Surrendering To Her Sergeant

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Surrendering To Her Sergeant Page 5

by Angel Payne


  The woman giggled. “It’s all right. And understandable. Memories aren’t simple to shirk, especially ones like ours.”

  She finished by winding a hand around his forearm. Ethan let his brain report to the office of Officially Uncomfortable. He didn’t miss how Bella’s claim, in verbal and physical form, made Ava’s tension expand up her spine, working into her tight lips and aching eyes. He hated this. Every second. Goddamnit, if he could only order everyone out of here and get Ava back against the wall, back to where nothing or nobody mattered, back to that connection he’d waited seven fucking months to have again.

  “Hmm.” The interjection came from an openly smirking Tait. “Unshirked memories. Shit, Archer. That sounds like a lot of interesting bribery material to me.”

  Kellan added a knowing lift of brows. “It’d come in handy, now that he’s a big bad sarge and all.”

  Bella’s stare, as intense as her grip, got more penetrating. “Sarge? As in ‘sergeant?’”

  “Newly minted, ma’am,” Franzen offered. “Gave him his new stripe after we finished a dick-whopper—err, a difficult mission—down in Mexico. Figured we’d make this little side trip as part of the celebration.”

  Another potent silence passed. Bella maintained her unyielding attention. And her damn C-clamp of a hold. She finally murmured, “You’re one of the Special Forces visitors.”

  He flashed a lopsided smile. “Would appear that way, Miss Lanza.”

  Bella’s eyes turned the color of brown sugar. The warmth flowed into the rest of her surgically perfect features. “Looks like you’re really all grown up, too,” she replied. “You did it, babe.”

  Fuck. There it was again. But could he ream her for using the old endearment when he identified the awkwardness she masked with it? His decision to join up with the big green machine had been the beginning of the end for them. Wasn’t like he was subtle about dealing the blow, either. He’d dropped it into the middle of a halfway pleasant date toward the end of their first year in college, even making Brenda—Bella—laugh at him, thinking for once he was pulling a bad joke. But he’d never been good at joking, and she couldn’t see why he’d throw away the corner office at Dad’s company, already reserved for him, along with the cushy starting salary and his choice of Jag, Beemer, or Mercedes as a signing bonus. Poor Bella had been stunned to the brink of tears, especially because he hadn’t tried very hard to explain himself. What would’ve been the point? She thought of her freedoms as part of life’s path, not treasures that had to be honored and defended.

  Her outrage had been shared by most of the world. His Stanford advisor labeled the decision “reckless and irresponsible.” A more blunt assessment came from his frat drinking buddies; their term was “stupid as shit pie.” Mom hadn’t used any words; she just chose to disappear into her greenhouse for four days. Shockingly, the worst reaction he’d expected had never come. Dad’s support, and best of all his understanding, had made it possible to grab at the Army’s big brass ring. The Special Forces needed good men, and he’d set his sights of becoming one of them.

  He concluded that thought out loud. “Fate smiled,” he murmured. “Yeah, I really did it.”

  Behind him, Tait’s laugh tickled the air. “Doing it’s never been a problem for you, Runway.”

  “’S long as it’s with his palm and fingers,” cracked Kell.

  “Gentlemen,” Franzen growled, “we aren’t on Uncle Sam’s clock right now, but keep it up and I’ll make you hate your sorry life when we are again.”

  “Roger that, Captain.”

  Tait’s respectful reply still shook with humor. Ethan didn’t care. He almost turned and thanked the ninjas for the interjection since it forced Bella to take her hand off his arm to cover her giggling mouth.

  “All right,” she finally declared, “I can tell that a silly little set tour isn’t going to be enough time with all of you. You’re all officially invited to my place for dinner tonight. We have a short shooting schedule today and my chef should be able to do something casual. Do you all like lobster, shrimp, and bruschetta?”

  Zeke chuckled again. “Honey, does a Wookiee like Cortyg brandy?”

  Bella frowned. “Huh?”

  “Star Wars geek,” Rayna explained. She shook her head then stood on tiptoe to kiss Z’s jaw. “Nothing an Indiana Jones marathon won’t fix.”

  “In your dreams.” His countering mutter was thick with affection.

  Franzen saved them all from the couple turning their smoochy moment into a puke-inducing PDA by stepping forward with his hands spread. “Miss Lanza, your invitation is kind but unnecessary. We’re not nitpicky Hollywood eaters. We’re soldiers with the manners of hyenas and the appetites of elephants. And this isn’t even all of us. Corporals Lange and Stafford are still lurking around here somewhere, and—”

  “Captain.” Bella pivoted at him, showing off the same determination she once used to get into closed classes and private frat parties. “I have a five-thousand-square-foot villa that’s tailor-made for entertaining, which I don’t do enough of, especially when the crowd isn’t a bunch of stuffy Hollywood eaters.”

  “Look, the offer’s sweet, but—”

  “It’s on the sand in Malibu.”

  Franzen choked his next words into silence. Hawkins laughed and spoke for him, instead. “What time do you want us there?”

  It hadn’t escaped Ethan’s attention that Ava’s posture had gone stiff again. When Bella turned to Franzen, he focused all his attention on grabbing Ava’s, but the woman kept riveted on Bella like a goddamn lady-in-waiting for Anne Boleyn herself. He was certain she’d filed him back into the ignore-and-he’ll-go-away category.

  Think again, sunshine.

  The queen herself helped him out with that resolve. Bella turned back, twisting more screws of tension down Ava’s spine. If Ethan was a betting man, he’d lay sure odds on what would go down next.

  “Ava darling, I won’t need anything here for the rest of the day besides a few powder touchups, and Faye can handle that. Can you be a love and supervise preparations at the house?”

  Yep. Fucking shame that Vegas was just an hour away by plane. He could’ve just made a mint.

  Ava squared her shoulders and stated, “Bella, I don’t think I’m the right—” She huffed when Bella’s eyes narrowed and conceded, “Fine. Sure.”

  Bella’s smile was a sweep of practiced goo. “You are such a champ.”

  Ethan recognized an opportunity when it hit. He scooted forward, smiling carefully. “Sounds like it’s going to be a lot of logistics and shit. I can go along to help.”

  “No.” Ava’s rebuttal was fierce. “That won’t be necessary, Sergeant.”

  She tried to push past him. Ethan didn’t move. “It’s no trouble.” He grinned down at her. “Really.”

  Bella actually squirmed a little. “Uhhh…”

  “He’s really good at logistics.”

  Ethan made a mental note to thank Z for the well-timed insertion.

  “I’m good at them, too.” Ava seethed it this time. She tried to get past him again. Ethan almost laughed as he slid around for the second block. Get it through your head, woman. I’m not giving up.

  Their cat-and-mouse dance wasn’t lost on Bella. With a flirty toss of her head and another perfect smile, she ventured, “You…don’t want to stay and watch me act, babe?”

  Ethan scooped up her hand. “I’ve already seen you act, babe. Lots of times.” He tapped his head with his other hand. “You just said it perfectly. Some memories aren’t easy to shirk.”

  “Thanks,” she muttered. “I think.”

  Zeke slammed his hands together. “Cool beans. It’s settled, then. We’ll see you at Bella’s house tonight, Runway. Toss me your room key. Ray and I will run past the hotel on our way back to Ava’s and I’ll grab your swim trunks.”

  Bella went even more quiet, which made him sense that his victory was near. “You were always so sweet about helping out on things.” She wrappe
d her hand around his arm again and pressed herself close. The smell of expensive perfume made a full frontal on his senses. “Thank you.”

  “Welcome.” Surprisingly, he got it out without a sneeze or a grimace. The smile that followed wasn’t so hard. In an hour, he’d be miles from that perfume. He’d have Ava alone again. For the whole day. That made all the sneaky tactics worth it. Sometimes a guy had to bend the rules to achieve the mission objective.

  Now, all he had to do was convince Ava that her aim was the same. Judging from the glower on her face when they met at her car ten minutes later, that was going to be easier said than done. The woman was clearly passionate about all her feelings, including total ire about having her day upended and her job description hijacked, not to mention Ethan’s involvement in both. That was okay by him. In his own line of work, patience and tenacity were side-by-side partners. He was ready for this.

  Including, if he had to, a little bit more than “bending” the rules.

  Chapter Four

  Ava forced in a deep breath. Another. Like they did any damn good at diminishing her ire at the man this time.

  Actually, she was shocked she hadn’t lost it sooner with the bastard. She’d sure as hell punched herself enough times for lingering too long at the set, inviting disaster to happen—an offer disaster certainly hadn’t refused. It happily obliged by plunking her here, alone in her boss’s villa with the man who’d pulled the audacity card in a move that still had her jaw heading toward the floor in shock. Yeah, the same man who shared a past of “unshirkable” memories with Bella—and with whom the starlet clearly wanted to create a few new ones tonight. That hadn’t stopped him from charming himself into an invitation for the whole day, had it?

  Ay! The ass! It seemed the Special Forces were giving their soldiers some extra training in balls-out boldness these days.

  That was as far as she dared go in thinking about Ethan’s crotch. As for having a face that could make even the most jaded casting agent stop for a second look? Probably not a Special Ops job necessity, though the man knew how to work that angle when he wanted, as well—to perfection. For the last five hours, she’d been close to hurling more at him than her glower. Every time, he’d stopped her cold by flicking a charming wink of those piercing blues or lifting one side of his mouth in a deliberate grin. Knowing what he was doing to her with the looks. Watching every drop of her blood heat from livid ice to aroused flames because of it. Taunting her with what she couldn’t have and shouldn’t crave—especially now.

  That wasn’t even the worst of it. The hardest moments had been ones like this, where she walked into the room, this time the dining area between the open-plan kitchen and the sprawling living room, and caught him unaware of her stare at all. The rapt look on his face was beautiful as he listened to the lively chatter of the villa’s two housekeepers, as well as the lead maintenance team man. The maids went on in rapid-fire Spanish, though the dialect was thicker than the Spanglish Ava had grown up with so she couldn’t follow completely. Isko, the engineer, seemed to share her impediment, though he understood enough to insert some comments to the exchange. He used another language completely, but Ethan nodded and chuckled in comprehension of the man’s insertions, too.

  Ava curled a hand to her chest, acknowledging the somersault of her heart. When he laughed, he went from beautiful to breathtaking. His eyes sparkled like the ocean outside the open patio doors. His thick hair fell forward, teasing his high temples. Subtle crinkles formed at the corners of his mouth. Her chest made room for the somersault to become a full floor routine.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  “Seven months,” she whispered. “That’s the only thing wrong with you, chica. It’s been seven months and you’re just…not used to this.” Not used to him.

  And if it had been only seven days, would she be? Seven hours?

  Getting “used” to Ethan Archer…to his effect on her skin, her nerves, her libido. Right. And California was going to slide into the ocean next year. And an animated movie would win the Academy Award for Best Picture. And somebody would make a sexy heel that didn’t double as a torture device. Some things belonged permanently on the ridiculous list.

  Suddenly, he looked up. Directly at her.

  Ava retreated, mounting the half-dozen stairs to a landing that overlooked the area, pretending “dust” on the wrought iron rails had become the most fascinating thing in the world. She waited for one of his brows to lift in question, or his knowing smile, or his brash sideways smirk—

  None of which came.

  He simply stood, gave a quick gracias for the staff’s time then put those long legs to work on a path straight toward her. Once at her side, he scooped both her hands into his. His gaze left no inch of her face untouched by its power. As it did, his mien did a slow burn from surface casual to deeply concentrated.

  “What is it?”

  Clearly, the question he’d put on the phrase was a formality. The words were a demand, plain and simple. Ava squirmed, feigning interest in that dirt again, trying to break from his hold…from the piercing force of his eyes. “Besides the fact that you’re gawking like I’m going to vanish into thin air any second?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He readjusted his hold to weave their fingers into each other. The struggle to get free of him was officially stamped with No Dice. “You still didn’t answer the question. What are you thinking?”

  She gave him a long moment of contemplation before rendering a quiet reply. “Honestly? I’m thinking that those three have been working in this house for two years, and in that time, Bella hasn’t talked with them as much as you just did.”

  The revelation didn’t seem to surprise him, though dropping Bella’s name darkened his gaze. Whether that was a good thing or bad thing, she couldn’t determine.

  “Pity,” he said at last. “They’re good people. Paloma’s daughter graduates from high school next week. Valedictorian. Dory wants to get back to El Salvador to see her grandmother before the woman dies.”

  “And they’ve been having problems with a goose in the swimming pool?”

  That set free a new chuckle from him. “Not a goose. Just a duck. Apparently, Bella hates the thing, but it really likes her. She’s ordered Isko to kill it but he doesn’t have the heart.”

  She let a smile rise. “He’s a good guy.”

  “Sure is.”

  “He wasn’t speaking Spanish.”

  “No shit.” He beamed a teasing grin. “It was Tagalog. He’s from Batangas, in the Philippines. Wants to move back too, but he’s come to the States for a woman. Doesn’t know if he wants to put a ring on it, though.”

  Her smile dropped into a surprised gawk. “You got all that out of him?” After he shrugged and nodded, she pressed, “How many languages do you speak?”

  “Fluently? Four. Working on five but fuck, Chinese is hard.”

  Ava gazed at him with renewed fascination. She wondered how many other secrets the man was hiding under all that beautiful hair—and more prominently, if she’d really uncovered a person who charged at their goals more passionately than her. She wasn’t just allured. She was aroused.

  Lethal thinking. She couldn’t do this. Not with him. Especially not after what she’d learned this morning—and what she’d seen. The certainty in Bella’s grip on his arm. The possessive flecks in the woman’s almond-shaped eyes. Pendeja. Lusting after the boss’s new toy was Stupid, capital S. Technically, “new” didn’t even apply. Bella had played with this one before and now wanted another turn with the improved model. This Ethan was bigger, bolder, and more beautiful thanks to the very job that should have Ava stamping a skull and crossbones across his forehead to remind her of a few things. Danger. Poison. Stay away.

  “Hello? Earth to Ava?”

  Of course, it was easier to push toys away when the damn things cooperated. Like not kicking up a lopsided smile that made a girl want to kiss them and punch them in the same moment. “Ethan,”
she blurted, “I still have a lot to get done, okay?”

  Her renewed effort at escape got a tighter squeeze of denial. “And you’ll accomplish it all better if you take a break.”

  “No. I’ll accomplish it all if I do it all.”

  “Shut up.”

  Despite the crack, he got benevolent and let her have one hand back. No, not benevolence. Ulterior motive. He used her free hand to pull her toward a small outside balcony. Ava sighed but didn’t protest. What would be the use? Besides, it was a beautiful early June afternoon. The typical coastal haze had been burned off early. The breeze was sharp, with a hint of summer’s approaching warmth. It was nice and bright out here. Sunny and safe.

  She turned her face up into the golden rays before asking him, “So, did you give Isko any advice? About the woman and the ring?”

  Amazingly, Ethan let her have her second hand back. He leaned an elbow on the rail and gazed past Bella’s Italianate terrace, peacefully taking in the slope of Catalina Island toward the south and the larger silhouette of Anacapa Island toward the north. “I told him to go home.”

  She felt her brows jump. “Just like that? After only knowing him a few hours?”

  He cocked his head back toward her. The sun flashed in his eyes and the wind danced in his hair. Just like that, all traces of his casual mien were gone. “I could’ve told him that after a few minutes.” At the are-you-nuts glare she refused to hide, he asserted, “A man usually knows what he wants, sunshine. If he has to question wanting it, then it’s not worth dicking around about.”

  The words dropped between them like grenades, bursting open with plumes of new meaning and thick resolution. His resolution.

  A gulp thudded its way down Ava’s throat. “Oh.”

  Ethan took her hand again. He guided her fingers up, sliding them beneath his hair until they pressed against his nape. He circled his other arm around her waist, dragging her close until her body was locked inside the frame of his unflinching muscles. His grip was fervent as the sun but merciless as the sea wind, urging her closer until she saw nothing but him.

 

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