Call Sign: Thunder

by Livia Grant

  New Zach won.

  He lifted her into his arms, easily carrying her into the bathroom to stand her next to the sink. She seemed in a daze, as if her mind hadn't caught up with what was happening yet. He nudged her along. "You brush your teeth while I draw you a bath."

  Her eyes widened, but she didn't protest.

  The hotel was top notch. There was a wicker basket full of scented oils and bath products next to the raised tub. Zach lowered the stopper and started the water, pouring in lavender oils, hoping they would help Allison relax enough to get a good night's sleep. He'd noticed that the majority of the letters she'd written to him over their months apart had been written in the middle of the night. A time she felt most alone and vulnerable.

  He was determined that tonight she was going to get a good night's sleep.

  She got to the tub just as he was turning the steaming water off. There was an awkward moment as they both stood watching the water swirl in the tub's powerful jets. He knew she was expecting him to seduce her. She was going to be disappointed.

  "I'll leave you now and give you some privacy. I checked. There is a thick robe on the back of the door you can put on when you're done. I'll be outside."

  Her bright eyes showed her confusion. "You mean…" Her voice trailed off.

  Zach pulled her into a hug. The lavender permeated the air and he caught a glimpse of them in the mammoth mirror. He looked like a giant next to her, swallowing her up in his muscular arms. Her head tucked neatly under his chin, a full head shorter than him.

  God, she felt good. They fit together like locking puzzle pieces. He pushed the thought aside. He needed to go slow, or risk fucking everything up.

  He released her and took a step back. "We have a lot to talk about, Allison, but before we can do that, you need to get some rest and flush all of the alcohol out of your system. Don't worry. We have plenty of time."

  He said the words, but he wasn't sure they were true. Not only was he expected back at the base on Monday morning, but he had no idea how long her father would stay away. Still, he continued, "I'll be right out there in the bedroom. Are you hungry? I'll order us up some food."

  She turned a slight shade of green at the mention of food, which told Zach she needed to get something in her stomach. "I'm not hungry."

  "Well, I'm starving, so I'll get something for you in case you change your mind. Have a nice bath." He leaned in to kiss the top of her head softly before leaving, pulling the door closed behind him.

  What the fuck was he doing? He was acting exactly like her fucking father, but damned if he couldn't turn off the protective urges he had when around her. It was more than protectiveness. It was possessiveness. Like she belonged with him. He'd never felt the emotion before and it freaked him out.

  Well, you've never killed men to protect a woman before, either. Of course you feel possessive.

  Zach ordered up a variety of foods for them to munch on, unsure what she'd be able to eat. He changed into a pair of sweats and a fresh T-shirt. When the food arrived thirty minutes later and Allison had yet to appear, he went to the door of the bathroom to knock.

  "Food is here, Allie. You about done?"

  No response.

  He knocked lightly, but she didn't call to him. He started to worry. Was she okay in there?

  He pounded louder. "Allison!"

  Fuck. She'd been frail. And half drunk. He shouldn't have left her alone. He pressed open the door, rushing in and stopping, frozen, a few feet into the room.

  She was asleep in the tub, her head propped back on the soft bath pillow the hotel supplied. She'd lit several of the candles on the back ledge of the whirlpool and the flames danced, casting shadows across her naked body.

  He felt like a Peeping Tom, inching closer, stopping when he got to the edge of the steps, close enough now to see her entire body stretched out in the swirling water. Her arms were resting on the edges of the tub, spread open as if to invite him to admire her.

  And admire her he did.

  He'd thought of her every single day since the rescue, and he hated to admit how many times those memories had included recalling watching her body in the throes of passion induced by the experimental drugs she'd been given. Seeing her body now, peaceful and relaxed, helped push down the harsh memories. It also made him want to strip and crawl in behind her so he could pull her back against his chest while his hands roamed, palming her ample breasts. Despite her weight loss, her globes were still heavy enough that he knew they would fill his palms perfectly.

  Fuck. His erection tented his thin sweats, jutting straight out as if it was pointing in the direction it wanted to go. Considering it hadn't been out to play with anything other than his left hand since the rescue mission, he couldn't blame his appendage. Still, he needed to stay true to his current mission, and that was being Allison's friend. The person she could confide in. The person who would help drive the demons out of her nightmares. His dick had no role to play in that mission.

  Zach kneeled on the steps next to the tub and reached for a washcloth and bar of scented soap. After he'd lathered it, he lifted Allie's leg from the water and set to washing her. She stirred slightly as he moved to her right leg, but didn't awaken until he moved higher to soap her tummy. Only when his cloth swept across her breasts did she moan, her nipples expanding to hard nubs as the water sluiced across her creamy skin.

  Her drowsy lids opened. Their eyes met as he moved the cloth higher, slowly stroking her body, intimately connected.

  Her voice was husky with sleep. "I'm sorry. I must have dozed off. The water felt amazing."

  He smiled. "It's okay. I was worried when you didn't come out. The food is here, so I thought I'd give you a hand. Let's get you sitting up so I can get your hair."

  She looked surprised. "You're going to wash my hair?"

  "This is a full-service bathing service, Miss Benson. Of course I'm going to wash your hair."

  A shy smile played at her lips as she let him pull her up from her reclined position. Self-conscious now that she was awake, Allison crossed her arms to cover her chest as Zach reached for a glass from the bathroom shelf, using it to pour warm water over her head. She moaned, her eyes closed, as he lathered her long locks and spent several minutes gently massaging her scalp and letting his hands roam lower to massage her neck, shoulders and back. She was practically purring by the time he'd rinsed her and pulled the plug on the tub.

  She was exhausted. He'd washed away all traces of her make-up, exposing dark circles under her large blue eyes.

  Zach reached for the top bath sheet in the nearby stack before helping her to her feet. He wrapped her, happy the towel swallowed her up as it helped hold off the chills. Goose bumps sprung up all over her smooth skin as he rushed to dry her. Her teeth chattered until he wrapped her in his arms, hugging her tight enough to transfer his body heat to her.

  Once she'd stopped shivering, he led her to the door and pulled the one-size-fits-all robe from the hook. "I think we could fit three of you in this damn thing, it's so big."

  He had to wrestle her into the robe because she was fading fast. He could see she barely held her eyes open so he carried her to the head of the table, gently setting her into the too-large chair.

  "No… I'm not hungry." She tried to push away from the table, but she didn't have enough energy to escape.

  "Just a few bites," he encouraged. When she didn't look like she was going to eat, he added a pitiful, "For me."

  Zach picked up the soupspoon and quickly shoveled a spoonful of potato soup to her mouth. She hesitated, but finally opened wide. He followed with three more spoonfuls as fast as she'd eat them, and then unwrapped a small pack of Saltines.

  The cracker met closed lips until he added a firm, "Open up, Allie."

  He considered it a successful mission when he'd got her to down half the soup, three more crackers, and a full glass of ice water.

  When she looked like she was going to puke again, he cautioned her. "Enough with
the turning to alcohol, Allie. I know you've been in pain, but we're gonna work through this shit. Together." When she looked skeptical, he prodded. "Can you do that? Stop the destructive behavior at least long enough to spend the weekend with me talking through everything?"

  She didn't look happy with his request, but she didn't protest either. He decided to push his luck. "Say it, Allie. Tell me you won't turn to alcohol the next time you get upset or feel out of control. You'll call me instead."

  She was wavering. He could see she didn't want to agree to his request, but to her credit, she did. "Okay, I promise. No more alcohol. But you're gonna stay here, right?"

  "I'm gonna stay."

  That satisfied her.

  Zach caught her as she was about to topple out of her chair, literally falling asleep where she sat. It was clear she was exhausted, having struggled with debilitating insomnia since the kidnapping. He carried her to the bed, pulling back the cool sheets and laying her in the middle of the bed fit for a king.

  Allison curled up into a ball on her side like a kitten, not waking as he pulled the covers up around her to tuck her in. He left only long enough to grab his plate of quesadillas and beer and bring them to the bedside table and comfortable chairs. Zach parked himself there, enjoying watching Allison sleeping soundly and giving him the first real time to think things through since her father had shown up at Fort Lejeune.

  What exactly did he think was going to come out of this time with Allison? She was damaged emotionally. Hell, she needed a psychologist, or a therapist, or even a fucking tarot reader. Someone. Anyone had to be better qualified to help this adorable young woman through her emotional crisis than Zachary Garrett, Mr. One-Night-Stand.

  He lost track of time watching over her… admiring her… and yes, wanting her. God help him, but he wanted her.

  The whimpers were his first clue her nightmares had started. Before he could take action, she was thrashing her arms, fighting off an imaginary bad guy. He didn't take the time to weigh his options. He reacted, stripping down to his boxer briefs, pulling back the covers, and sliding into the bed behind her.

  She stilled the second his arms wrapped around her, cocooning her in his protection. He spoke softly against the shell of her ear. "Shhh… I've got you, honey. No one's gonna hurt you again. Sleep tight."

  A final sigh and then he felt the tension leaving her body, relaxing against him. Her head lay on his right bicep as he hugged her tighter, spooning her until they felt like one.

  Cuddling was not a frequent pastime of the Casanova, yet tonight he appreciated every minute he got to comfort Allison. He knew it would end all too soon. He fought sleep, not wanting to miss a minute of their time together, yet finally succumbing to his own exhaustion not long after he saw three on the clock.

  Allison wasn't sure if she needed caffeine, painkillers, or a stiff drink more as she rolled out of the king-sized bed to shuffle off to the bathroom. Five minutes later, she returned to the bed, only then realizing it was empty.

  Panic struck.

  I knew he'd leave.

  She pulled the thick robe closer, wrapping the long belt around her body twice to keep it from dragging on the floor. A quick inspection of the other rooms in the suite confirmed her fear. Zach had left her. No note. No good-bye. He'd just slipped away.

  The weight of disappointment crushed her fragile recovery. How foolish she'd been to let hope take seed the night before. He'd cared for her with such tenderness. He'd lulled her into believing he might actually care. The truth was he had come because her father had demanded it. People didn't tell Walter Benson no. She knew that better than anyone.

  She was about to collapse onto the oversized couch in the suite's parlor when she spied the small kitchenette. Microwave. Sink. Refrigerator.

  Where there was a fridge, there would be beverages.

  Allie struggled to her feet to shuffle to open the small door. Jackpot. The only thing better than a coffee breakfast was a mimosa breakfast. Champagne and orange juice were among the fully stocked choices.

  The pop of the cork on the expensive bottle of bubbly contrasted with the soft fizz as she poured her first flute full to the brim. She'd add OJ to the next glass. She downed the first glass as if she were forcing down medicine. In her mind, alcohol had begun to take on that quality. It dulled bad memories almost as well as the meds her doctor had prescribed. She found they worked best when combined together.

  The second flute was at her lips when she heard the slam of the heavy door. She didn't even have time to contemplate hiding the champagne before Zach strolled into the small space, his arms full of bags, and balancing a cardboard beverage carrier filled with two hot and two cold beverage cups.

  She wasn't sure who was more surprised to see the other. Zach's surprise quickly turned to anger. He slammed his load down on the counter a little too hard and had to catch one tall coffee before it toppled over.

  "What the fuck are you doing, Allison?"

  "Em… I was thirsty."

  "I was gone less than thirty minutes, and you're hitting the booze? Christ, it's nine o'clock in the fucking morning."

  "Hey, mimosas are a common breakfast beverage."

  "Yeah, well, not in my book. And I hate to break this to you, but you accidentally left the orange juice out."

  She watched as he snatched the bottle, crossed to the sink, and started pouring.

  "No! That's really expensive stuff!"

  He ignored her, easily brushing aside her attempts at stopping him from throwing it away.

  "No more alcohol. Not one damn drop. You promised me last night, remember that?"

  He was nuts. "Oh, for crying out loud. You're worse than my father!" She pounded her fists against his back in her frustration.

  The bottle was empty and he slammed it onto the counter before turning in a flash and yanking her against his chest. She felt his right hand jut into her messy long hair, using it to wrench her head back, forcing her to look into his angry green eyes. His left arm held her waist against his fit body so hard she was bent backwards, only his vice-like grip keeping her from toppling to the floor.

  Long seconds passed as she watched an array of expressions cross Zach's handsome face. His breathing was heavy as if he'd run a 5k. The stubble on his chin couldn't hide the twitch of his jaw as he tensed.

  "You're damn right I'm worse than your father. He's lost—unsure how to help you. I don't have that problem. I don't think you're going to like my tactics for getting through to you."

  His words were cryptic, but the heat in his eyes mesmerized Allie. She suspected she should be afraid, but she didn't have time.

  Zach crushed his mouth to hers in a rush, claiming her violently, thrusting his tongue deep, sweeping across her own tongue in a tangle of instant passion. Allison's heart pounded hard as he literally swept her off her feet, his arm still wrapped around her as he carried her to the suite's couch.

  Their tongues danced together as Allison wrapped her legs around his waist. Her robe fell open enough that when he plopped down at the end of the couch, her naked sex pressed against the jutting erection confined in his jeans. The proof of his sexual desire fueled her passion and they lost themselves in each other for several long moments.

  The kiss ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving Allison out of breath and vulnerable.

  Zach lectured her as she struggled to catch her breath. "Damn you for making me turn into your father."

  He had sparked a fire within her and she wanted him to fan that fire, not douse it. "Hate to burst your bubble, but my father doesn't kiss me like that."

  The small smile that tugged at his lips relaxed her a bit. "Yeah, well, thank God for that. But I do have one thing in common with your father."

  Allison seriously doubted that.

  The smile was gone and the grip in her hair tightened. He pulled her closer again so she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. "We both care about you very much, Allison. And we are both damn worried
about you. The difference is, I think I have a pretty good idea what it is you need to get you back on track."

  His words surrounded her, cocooning her. He cared. God, how she wished that were true.

  Her reply was breathy, "And what is your idea?"

  "He's been too soft, trying to lock you up trying to protect you from the outside world, but he is forgetting the biggest threat to you right now is your own self. Your self-destructive behavior is gonna end today, Allison. You are important to me, and I'll be damned if I killed men to protect you only so you could hurt yourself."

  He spoke with such certainty, she almost believed him. God, how she wanted to believe him.

  "You're only here for a weekend, Zach. And anyway, who died and left you in charge of me? You and my dad are in cahoots, trying to control me. I'm an adult. I can do whatever I want."

  "You are an adult, and we'll start treating you like one when you start acting like one. The destructive drinking, drugs, wallowing. It ends."

  His words forced her defensive wall to slam up. "How dare you boss me around? You have no idea what I'm going through!"

  "Don't I? I was there, Allison. I know exactly what you've been through, so don't you dare try to tell me I don't understand."

  His vehemence took her breath away. She struggled to keep it together. "I didn't ask for your help any more than I asked for my dad's."

  "Maybe not verbally, but your acting out is practically daring me to turn you over my knee and paddle your naughty behind like the brat you've been acting like."

  Allie snorted. "You're fucking nuts. You wouldn't dare touch me."

  His grin had her heart pounding. "Don't dare me, honey. I killed men for you. Trust me when I say that delivering a sound spanking to the bare ass I feel wiggling in my lap will be a breeze."