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Acknowledgments
First of all, I’d like to thank all my readers. Without you, my books wouldn’t need to exist. Y’all freakin’ ROCK!
Thanks to all of my beta readers, street team, ARC readers and Facebook fans. You girls are the best!
And a huge very special thanks to my PA’s, Silla and Shannon. Without you two, I’d be a hot mess! Thank you!
And a very special thanks to my amazing editor, Tina Rucci. Thank you for making my words make sense.
About the Author
KB Winters has an addiction to caffeine, tattoos and hard-bodied alpha males. The men in her books are very sexy, protective and sometimes bossy, her ladies are…well…bossier!
Living in sunny Southern California, the embarrassingly hopeless romantic writes every chance she gets!
You can connect with KB on Facebook and Twitter
Or stop by her website at KBWinters.com!
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Temptation - WARRIORS (Military) by Lisa Carlisle
Acknowledgments
In addition to my wonderful husband, family, and friends, I’ve met numerous people during my publishing career who have been incredibly supportive. This includes critique partners, editors, beta readers, and my fantastic Street Team. You don’t know how much I appreciate you. Thank you, all!
Chapter 1
More sand.
Antonio ran his toes through the warm sand of the dunes of Cape Cod. Different from Afghanistan. Covered in a sheen of sweat under the desert sun, the blowing sand grasping onto his skin, the constant abrasion had become a way of life. Here the sand wrapped around his feet like warm slippers.
He wiggled his toes so they poked through and gazed out to the ocean. He searched for the spot beyond the waves where the sky met the earth. In the evenings overseas, he did the same with the setting sun and desert, straining to find the meeting point between the earth and the rest of the universe. Inhaling the salty tang of the ocean, he tried to imprint the scent onto his mind. He’d made it back to US soil. Not everyone had. He thought of the ones who’d never return, never breathe in the cool ocean air again, and his chest tightened.
No, he couldn’t drown in survivor’s guilt. He had to live for those who hadn’t. Had to do something with his life to honor sacrifices he’d never forget.
A set of shell wind chimes hanging at the screen door announced his return to his parents’ vacation cottage. When the real estate market had crashed several years back, his parents had been able to finally afford the down payment. Now they spent most of their weekends and vacations driving from Boston to the Cape, giving Antonio details on the traffic en route.
His father sat on his worn recliner in front of the TV. “How was the beach?”
“Good. I miss the ocean like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Dinner’s ready,” his mother called.
Since he’d come home for good from the Marines after four long years that seemed like forty, his mother had doted on him like he was ten again. They sat at the four-person wooden table his mother had covered with a white tablecloth. She’d gone all out and set the table with china and wine glasses. His father opened a bottle of Chianti and toasted, “We’re glad you’re safe at home.”
Antonio toasted and sipped his wine, then he laughed. “I’ve been home for ten days already. You think you’d be used to it by now.”
After they’d polished off much of a lasagna and a bottle of Chianti, his mother said, “There’s a fair in Yarmouth. We should go tomorrow.”
Antonio and his father glanced at each other. One of his mother’s crazy ideas of quality family time. “Oh, come on, it will be fun. Music, food, shows.”
“We’ll see, Ma.” He pushed his chair back. “Dinner was good.” He rubbed his stomach. “You’re going to fatten me up before the summer’s up.”
“Good. You need some more meat back on these bones.” She squeezed his arm, leaner than ever, the muscles and veins visible under his skin.
He kissed her on the top of her head. She stood a foot shorter than he and his dad, but feisty as all hell. “Thanks for dinner.”
The blazing colors of the setting sun dominated the clear blue sky. Antonio walked along the dunes, marveling at the dueling colors, and his mind drifted to the woman who’d dominated his thoughts for the past few years. Lina. Was she married by now? Did she have kids? The idea hit him as hard in his gut as training with a pugil stick. Now that he was back home, he had so many decisions to make. The start of a new life was never easy.
On the walk up the beach, he passed a woman sitting on a colorful quilted blanket. Her hair was so black, it reflected the sun like a mirror. She was crocheting something that looked like a blanket, but she stopped to glance at him as he passed. At first, Antonio thought she was checking him out, and he sucked his gut in, but she cocked her head to the side as she surveyed him. The way her eyes bore into his wasn’t sexual; it was as if she knew something about him. He nodded to acknowledge her and continued walking, trying to shake off her unsettling gaze.
The next afternoon, Antonio and his father humored his mother by agreeing to go to the fair. After they indulged in too much fried food, his mother stopped to speak to a lady at a table covered with homemade jams and salsa.
“I’m going to walk around. Catch up with you soon,” Antonio said. His mother could talk about food all day.
He walked past couples, teens, and families with young children excited by all there was to see at the fair. A black-haired woman sitting behind a table covered with red velvet and stones and an ancient-looking deck of gold-edged cards looked familiar. On a larger table to her left were a variety of perfume bottles, hair accessories, and silver jewelry. How he recognized her came to him—she was the one crocheting at the beach yesterday.
Antonio didn’t know why he walked over to her. Fortune-tellers were a crock full of shit, out to swindle naïve people of money. But something about the way she peered at him from inquisitive dark eyes intrigued him.
“Hello,” he said with a nod. “Didn’t I see you on the beach in Falmouth yesterday?”
“Indeed,” she said. “Please, have a seat.” She waved her arm at the foldout chair on his side of the table.
“Are you some kind of”—what was the word he was looking for?—“fortune-teller?”
The corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. “Would you like me to read for you?”
“Oh, no,” he waved, leaning back. “I don’t believe in that kind of thing.”
She tilted her head again and watched him. “What’s your name?”
“Antonio.”
“Carlotta.” She extended a slim hand, and he was surprised at the strength when he shook it. “What do you like to do, Antonio?”
“What do you mean?”
“Surely you have hobbies.”
Hobbies. He’d been deployed for what seemed like so long, that word didn’t exist. The little downtime they had, they unwound with books, movies, video games. He shrugged. “Can’t think of any right now.”
“If you could do anything you wanted tonight,” she prodded, “what would it be?”
Antonio searched his memories for a time he’d been happy and settled on the nights before he’d enlisted. He and Lina had gone to the clubs in and around Boston, listening to live music. He pictured her sapphire eyes peering at him over her glass, the colorful lights from the stage dancing in reflections off her blonde hair.
“I don’t know. Go to a club. Listen to some live music.”
“And who would you like to do this with?”
Lina.
“Nobody in particular,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pocket.
She glanced at him with an arched brow, calling out his bullshit. She picked up an oversize deck of cards, ornate with colorful designs and gold edging. Handing it to him, she said, “Shuffle these.”
He took them, but then glanced around the fair with self-consciousness. “I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he said, following her instructions. “This is foolish.”
“Some people feel that way,” she agreed. “Not understanding something leads to strange reactions. Anger, disbelief, fear.” She nodded at the cards in his hands. “While you shuffle them, think about what’s troubling you. I can see something playing on your emotions.”
He closed his eyes, his mind racing over the past few years. The deployments, the break with Lina, starting a new life after the Marines.
“If you’re finished, pass them to me.”
He’d been shuffling the cards quickly and hadn’t realized he had stopped. He stared at them as if they were alive as he handed them over.
“This is a special deck of Tarot cards, which I thought would work best in your situation. I’m going to do a quick reading, okay?”
He blinked in quick succession and stood. “This is too weird for me. I’m a Marine. We don’t do Tarot cards.”
“Please sit,” she said. “You came to me for a reason.”
His brows tightened, but he sat back down and watched her hands as she flipped one card after another, laying them in horizontal and vertical rows. She flipped one card over and studied it. “You have much pain in your past. Pain that affects you even to this day.” She flipped a few more cards. “You’re at a crossroads right now, filled with confusion, not sure what path you should take.” She turned over the remainder of the cards. “The lovers.” She raised an eyebrow, and he squirmed in his seat. “One path follows love. The other duty, a career serving others.”
“They can’t be together?”
She studied the cards. “If you follow one path, one will naturally follow the other. If you follow the other,” she said, cocking a brow, “well, you will be successful in your career.”
“So you’re saying I should follow love?”
“This is your choice,” she added. “Your journey.”
“What’s with the card of lovers?”
“I think you know who she represents.”
“Of course not,” he said. “These are your crazy cards. I can’t read them.” Carlotta eyed him unblinking, and he changed his reply. “Yes. I think I do.”
“Do you want to go to her?”
His heart pounded with the hope that it could happen, before he remembered he had destroyed any chance of being with her three years ago. His lips straightened into a grim line. “Too much time has passed.”
“Nonsense,” she shooed. “Time is an aphrodisiac that brings lovers closer.” Her gaze drifted off into the bustle of the fair, and Antonio wondered who she was pining for. She returned her focus to him. “When you go home, you will receive a ticket. Go where it’s directing you. It will help you find what you seek.”
Antonio scrunched his face, wondering if she was playing him for a fool. “How much do I owe you?”
“Why don’t you buy your mother this perfume she’d like, and we’ll call it even.”
How did she know about his mother or what she’d like?
Chapter 2
“That’s weird.” Lina glanced from her laptop to her roommate, Krystal. “I got an email saying I won a Facebook contest to see the Naked Jacks tonight.”
“Awesome!” Krystal raised her thumbs, one of the only parts of her arms not covered in tattoos.
“I don’t even remember entering any contest.”
“Who cares? You won anyway.” Krystal practically crawled over her to see her laptop. “How many tickets? Where? You know I love them.”
“I can tell.” Lina raised her eyebrows. “You almost knocked me off the couch.”
“Two tickets. At the Red Room. You’re bringing me, right?”
Lina hesitated. “Umm—I should probably ask Brett.”
“God, no.” Krystal waved a hand in dismissal. “Totally not his scene. No sports involved. Besides, we’d have way more fun.”
“I have fun with Brett,” Lina protested.
“Not our kind of fun. Besides, he will get to see enough of you when you move in with him. We only have a couple more weeks in this apartment together. Let’s finish them up in style.”
Antonio stared at the ticket that arrived in the mail. It was for a local band at a nightclub in Boston. The Naked Jacks? Never heard of them. And the Red Room must be new. He’d been away in the Marines so long he didn’t recognize the latest in town.
Curiosity gnawed at him. It was the fortune-teller’s work, no doubt, but he still wondered if she was toying with him. Would she be somewhere in the club laughing at the fool following her on a wild chase to nowhere?
He took a shower and found a pair of clean jeans and an unwrinkled black T-shirt. He fought the urge to press them both. Marines developed a forced addiction to ironing after having reminders drilled into them. But Boston was a college town, and he had to loosen back up to not appear like a stiff old man at the ripe old age of twenty-two.
He arrived at the club in time to watch the opening band. Moving through the main section of the club, he headed downstairs to the “Cavern,” where the bands played. While the upstairs section was well-lit and bright, the Cavern reflected its name—a dark room with rounded walls resembling a cave, circular archways that led to the restrooms, and a bar with many nooks with shelves of alcohol highlighted by electric candles. Rubber bats were affixed over the walls with clusters at the bar. Antonio’s lips curled into a smile when he read the sign hung above the bar—“Guano.” The letters were in a lime-green font. He took in the scents of the club, the beer ingrained in the floor, the light sweat coming from bodies on a hot summer night, the fragrances from the women walking past. A few gave him prolonged glances, but he wasn’t interested in pursuing anyone tonight.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.
“What’s that beer with the silhouette with the witch on tap?”
“Midsummer Nights Ale. From a Salem brewery. Light. Good for a hot summer night down in the cavern.”
Now that he was home, Antonio wanted to sample all the food difficult to find overseas. “I’ll try it.”
Although it was dark in the Cavern, the lights dimmed even more. Antonio paid for his drink and moved a few feet away from the bar. He took a sip. Ice cold and light. Refreshing and tingling on his tongue. God, he missed a cold beer.
People were scattered around the space, the crowd still sparse. A mix of men and women congregated in areas, most men wearing black, jeans, or concert shirts; the women in tight pants and shirts or slinky dresses. The few sporting camouflage caught his eye. A pair of cut-offs here, a tank top there, but they weren’t military uniforms, just some sort of fashion or rebellious statement. When the spotlights shone on stage, everyone focused their attention that way as the opening band took their instruments and began their set.
* * *
&
nbsp; Krystal convinced her to dress sexy, so Lina put on a black dress that clung to her curves in a most flattering way. She spent extra time on her hair, using all those conditioning treatments she usually skipped, and the effect left her blonde hair shiny, leaving the lavender streak in sharp contrast to the black backdrop of the dress. With a pair of high-heeled boots, deep rose lipstick, and expertly-lined eyes, she had to admit, she looked pretty damn good. Krystal chose a flashier look—a tight black micro skirt with a tighter red tank top, her black hair piled in a haphazard loose bun fixed with red chopsticks.