The Protector

by Marliss Melton

  Eryn’s misty gaze remained fixed on her new husband. She longed to seal their union with a kiss. Ignoring the tubes that snaked into his nose, she dropped a light kiss on his lips, encountering gauze and a hint of facial hair. Carrying their linked hands to her lips, she kissed his knuckles. Slowly, one finger at a time, his fist unfurled. He seemed to be reaching for something. She put his palm to her cheek and his hand grew still, wetted by her tears.

  From the moment his possessive gaze first landed on her, she’d been his. She would remain his for as long as they lived.

  “You have to live for me, Ike,” she told him quietly. “Live for me.”

  A bead of moisture escaped the corner of his eye and ran into his bandage. She knew he’d heard her. She knew he’d fight to pull through.

  Epilogue

  Eryn sat up taller in the driver’s seat. “I can’t believe we’re here,” she breathed, nosing Ike’s Durango between the brick pillars and onto the driveway leading straight up to their mountain getaway. Theirs, that was, if he didn’t annul their marriage.

  In the back of the Durango, delivered from Little Creek Amphibious Base by a teammate, Winston whined, echoing her excitement.

  Need to shift into four-wheel drive,” Ike instructed, a small smile on his lips.

  “Like this?” she asked, doing what she’d watched him do a couple of times last year.

  “That’s it.”

  Not only had Ike cheated death, coming out of ICU the day after their marriage, but four months of cognitive rehab in Bethesda had left him practically as good as new. He still got headaches sometimes; his back was scarred by burns; his limbs flecked with shrapnel scars. He hadn’t been cleared to drive yet, but for a man whose odds had been fifty-fifty, he looked pretty darn good to her.

  They had spent every evening of those four months getting to know each other better. From what Eryn could see, Ike had come a long way from the grim, silent man who’d played her protector last year. He seemed at peace with himself. But he still kept so much inside him that she had no idea if he was content to be married to her, or not.

  The future of his career was equally uncertain. Ike’s hearing loss, which was a result of the explosion, meant that he was being medically discharged from the Teams. But Homeland Security had approached him with an offer to head up a new counterterrorist taskforce. He seemed excited by the job offer, which would have him working out of D.C.

  Still, he’d been so eager to escape to the mountains upon his release from the hospital that she had to wonder if he’d be content living in the city. After all, he had declined to recuperate in her townhouse, even though her father had finally moved out. Maybe he didn’t want to consummate their marriage vows—unspoken vows, on his part.

  The fact remained that nothing held Ike to her but a scrap of paper signed by her father, who’d served as Ike’s agent.

  She gunned the accelerator in private panic.

  “Slow and easy,” Ike soothed.

  The driveway sported several new gullies where melting snows had washed away the gravel. The Durango jiggled through them.

  “Got my work cut out for me,” Ike muttered.

  Cut out for me. Why hadn’t he said for us?

  Gripping the steering wheel harder, Eryn saw him lower the passenger window. A brisk, spring breeze gusted into the car’s interior, smelling of young leaves and warm granite. It brought back memories of her and Ike running past soldiers and hiding from the helicopter.

  That all seemed like a high adventure in retrospect, at least up until Farshad of Helmand had ruined all the fun he’d inadvertently caused.

  Almost home, Eryn thought, speeding them around the final turn.

  There stood the cabin, looking as quaint and bucolic as ever in the shade of the oak tree. The paint was still peeling; the porch now listed to one side. But the cherry tree and forsythia were in full bloom, adding lavish color to an otherwise simplistic setting.

  “It looks just like I remember,” she stated, parking by the rope that dangled from the oak tree, slightly yellower now.

  “Only more run down,” Ike agreed, glancing toward the sinking sun.

  “Not after I—” Eryn cut herself off.

  He slanted her a curious look. “You what?”

  “Nothing.” She had no right, at this point, to introduce her thoughts for renovating.

  “Just leave our stuff in the truck,” Ike said, “I want to show you something.”

  Intrigued, she spared a quick thought for her purse and their luggage while Ike released the dog from the back. Then trapping her hand in his, he drew her around the house toward the jogging trail. Memories of their morning runs assailed her. The scent of wild grass and the whisper of the wind welcomed them as they hiked into the sparsely-leafed forest, chasing the sun, which had started to sink behind the pinnacle of the mountain.

  Eryn struggled to keep up. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” For all his time in the hospital, Ike seemed no less fit than he’d been twelve months ago. He pulled her up the last part of the incline and over to the boulder from which he’d once surveyed the valley.

  “Up there?” Eryn eyed the massive rock, thoroughly puzzled.

  “C’mon. I’ll boost you up.”

  A moment later, she was crawling on hands and knees across the sun-warmed stone. Ike joined her, urging her closer to the ledge that stuck out over a sheer drop. Settling next to her, he put an arm around her waist and drew a deep breath.

  She could sense the stress leaving him. The feeling that they had come full-circle crept over her.

  Below them, the Shenandoah Valley sprawled under an amber sunset. A hawk coursed the heavens, and somewhere down in the hollow, a cow lowed.

  “I like it here,” he admitted, glancing at her sidelong. “You?”

  Suspended over nothing but air, she wasn’t quite as relaxed as he was, but she’d never let him know that. “It’s spectacular,” she agreed.

  He leaned suddenly away and delved a hand into the pocket of the jeans she’d bought him, along with a new wardrobe in repayment for the one he’d purchased at Dollar General the year before. Something glimmered between his fingertips.

  Eryn’s heart skipped a beat. “Ike!” He was holding out a diamond ring.

  “Never got to ask you myself.”

  In stunned silence, she admired the sunset’s reflection in the fiery stone.

  “So. It’s kind of late, but would you marry me?” He sent her a crooked smile.

  Relief whipped through Eryn, turning her weak. Yet she still hadn’t heard a confession of love from him. If he was having second thoughts, she owed him the chance to back out. “Are you sure it’s what you want?” she whispered, even as she eyed the ring longingly.

  His smile vanished. “Why? You having second thoughts?”

  “No,” she said at once. “But I thought maybe you might be. I mean, I practically forced you to marry me.”

  He exhaled with such a look of relief that her fears evaporated. Then he jammed the ring firmly onto her fourth finger. “Listen, I’ve told you this,” he reminded her, hearkening back to their conversations in the hospital. “I only pushed you away because I thought you deserved better than to wait for me.”

  “And I pushed you away so you wouldn’t think of me and get hurt.” She shook her head at their mutual foolishness.

  “Didn’t work,” he pointed out ruefully.

  “I know.” Needing to hear his true feelings for her, Eryn swung a leg over his thighs and sat on his lap so that he was forced to look at her.

  “Easy, girl,” he warned with a gleam in his eyes.

  “Ike, I thought you were going to ask me for an annulment,” she admitted.

  Tipping his head back, he studied her incredulously. “Why the hell would I do that?”

  “Um, well, you’ve never told me that you love me,” she answered.

  He looked stunned. “I haven’t?”

  She shook her head. “
And you haven’t made love to me in almost a year,” she added, on a distinctly sulky note.

  He gave her a slow grin. “Thought about it every day in rehab,” he confessed, “but there wasn’t a lock on the door.”

  “We don’t need a lock out here,” she hinted.

  “My thoughts exactly.” He caught her face in his rough hands. “Eryn,” he said hoarsely, and then he kissed her.

  She felt her heart float away. Maybe words weren’t really necessary.

  But then he spoke against her lips. “I wanted you the second I laid eyes on you,” he admitted thickly.

  “Go on,” she gasped. She would never have guessed that.

  His grip on her face was both fierce and gentle. “I am fucking crazy about you,” he added with intensity.

  Pleasure pulsed through her. Her fears seemed so ridiculous now. “So, you love me,” she prompted, biting her lip against a smile.

  “I totally love you,” he agreed.

  Desire had her clamping her thighs around him. “Let’s go back to the cabin,” she begged.

  “What’s wrong with here?” His hands slid purposefully up under her cashmere sweater.

  Her eyes widened as he unlatched her bra. With a look, he challenged her to protest his actions. She was suddenly highly conscious of the hard ridge testing his zipper. “Up here?” she asked in disbelief. “Now?”

  “What’s the point of owning a mountain if you can’t get naked on it?”

  She had to concede he had a point, but, “Someone might see us up here.”

  “How do you think Naked Creek got its name?” he shot back, studying her through narrowed eyes.

  It took her a second to realize he was teasing. “Oh, what the heck.” Thrilled by her own audacity, Eryn whipped off her sweater and tossed up higher onto the rock.

  In the next instant, she was topless. The cool breeze contrasted exquisitely with the heat of Ike’s skilled mouth. “Oh, Ike, I’ve missed you,” she cried, cradling his head.

  He rolled over, lowering her gently onto a carpet of lichen. “Missed you, more,” he murmured, settling between her legs. And then he peeled off the remainder of her clothing, raining kisses on every inch of skin that he exposed. Lost to pleasant sensations, Eryn watched the sky blush a pretty shade of pink.

  By the time Ike’s own pale backside was facing the heavens, the sun had slipped behind the highest crag on Overlook Mountain, casting a shadow of modesty onto what was known from that day on as Naked Rock.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  When I finished this book, I felt like I’d given birth to a baby elephant. Seriously, the labor was intensive; the gestation period endless. My poor readers have waited forever, for this prequel to my Counterterrorist Taskforce Series. I trust they will not be disappointed.

  My new baby elephant is the result of an awesome team effort shared by a group of amazing individuals, all of whom volunteered their time and talent without a lick of monetary reward. Words fail me in expressing my gratitude, but I wish to acknowledge each of you individually.

  Timeshare salesman Stephen Winegard, you overlooked the need to sell me a timeshare at Massanutten Resort. Instead, you took me on all the back roads around your hometown of Elkton, providing me with the perfect setting for my book. Thank you!

  FBI Retired Supervisory Special Agent Steven Brown, you worked tirelessly with me in making my FBI investigation sound authentic. Best wishes for your health and for the publication of your own books including your fabulous mystery: Redeeming the Dead.

  Rachel Fontana, friend and reader, you suffered through every manifestation of this story as it morphed into a tale worth telling. And you made me jump off a rope swing fifteen feet above the water, an experience I never would have enjoyed if you hadn’t gone first. I hope you know how much I value your friendship.

  Don Klein, a true gem of a human being, you drove all the way from Minnesota to Virginia to meet me; became the first and only dues-paying member of my fan club; and edited every blessed word of my working manuscript, multiple times. Love hath no greater gift than this.

  Janie Hawkins, you brought out the shine in a manuscript that was distinctly dull. Remember when my mantra was “Three and a half years till freedom?” Well, that was almost six years ago. Your own freedom will be here before you know it. Hang in there, Toots. (Good advice. Sound familiar?)

  Jeff Wilson with Naval Special Warfare, you took time from your busy schedule to make sure my action scenes rang true. I can’t wait to read your Navy SEAL book, The Traiteur’s Ring. And how weird is it that we went to the same high school and college and never knew each other?

  Trish Dechant, a promising author with inherent talent I only wish I were born with, you sprinkled in just the right spices to season the final product.

  I cannot overlook four fabulous readers who took the time to find the myriad of typos throughout my story: Marilyn Harper, Amy Johnson, Jennie Carpenter, and Helen Freeto. Your loyalty humbles me!

  And special thanks to my publicist, Shannon Aviles, for sharing your marketing wisdom so generously, while never asking for anything in return. My prayers for you will never cease.

  Last but not least, I must thank all my faithful readers who swore they’d read anything I wrote and waited not-so-patiently for me to finish this new book. I desperately needed your encouragement and reassurance. Thank you, one and all, for your loyalty.

  I am blessed to have all of you as part of my team.

  Other Novels by Marliss Melton

  Forget Me Not

  In the Dark

  Time to Run

  Next to Die

  Don’t Let Go

  Too Far Gone

  Show No Fear

  Visit www.marlissmelton.com for more information

  Marliss Melton is the author of a bestselling, seven-book Navy SEALs series. As the wife of a retired Navy veteran, she relies on her experience as a military spouse and on her many contacts in the Spec Ops and Intelligence communities to pen realistic and heartfelt stories about America's most elite warrior, the U.S. Navy SEAL. Daughter of a U.S. foreign officer, Melton grew up in various countries overseas. She has taught English, Spanish, ESL, and, most recently, Linguistics at the College of William and Mary, her alma mater. She lives near Virginia Beach with her husband, young daughter, and four college-aged children.

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