Encounter with a Commanding Officer

by Charlotte Hawkes

  ‘It’s Summer Festival time, ma’am,’ the Corporal offered. ‘Towns up and down the island celebrate in different ways. There’s a parade with floats and live music and dancing not far from here tonight.’

  ‘Really? It all looked beautiful.’ She nodded. ‘I’ve never been to a festival.’

  ‘Never, Major?’ Ash asked curiously, the suddenly pained expression in her eyes twisting at his gut, helping him to compartmentalise his own worries.

  Already he was feeling more at peace than he’d felt in the last forty-eight hours.

  ‘No.’ She shrugged lightly, swiftly covering the moment.

  He might tell himself it was none of his business but his mind kept asking questions.

  Wordlessly, Ash reached for the rucksacks, passing Fliss hers as he hoisted his own onto his shoulder before thanking the young NCO and wishing him a safe return, then striding ahead into the cool hotel lobby to begin check-in. He couldn’t even stop to see if Fliss was accompanying him. In uniform, and with the Corporal around, there was no place for chivalry.

  Moments later he heard her greet the other receptionist at the far end of the four-metre-long desk and begin to confirm the booking the desk sergeant had made back at the airport base.

  ‘I’m sorry you weren’t able to get onto the six a.m. flight tomorrow morning with your colleague,’ Ash heard the clerk saying.

  ‘It’s fine; don’t worry.’ Fliss’s soothing smile carried in her tone. ‘I was more than happy to get the early evening flight.’

  ‘Still, the hotel would like to offer you a complimentary massage treatment in our spa, as well as use of our facilities even after the midday check-out.’

  ‘Gosh, that’s really kind of you,’ she enthused in typical Fliss fashion. ‘Thank you; I’d appreciate that.’

  Images of Fliss’s luscious body instantly flooded Ash’s brain and he burned all over again, suppressing a grin. Yep, there was no denying that something about the woman transported him back to his teenage years.

  His eyes slid across to hers for a fraction of an instant before she bowed her head with a flush. But not before he’d caught the sparkle of delight at his unrestrained interest.

  Ash marvelled at the fact that neither Fliss herself, nor her fellow soldiers, appeared to be able to see past their perception of a prim, uptight, rigid rule-following major. There was so much more to the woman, so much raw passion, which bubbled away barely beneath the surface. She was like one of those papier-mâché volcanos Wilfred had taught him to make in their little man shed at the bottom of the garden. But instead of adding white vinegar to the bicarb mix to make it erupt, all Fliss would need would be a little love and the emotion would spill out of her.

  Where the hell had that come from?

  It was just another reminder that he should stop this now.

  Instead, as though an invisible thread bound them, Ash concluded his check-in and moved along the desk to stand by her, his arm deliberately touching hers as he rested it on the granite surface. Unremarkable to any onlooker, but as his skin seared at the contact and goosebumps sprung up over Fliss’s arm Ash experienced a renewed sense of satisfaction.

  ‘I understand it’s the Summer Festival across the island at the moment; we saw some floats on the way here?’ He deliberately faced the clerk rather than Fliss.

  ‘That’s right, Colonel,’ the young man agreed. ‘There’s a parade tonight. I could book you a taxi if you like; it’s only about a ten-minute drive away.’

  ‘What do you think, Major; shall we give it a go?’

  ‘I...well... I thought this was about...?’ With a subtle side-step she broke the physical contact and took a breath. ‘If that’s what you want, then we’ll go.’

  Relieved to occupy his mind, Ash narrowed his gaze at Fliss. Whatever made Fliss uncertain about going tonight, it wasn’t just about wanting to finish what he’d started with her the other day. She was avoiding something.

  The question was, what?

  He’d spotted a moment of sheer longing in her regard when she’d mentioned the floats. As if it was something she wanted to see but couldn’t bring herself to do.

  He turned back to the young desk clerk. ‘A taxi sounds fine.’

  ‘Very good, sir. And will you be dining in the hotel restaurant?’

  Beside him Fliss stiffened; evidently she preferred the structure of a known location. Yet another reason to change things up and see if he could get past those prickly defences of hers.

  ‘No,’ Ash decided. ‘Thank you but I think we’ll wing it and enjoy the festival atmosphere. Major, I’ll be over by the lifts when you’ve concluded here.’

  Before she could object to the change in evening plans he hoisted up the rucksacks, ignoring her attempts at a protest and leaving her with only a smaller one for appearance’ sake. Then, making his way to the seating area, he watched her ramrod-straight back as she controlled her frustration, instead maintaining her charming smile for the clerk whilst she concluded her check-in.

  By the time she finished and marched over he was already holding a lift for her and she stepped inside and pivoted stiffly around, opening her mouth.

  ‘Which floor, Major?’ he enquired politely, effectively cutting her off.

  ‘Oh.’ She halted, flipping the keycard over to check her room number. ‘Fifth. Please.’

  She waited for the lift doors to close before turning on him.

  ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘Do what?’ he asked innocently.

  ‘Decide we should go to the parade?’

  ‘Don’t you want to?’ He kept his voice deliberately even. ‘It sounded like a bit of fun after the last six months you’ve had out there. Is there any reason you wouldn’t want to go?’

  She hesitated a fraction too long. ‘No.’

  ‘Okay.’ He smiled carefully. ‘So, what’s the issue?’

  Fliss lowered her bergen, clearly buying herself time. ‘I thought tonight was about...’ She flushed. ‘I don’t know what it’s about. Talking, or...sex, I guess.’

  He deliberately didn’t react. He couldn’t say the same for his body.

  ‘You weren’t planning to eat?’

  ‘I...obviously.’

  She didn’t fool him; she clearly hadn’t considered food at all. He suspected she’d been so caught up in doing something out of character that she’d only geared herself up for the moment itself, without thinking around it.

  In a sense it was flattering.

  ‘You just thought we’d go to the room and get down to it?’ he continued, not unkindly.

  ‘Well...no.’

  ‘How exactly did you think the evening would pan out, Fliss?’

  ‘I don’t know but I...we were going to...sleep together...the other day,’ she croaked eventually.

  ‘For the record, there wasn’t going to be any sleeping going on.’ He arched his eyebrows.

  She shivered in appreciation. ‘No.’

  ‘But at least then it would have been spontaneous. Natural,’ he pointed out. ‘This isn’t the same. I just thought it would be nice to go for a meal together, chat a little, let things develop at their own pace.’

  She paused. He was throwing her off, one minute firing her up and the next trying to relax her. She wasn’t sure if it was deliberate, or if Ash himself was having trouble deciding which he’d rather do.

  ‘That does sound...nice. But why go out? The restaurant has a good reputation.’

  ‘And it’s also too close to the bedrooms. Do you really think you’d be able to relax? I felt it would help to get right away from here for a few hours, release the pressure valve and just get to know each other a little.’

  Not entirely a lie.

  ‘Is that what you usually do? Get to know your one-night stands?�
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  ‘I’ve told you before, you shouldn’t go on reputation alone. Yes, I like to know a little about a woman I might choose to have sex with. And, even if I didn’t, I’d like to know a little about you.’

  He let her digest that for a moment, wondering if it would frighten her off. He already knew enough to know that talking about herself was the last thing she enjoyed doing.

  She sucked in a steadying breath, her words slow and thoughtful.

  ‘You’re talking about a meal and an evening out?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Kind of like a date?’

  ‘Exactly like a date.’

  ‘Okay, then.’ Fliss offered him a weak smile just as the lift stopped and the doors pinged open.

  Rucksacks in hand, they walked along the corridor together.

  ‘Fine, then how about I meet you in the lobby, say around nineteen-hundred hours?’

  ‘Nineteen-hundred hours.’ She nodded as she stopped at a bedroom door. ‘This is me.’

  Obligingly, he set her kit down and as he stood outside her door he debated the wisdom of his decision to wait. It took a dignified effort to continue along the corridor.

  A linen closet separated his room from hers.

  Slipping his keycard out of his pocket, Ash deftly passed it through the lock, opening the door before he could change his mind. But in his peripheral vision he could see Fliss still stuck at her own door, stabbing the card into the reader. He watched it flash red a couple of times. Pushing his door open, he dropped his bergens inside and strode back down the corridor to take the keycard gently from her fingers.

  ‘Don’t be so rushed,’ he murmured, sliding it gracefully through the lock and seeing the green light. Like some kind of sign. ‘Take it slowly.’

  ‘Slowly,’ she echoed shakily. ‘Got it.’

  They both knew they were talking about more than the lock.

  ‘You’re sure you’re not coming in?’ Tentatively, she raised one hand to touch his lapel with her palm.

  He knew it was her attempt to avoid having to go to the carnival, but it still had an effect. He groaned. His self-control was barely intact as it was.

  ‘Fliss, I’m trying to do the gentlemanly thing here.’

  ‘I never asked for that,’ she whispered. ‘It wasn’t the gentle side of you which attracted me in the first place.’

  ‘You wouldn’t like the other side of me,’ he growled.

  ‘How do you know?’

  They stood, unmoving and silent, until she snatched back her hand, yanked at the door handle and stumbled over the threshold.

  ‘Never mind. You’re right. I’m not exactly the kind of woman who elicits impulsive tendencies.’

  He followed her in swiftly, catching her shoulders and spinning her back around as he drew her close.

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong.’

  His hands cupping her face, he pinned her back against the wall and lowered his mouth to hers. She tasted every bit as sweet as he recalled, but this time it was laced with a hint of ferocity, as though heightened by the frustration of their last encounter. He caught her lower lip in his as her hands inched up his arms to rest on his shoulders, her body moulding itself to his despite the uniforms in the way.

  This needed to stop. It wasn’t the way he wanted things to go between them.

  She flicked her tongue over his.

  With another groan Ash deepened the kiss, so long and deep that his only thought was that he could drown in her kisses and never want to come up for air. Heat licking over him, his hands glided up her body to rest at the underside of her breasts. He wanted to touch every incredible inch of her body, and have her touch every single inch of his.

  As abruptly as he’d started it, Ash drew away, his voice rasping. ‘Now do you see that you’re the kind of woman who can drive a man wild with longing?’

  Without another word, he hauled open the door and marched to his own room before temptation undermined him.

  Closing the door, he leaned heavily on it.

  This was no longer just a matter of a distraction from the blackness inside him. Or about getting past Fliss’s prickly armour. It was more than that. It had become a matter of exerting his own self-control. He wanted her with a need that actually scared him.

  He couldn’t allow his emotions to rule him like that. If he could control the course of the evening, rein in his hunger for Fliss long enough to get through a date, then enjoy one incredible night with the woman before walking away and never looking back, then maybe he could indulge in his desire for her without losing his prized self-control.

  He had to. If he didn’t, then stirring any emotions tonight could bring the whole lot crashing down.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FLISS SCREWED CLOSED the lid of her new mascara bottle with shaking hands as she checked her reflection in the mirror with a hesitant smile and tried to quell the rolling in her lower abdomen. An orchestra of crickets might as well have decamped in there. She rarely wore make-up, certainly never at work, but she’d found a few perfect supplies at the local market—not too much, but enough to enhance her sun-kissed glow—and couldn’t help wondering if Ash would like what he saw.

  Logically, it shouldn’t matter; she’d learned a long time ago not to care what anyone thought. But nothing about Ash was what she was used to. Logic seemed to fly out of the window when he was around, as did practicality. She should have refused the moment he’d raised the idea of seeing the carnival. After the last couple of emotional weeks, it threatened to unearth things best left forgotten. Instead, she’d let Ash talk her into it.

  She was acting on pure lust and complete gut instinct. It was absurd and it was terrifying.

  And it was also intoxicating.

  She couldn’t even remember when she’d last been excited about going on a date, let alone excited about getting ready to go on a date. She’d heard girls giggling about it over the years, but she’d never understood it. Until now. It was why she’d actually enjoyed spending a portion of her afternoon, when she would otherwise have preferred to be sleeping, going down to the local tourist market and uncovering unexpected treasures like the tiny pot of powder and brush, the subtly sparkling lipgloss and the wand of mascara. She’d even managed to squeeze in an appointment at the hotel’s hair salon. Elle would never have recognised her, but she could hear her friend’s approving voice in her ear, urging Fliss to just have fun for once.

  Well, she definitely intended to do that.

  Satisfied, she reached for her keycard and new clutch bag and then for the door handle.

  It was ten to seven and she was going to be early—dating rules probably dictated that she shouldn’t be, but Fliss couldn’t help that. Punctuality was ingrained in her. She couldn’t change that now.

  Taking every last ounce of confidence in her hands, she stepped out of the door and made her way to the lift. The last person she expected to see standing there was Ash, a crisp shirt doing little to conceal those broad shoulders or honed physique which had already marked him out as an eligible male within a contingent of the females down here. Somehow he managed to appear even more powerful and commanding than he did in his military uniform.

  A hint of possessiveness shot through her, mingled with a pinch of smugness that she was the woman he was waiting for. But then her heart plummeted; he didn’t exactly look pleased to see her hurrying straight over to his corner.

  Served her right for her hubris.

  ‘You’re early too.’ She nervously smoothed down her black jersey trousers to hide her unease.

  The trousers might have been old but they were also comfy, flowing prettily around her legs. The perfect foil to her new, uncharacteristically sexy, cleavage-revealing halter-top, which she was suddenly thinking might be a little too nightclub for her.<
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  ‘Felicity—’ he looked genuinely thrown ‘—you look...incredible.’

  With a start, Fliss realised that he hadn’t immediately recognised her, but now he had he treated her to a full, very heated appraisal, darkened eyes taking in the visual of head to toe, and everything in between.

  Her confidence bounced back a little. He clearly liked what he saw but, when he hadn’t appreciated it was her, he hadn’t been about to flirt with the stranger heading in his direction. The crackle of crickets leapt around Fliss even more madly.

  ‘Your hair,’ he managed.

  Self-consciously, she flicked at the cascade of gold, expertly volumised so that she felt like some kind of glamorous shampoo model.

  ‘New clothes?’

  Her confidence rose a little higher again. He was having a hard time lifting his eyes from her cleavage. But, rather than feeling self-conscious, or condemning Ash for his primal reaction, an unexpected sliver of sensual power rippled through her. She felt bold and sexy, and proudly feminine. She chose not to answer the question.

  ‘Shall we see if the taxi is here?’

  He stepped close to her by way of response, sliding a strong palm to the dip of her back as they moved through the foyer. It was such a small but intimate gesture, he might as well have seared its impression into her skin.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ he murmured into her hair.

  Stay calm.

  ‘Famished.’

  ‘Good.’ He guided her out of the doors and to the waiting taxi. ‘Then let’s go.’

  * * *

  The drive was fortunately short—being so close to Ash on the back seat was having a woeful effect on her ability to breathe, let alone to construct coherent sentences. She tried to move her thigh from his, the solid, muscular length playing havoc on her senses, but he simply closed the gap again and all she could think about was what was going to happen later that evening back in the hotel room.

  Arriving at their destination was both a relief and a disappointment and Fliss tried to concentrate on the carnival sounds to distract herself. The evening had barely started and she was already hung up on what was to come. She was beginning to be grateful to Ash for starting the evening far away from the hotel.