject and told a Cajun fib. “Guess what? It just so happens you arrived on a day when the folks are gathering for a picnic out at my great-grandparents’. You need to meet them. They’re all vets, even my Aunt Vic, who retired after 23 years while her husband raised five of their six children.”

  That peaked his interest, she could tell. “I have to run to the office—my temporary office in my brother’s real estate business—and do an interview with a possible receptionist, then I’ll come back for you. How’s that? You have calls to make and stuff?”

  “I’ll be fine. Do you mind if I use your shower to clean up?” He put his hands around her waist and kissed her. It was a few more minutes and a shared shower later that she arrived at Ted’s office.

  Buffy crossed her fingers and hoped she didn’t have to answer too many questions as she dialed her grandmother’s number first. “Isn’t there a mini-reunion going on out that way today?” she asked when Lillie answered.

  There was a long pause while her grandmother divined the real meaning for her call. “Buffy, dahlin’, what are you up to?”

  “Grandmama, I need a huge favor and I need it by lunchtime, or as soon as possible.” She gave Lillie the Cliffs Notes version of what had happened in D.C.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t been out here to talk to me about this. Your mother will be beside herself.”

  Buffy grimaced, “We can’t let her push. Just because I know, and you know, and half the family once you meet him, doesn’t mean he’ll just fall in line like a good soldier.”

  “You know what your grandfather always says—”

  “It’ll ‘go as it’s meant to go’, yes, yes,” Buffy said. “But do we have to tempt fate?”

  “We’ll see you and your young man at 1:00, dear.”

  It didn’t take long for Buffy to decide that her interviewee wasn’t right for the job. Her first clue was the message on the woman’s t-shirt… I lost my job due to illness. My boss got sick of me. Was this what she had to look forward to as an employer?

  She left to visit the local office supply and when she returned she found Ridge in her office scanning the photos on her board. “Hi. Your brother said to wait in your office.”

  He was dressed in a textured black sport coat and black pants. The shirt and tie he’d picked made his skin look luscious. She wanted to lick him up one side and down the other, right now. Oh God. She wanted this man so bad she was about to sound desperate.

  He saved her though by pointing at an image he found under the others, one of him in the kilt. “You said you weren’t going to use these.” He waited while she formed an answer.

  “I said I wouldn’t sell them without your permission.”

  “So these are for your enjoyment?” he asked, grinning.

  “You’re impossible,” she said. “Would you like to see the property I’m looking at?”

  “Certainly. I take it the interview didn’t go well?” The look he gave her was one of concern and genuine interest.

  She described the woman who had interviewed and he laughed. “You wouldn’t believe what you come across in larger corporations. Count yourself lucky.”

  Lucky, she thought. “That’s scary.”

  Ridge followed Buffy into the former packing plant. “It comes with quite an inventory of furniture and appliances. That will save you money on startup. And it’s quality.” He named a figure for replacement cost she could use when she contacted her insurance company. He suggested some items to negotiate with the owner, like making sure they inspected the warehouse area for structural integrity and adding a clause to guarantee there were no leaks.

  She agreed. Leaks would be devastating to her business, to costumes, photo stock, equipment. “Thanks for the suggestions. My business couldn’t withstand the loss due to water damage.” She appreciated his faith in her, as if the deal was about done.

  “You’d have thought about it once you started looking around and negotiating.”

  Buffy would like to think so, but it was her first time to procure a business property and she might have accepted the deal too quickly out of sheer excitement. “I just hope they take my offer. I’m at a stand still until I find a location. I need to be calling designers, models and suppliers now. We’re waiting to hear if they will do a lease purchase.”

  She grabbed her sweater. “Why don’t you leave the rental and follow me out to Granddad’s?” He agreed, and they made the trip in less than ten minutes.

  When they arrived at the Calloway homestead, Buffy led Ridge out back to a view of the water. The rain had brought in cooler air and a breeze carried the sound of the wetland grasses whispering against each other as waterfowl searched for a meal. “Is that the lake over there?” Ridge asked.

  “Yes, this is actually a mar
sh that’s a good mile from the main lake. Storm Lake is infamous for its bad weather. The waves get high during hurricane season—they’re called seiches. You can even rent surfboards down in Twin Lakes and between Rome and Thunder Point, though that’s for experts. When a tropical system comes through, somebody on Storm Lake is going to get hit, particularly up around Thunder Point, but these wetlands protect us from most of the high water and wind. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  Buffy’s great-grandfather who had to be in his nineties, sat hunched over in his wheelchair squinting at Ridge, taking his measure. He grumbled beneath his breath. His wife paused in her knitting and patted his hand. He looked back at Ridge and nodded a greeting.

  “This is my great-grandfather Earl Calloway and his wife, Roberta. Next to her is my Grandpa Robert.”

  He shook their hands, then Buffy’s grandmother stepped forward and took his in both of hers. “I’m Lillie, Ridge. It’s wonderful to meet you, but please don’t stand on formalities.” Lillie might have been described as country chic, comfortable but current. She wore her hair in a fashionable short chopped style that bordered on glamorous and yet Ridge got the sense she might end up being the most grounded person he’d ever met. She had a tan that couldn’t have come from a tanning bed. With all the fresh cut flowers sitting around, he’d bet there was a garden somewhere that she loved tending.

  She turned and waved a hand at a fit dark haired man with Buffy’s blue eyes. “This is my favorite son—since my other one isn’t here—Theodore, and Buffy’s mother, Pamela.” Pamela was pretty as well with long golden blonde hair, a sophisticated Southern-belle, and probably where Buffy got her fashion sense.

  Ridge nodded at each of them seeing the resemblance in their features, admiring the women, especially Lillie with her creamy peach colored skin and eyes of clear blue. This was how Buffy would look when she was Lillie’s age.

  Lillie angled her body to include someone Buffy hadn’t seen when they walked in. “Luc.” Buffy met Luc halfway for a hug and turned to Ridge. “Ridge, this is Luc Larue my second… or third cousin from the other Calloway side of the family. He’s in the Navy.” She looked him over. He was a handsome guy, and built, but where Ridge’s personality held an air of mystery, Luc’s was outgoing and friendly. He didn’t have a dark mysterious bone in his body.