Rescued Heart (Titan World)

by Tarina Deaton

  RESCUED HEART

  Combat Hearts Series

  A Titan World Novel

  Tarina Deaton

  COPYRIGHT © 2016 Tarina Deaton

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. With the exception of limited quotes used for the purpose of reviews, no part of this book, whether in print or ebook format, may be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means - electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  Editor: Jessica Snyder

  Cover Design: Imagination UnCovered

  Interior Format by The Killion Group, Inc. www.thekilliongroupinc.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Introduction from Cristin Harber

  Glossary of Military Terms

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About Tarina

  Also by Tarina

  ALSO BY TARINA

  Stitched Up Heart

  Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon CA, iBooks, B&N, Kobo

  COMING SOON

  Half-Broke Heart - A Combat Hearts novella (May 2017)

  Locked Down Heart - (November 2017)

  DEDICATION

  To Team Titan.

  Thanks for trusting me with your boys.

  INTRODUCTION FROM CRISTIN HARBER

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Titan World books with stories ranging from military romance to paranormal to contemporary romance. There’s something for everyone—action-packed romance, swoon-worthy moments, and happily ever after!

  When I started the Titan series, I wanted to combine my love of steamy romance and action-packed suspense. I wrote strong men and women that I hoped readers would fall in love with. I can’t think of anything more exciting than opening my world up to very talented authors to extend that experience so that you, the reader, can have a deeper connection to more than one book series at a time.

  You will meet new characters and see them interact with familiar ones; you will also see the interpretation of the Titan universe through another author’s eyes. I hope that you take the time to experience each book in the Titan World series!

  Now, I’m happy to introduce you to Tarina Deaton’s Rescued Heart, where her Combat Hearts series meets the Titan Group in a military romance about a soldier who can’t resist his best friend’s sister while on assignment.

  Thank you to Tarina and all the authors who took time out of their busy writing schedules to participate in this project. I think the result is something truly special for our readers.

  Titan Hugs and Happy Reading,

  Cristin Harber

  RESCUED HEART

  “Please, Jordan. It’s Emme.”

  The last thing Major Jordan Grant expected was to be pulled off his unit’s deployment for a civilian mission. But when Titan calls, you answer — especially when the mission is to rescue the younger sister of your childhood best friend.

  Moments away from death, NGO nurse Emme France could only pray for a miracle. The last person she expected to see in the smoke and dust was Jordan Grant, her teenage crush and litmus test of all the men she’d dated ever since.

  Lying low at Titan’s exotic Abu Dhabi headquarters while the media furor around her rescue settles, Emme and Jordan explore a mutual attraction that is no longer young and innocent. Days in the desert paradise ignite desire and blur reality…until they return home, where Jordan rejoins his deployed unit and Emme is left alone to reevaluate her life and priorities.

  Their passion was forged in the fires of combat. Will the home fires be enough to keep the burn alive?

  GLOSSARY OF MILITARY TERMS

  I use a lot of military terms in Rescued Heart. Some of them, you can figure out by context, but some of them require an explanation. Some have multiple meanings and, even in the service, you sometimes have to ask for clarification. To make it easier for you, I’ve included a definition of the following terms:

  C-130: A four-engine turbo-prop military transport aircraft. Special Forces guys like to jump out of the back of them.

  Dishdasha: Long, white, ankle-length robe-like garment worn by men in the Middle East.

  High-and-tight: Military style haircut. Close cut on the sides, very short on the top.

  JSOC: Joint Special Operations Command. Headquartered at Ft. Bragg, NC.

  Landstuhl: Landstuhl Regional Medical Center - stop-over for serious casualties from Iraq and Afghanistan before being flown to the United States.

  LZ: Landing Zone. Designated spot aircraft (usually helicopters) land.

  M-4: Military issue rifle.

  NVGs: Night Vision Goggles. Sometimes referred to at nogs.

  PT: Physical Training. In the Army it is conducted at some un-godly hour of the morning. May also mean Physical Therapy, depending on how broken your body is.

  ROTC: Reserve Officer Training Corps. College based officer training/scholarship program resulting in a military commission.

  RPG: Rocket Propelled Grenade. Beloved by insurgent militias the world over.

  Ruck: Short for Ruck Sack. Fancy military term for ‘backpack’. Usually loaded down with at least fifty pounds of gear. Carried on very long marches, called ruck marches. Long distance hikes conducted by masochists. The Air Force does not do this.

  Sand-tabling: A table-top practice of an operation or mission, using a model of the target. Named because it used to be done on tables of sand.

  Silkies: Short, thin running shorts. They come in tan, green, and black. Also referred to as “Ranger panties”.

  SOCOM: Special Operations Command. Parent organization of JSOC and other Special Operations units. Headquartered in Tampa, FL.

  Souq: An open air market. Where Carrie runs into Aiden in Sex and the City 2.

  Terminal Leave: That magical twilight period when a military service member uses their accumulated leave to practice being a civilian, taken between their last official day of leave and their actual separation/retirement date.

  Twenty-two hundred: 10pm. Military clocks run on a twenty-four hour period. An easy way to teach simple math.

  UAV: Unmanned Ariel Vehicle. May also be referred to as a drone.

  VTC: Video Teleconference. FaceTime for the military.

  Wheels up: An abbreviated way of saying take-off time. Because the wheels are up off the ground. Gotta keep things simple for some of these guys.

  XO: Executive Officer. In charge of an Army unit's administrative operations and is usually the second-ranked officer in the unit.

  PROLOGUE

  Jordan Grant pulled around the corner and parked along the curb a few houses down from the France’s house. Damn, he was late. His dad was going to kill him for mis
sing half of his own ‘welcome-back-from-college’ barbecue. It blew, having to work on his summer vacation, but his ROTC scholarship didn’t give him time to work during the school year.

  Walking up to the side of the house, he caught a glimpse of Emme’s dark curls rounding the corner. Guess he wasn’t the only one running late.

  “Emme!” She didn’t turn around. In fact, it looked like she was trying to avoid him. “Emme, wait up.” He broke into a jog as she ran across the yard and headed to the small gazebo in the back.

  He stepped into the covered wooden platform. “Emme Lou Who, what you running for?” She kept her back to him. What? No Jordan Jingleballs? “Hey. What’s wrong?

  She sniffed. “Please go away, Jordan.”

  What the hell? “Are you crying?” Because he teased her?

  Her head shook, sending her mass of curls tumbling across her back, and turned further into the corner.

  He sat next to her. “Emme, talk to me.”

  A sob shook her shoulders and her hands covered her face.

  “Do you want me to get your mom?”

  She shook her head harder and he caught a whiff of her flowery shampoo. His dick stirred in his jeans. What the hell? Not the right time, not the right person.

  “Then talk to me.” And please, god, stop crying.

  “I broke up with my boyfriend,” she said in a small voice.

  Oh, shit. He leaned a little away from her. “I think you should talk to your mom about this.”

  “No!” She tilted her face up, tears streaming down her face from her honey-colored eyes. “She’ll tell Dad and he’ll get angry and do something stupid.”

  “Okay.” He took one of her hands in his. “Then tell me what happened.”

  “I thought he liked me, but it was just a stupid bet.”

  “Who? What?”

  “David Baker.”

  His head reared back. “Daniel Baker’s brother?”

  She nodded.

  Damn right she needed to worry about what her dad would do if the little brother was anything like the older brother. “What happened, Emme?”

  “He wanted to have sex, but I didn’t want to.”

  Jordan clenched his teeth and tamped down the rage threatening to overtake him. If this story ended up with anything other than that fuckwad saying “all right then”, he was going to fucking lose it. “Did he—?”

  Her head shook vehemently. “No. He took ‘no’ for an answer, but he wasn’t nice about it.” She started crying again. “He called me a tease and said I was nothing but a stuck-up bitch.” She ended on a sob.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. “Emme—”

  “That’s not even the worst part,” she cried. “He said— He said the only reason he asked me out in the first place was because…because the bounty on my virginity is two-hundred dollars.” She turned her face into his chest and cried uncontrollably.

  That son of a bitch. He was dead.

  Jordan wanted to rush into the house, grab Doug, find that asshole, and beat the shit out of him. Instead, he rocked her while he rubbed her back.

  “Emme, I want you to listen to me. No guy who says shit like that to you is worth your tears.”

  “I know. I do, but it still hurts,” she said into his chest.

  He kissed top of her head then tilted it back. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red. “You’re beautiful and smart and special. One day, you’re going to find someone who sees all of that in you and treats you the way you deserve to be treated. It sure as hell isn’t going to be an asshole like David Baker.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  She sniffed and took a shuddering breath through parted lips. Her long, spiky lashes framed eyes that had little flecks of green in them. Shit. She was beautiful. When had that happened? When had little Emme Lou Who grown up?

  He shouldn’t notice. She was his best friend’s little sister and four years younger. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and he lost his will to fight. He closed the distance between them, giving her time to pull away.

  She didn’t and he tasted her tears.

  It was sweet and chaste, like something out of chick flick. He tried to tell himself it didn’t mean anything — he was just comforting her, but a small part of his mind knew he was lying to himself. Kissing Emme was different. Special.

  And a mistake that could never happen again.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Emmeline France ran the threadbare towel across her forehead, stopping the rivulets of sweat from dripping into her eyes. New drops beaded up along her hairline. The heat of the West African summer was unrelenting and she stared up at the slow-turning aluminum ceiling fans. Move the air, you useless pieces of metal.

  “Anuli, how many patients are waiting?” The sip of room temperature water did little to cool her down. She grimaced, sick of drinking water. God, she’d pay good money for an iced latte.

  “Three, Miss Emme. I think one about to have the baby.” Although Anuli’s thick, lyrical French and Bambara accent sounded as tired as she looked, she seemed unaffected by the heat.

  Emme looked at the clock on the dingy wall. Why did it feel like she’d jammed twenty hours into the last twelve? Go to Africa, they said. It’ll be rewarding, they said. It was. But it was also hot, dusty, and incredibly frustrating.

  Sometimes it sucked being the only clinic for miles that catered to women and children. “Okay. Take her to room four and get her comfortable. Is she here by herself?”

  “Yes.”

  She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Close the front door before you take her back. We’ll call it a day after these last few.”

  Pushing to her feet, she braced her hands on her hips and twisted at the waist to crack her lower back. Three more patients and then she could put on some shorts and read a book. Hopefully, she’d stay awake through a full chapter this time.

  She walked down the short hall to the waiting room and asked for the next patient. She led the young girl accompanied by an Auntie, an older woman from her village, to one of the exam rooms.

  “How are you today?”

  “I am good,” the girl said.

  “My name is Emme. What’s yours?”

  “Mariam.” She sat still on the end of the table, her hands folded in her lap while her Auntie stood next to her.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mariam. How can I help you today?”

  “I think I am pregnant.” Her happiness shone through in her wide smile.

  She pulled the stethoscope from around her neck. “How old are you Mariam?”

  “Fifteen.”

  Emme plastered on a smile and died a little inside. She’s too young to be a mother. “I’m going to listen to your heart and lungs and then we’ll do a simple pregnancy test, okay?” The girl nodded and sat up straighter.

  She set the stethoscope in her ears and placed the end against the girl’s chest. Even after six months in Mali, it bothered her. It didn’t matter that the government had made child marriages illegal, tribal culture held more sway in this part of the country.

  Shouts erupted from the waiting room. Confused, she pulled the stethoscope from her ears and poked her head out of the curtained-off room. Four armed men rounded the corner, shouting in a mix of French and Tuareg.

  What the hell was going on? She stepped out of the room. “You can’t be here. Vous ne pouvez pas être ici.” They advanced toward her and she held up her hands as if to push them back. “Please, this is a women’s clinic. Please leave.”

  “Tais-toi! Salope!” One of the gunmen slammed the butt of his rifle into her temple. Stars exploded behind her eyes. Her legs gave out and she crumpled onto the hard, cracked linoleum floor. Pain shot through her shoulder, accompanied by a loud pop, when she hit. The edges of her vision blurred.

  Dad is going to have a shit fit. Blackness closed around her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jordan picked
up the ringing phone, never taking his eyes of the situation report he was reading. “Major Grant.”

  “It’s Major Bella. The commander wants to see you.”

  “Got it. Thanks.” He set the receiver back on the cradle. Sitting back in his chair, he rubbed his hands over his high-and-tight and yawned. Christ, he was tired. The dreams had come back in force after the camping trip a month ago and he hadn’t been sleeping for shit. Those trips were supposed to be his escape. Get out, shoot the shit with some friends, relax, reminisce about all the stupid shit they’d done early in their careers.

  Seeing Bree Marks had thrown him for a loop. Brought back memories he didn’t like to remember. If he’d known, he could have prepared himself, but he hadn’t expected to see the person who’d help save him and his team. Fuck, he still cringed thinking about what an ass he’d made of himself in front of Bree and his camping buddies.

  So much for getting past all his issues — he’d been fooling himself. He needed to get his head in the game and go back out. Back to the fight. That’s where he belonged. The only place the world seemed to make sense anymore.

  Sucking back the dregs of coffee, he tossed the cup in the trash before yanking his ID card out of the reader and locking his computer. He took a sharp right out of his office, his movements precise as he walked down the hall to the commander’s office.

  “Good morning, Betty.”

  The commander’s long-time secretary looked up from her computer screen. “Good morning, Major. Go on in, he’s expecting you.”

  Uh, yup. He nodded, biting back his sarcastic reply. The XO had just called him — stood to reason the commander was expecting him. Rapping twice on the doorframe, he waited.