Rescued Heart (Titan World)

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Rescued Heart (Titan World) Page 7

by Tarina Deaton


  The tension in his shoulders released. “Oh. Where did you get the clothes?”

  “Fatima said to help myself to what was in the closet.”

  “No shoes?”

  She shook her head. “Not in my size.”

  “Stand by.” He picked up the phone on the side table and pressed zero.

  “Good morning, concierge.”

  “Good morning. Is it possible to have someone purchase some shoes?”

  “Of course, sir. What type of shoes?”

  He drew a blank. “Hang on a sec.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at Emme, who had stretched out on the couch. “What kind of shoes?”

  “Comfortable walking shoes. Size eight. And socks.”

  He repeated her request to the concierge.

  “We will send a selection up to your room shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  Emme had propped her head on the armrest. Her eyes were closed and her hand rested under her cheek. The opening of her shirt had gaped, exposing her deep cleavage. Well, fuck. Now what? He paced around the room.

  The walk was supposed to be a distraction. Something to keep them occupied now that they were alone. In a suite. With three large beds in close proximity.

  Quit thinking about the beds, asshole.

  Dropping to the floor on the far side of the room, he knocked out a few dozen pushups. Had to keep up his manly physique. He smirked. She though he was hot. He flipped over to do sit-ups.

  He needed to figure out a plan for the next two weeks. He’d go nucking futs if he didn’t have anything to do. It hadn’t even been two hours and he was ready to crawl out of his skin.

  Propping his elbows on his knees, he looked at his watch and calculated the time difference. Unless there’d been a delay, his unit should’ve arrived in Djibouti. They’d be doing a turn-over with the out-going unit. Settling in to their new routine and bitching about the jet lag, lack of space, and crap food.

  He rubbed his hands over his head. Getting to his unit once he got Emme home was going to be a pain in the ass. He’d email the sergeant major later and check in to start making arrangements.

  A knock sounded at the door and he popped up to answer. Emme sat up on the couch and stretched her arm over her head. She looked at him over her shoulder with sleepy eyes.

  He looked through the peephole, opened the door, and stepped back while two men dressed in the hotel uniform and loaded down with shoe boxes entered.

  “Good afternoon, sir. Where may we leave these?” one of the men asked.

  “The dining table, I guess.”

  “Very good.” They set the boxes on the table, bowed, and left.

  There were sixteen boxes on the table.

  Emme’s blouse brushed his arm when she joined him. Tingles shot through his body and swirled around in his gut and chest. What the fuck was happening to him? He was acting like a teenager getting close to his first crush.

  “That’s a lot of shoes,” she said. “What did you ask for?”

  Bemused, he looked at her. She was staring, wide-eyed, at the stack. “Walking shoes. Size eight.”

  “These are all designer.”

  He dropped an arm around her shoulders. “Babe. I have no idea what that means.”

  She looked up at him, the top of her head barely reaching his chin. “It means they’re expensive.”

  He shrugged. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure Titan is paying.”

  “Huh. Remind me to hug Jared again.”

  Not fucking likely.

  She reached forward and lifted the lid off one of the boxes, pulling out a pair of red, strappy heels. “These are not walking shoes.”

  No, but they’re ‘fuck-me’ shoes. He pulled his arm from her shoulder. Jesus. He needed to scrub his brain clean and quit thinking about her like that. Sucked for him that she’d burrowed under his skin at some point over the last few days. The more he scratched the worse it itched. Like a chigger.

  Lifting the boxes, she looked at the labels on the end. She went through half a dozen boxes before opening one and pulled out a pair of cream canvas flats. Dropping them on the floor, she slipped her feet in and walked across the room, turned, and walked back.

  “These’ll work,” she said.

  “You ready? We can find somewhere to eat.”

  “Let me grab something real quick.” She went into her room and returned wearing a gauzy pink scarf draped around her head and neck.

  “Why are you wearing that?” he asked.

  “We’re in a Muslim country.” Her tone said duh.

  “We’re not in Saudi. I think you’ll be okay.”

  “It’s respectful,” she said.

  He shrugged. If she wanted to cover her head, he wasn’t going to argue. Grabbing the key from the slot on the wall, he held the door open for her.

  She stepped out of the suite. “I don’t have any money.”

  “It’s covered.” He closed the door and headed to the bank of elevators at the end of the hall.

  “I don’t have any ID, either,” she said.

  He pushed the down button and smiled at her. “Don’t get arrested.”

  She glared.

  He grinned.

  The elevator dinged and they entered the car. It stopped half-way down and two men dressed in traditional dishdashas boarded. The assholes gave Emme a once over.

  Jordan moved her closer to the corner and stood in front of her, blocking her from view. He folded his arms across his chest and glared at the backs of the two men, daring them to look at her. The doors opened on the ground floor and he waited for the men to exit ahead of them before reaching for Emme’s hand.

  “That was a very impressive display of manliness. My virtue is suitably defended.”

  He glare at her. “They shouldn’t have been staring.”

  “Oh, please. That was mild compared to some of the things that’ve happened back home.”

  “They were out of line.”

  “Jordan.” She stopped and pulled her hand out of his.

  He immediately missed having her slender fingers in his. “They were curious. They didn’t leer or make any comments. I’ve been called a bitch because I said ‘no, thank you’ when a guy told me to smile.”

  “What the fuck?”

  Her head fell back as if praying for patience and she set her hand on her hip. He braced for the display of temper he knew was coming. Emme had never been one to hold back when they were younger. This should be good.

  Instead, she dropped her hand and turned in a slow circle, her face alight with wonder. “Oh my god,” she whispered.

  Sweet baby Jesus, his dick throbbed at the tone of her voice. An imagine flashed through his mind — Emme spread out under him, writhing and moaning those same words while he was buried balls deep.

  Two weeks. Fuck.

  He looked up, trying to figure out what held her in thrall. “What?” His voice had a bite he didn’t intend.

  She stopped spinning. “The ceiling.”

  He looked back up. In the center of the lobby, the ceiling arched up several stories, creating a rough dome of marble. “What about it?”

  Her head snapped up. “Seriously? It’s beautiful.”

  He shrugged. “If you say so.”

  Her mouth opened and closed twice. “If I— Look at it. It’s a work of art.”

  The corner of his mouth tipped up at her outrage. “I’m an Army guy, Emme. Architecture isn’t my area of expertise. I’ll take your word for it.”

  She huffed. “Which way?”

  He cocked his head to the rear of the foyer and the large hall leading to the back of the hotel. “That way.”

  Turning on her heel, she walked ahead of him. Her annoyance added an extra flounce to her step and sway in her hips that drew his eyes to her ass. Maybe he shouldn’t fault those two men for checking her out.

  They exited onto the large flagstone patio and she kept going until she reached the steps leading down to the prome
nade. Her rib cage expanded slowly. He could see her inhale. She released her breath and repeated the sequence.

  He stopped to her right. Her face was tilted up to the sun and her eyes were closed. “You okay?”

  “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.” Her voice was soft and reverent.

  His brow furrowed. “What?”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes sparkling. “The end of the world.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “It was really hard at times to remember there was more than that dirt room and getting beat almost every day.” Her voice was soft. “My world had become so small and confined. I’d forgotten there was more to it.”

  “And the ocean helped you remember?”

  “Yes.”

  He tried to see it the way she did. To him it was a natural progression of geography. He turned to face her fully “Did you turn into a hippie?”

  Her laugh was surprisingly light and it hit him like a concussive blast. The force of it should have knocked him off his feet and sent him flying. Her ability to laugh like that in the face of everything that had happened floored him.

  An unexpected longing filled him. He wanted an eternity to make her laugh like that and to wake up each day with the prospect of being surrounded by happiness and joy.

  Jordan looked like he’d been punched in the gut. Or someone had told him they’d kicked his puppy. Emme touched his arm above the elbow and his muscles jumped under her fingers. Because of her? “Are you okay?”

  He gave a slight shake of his head. “Yeah.” He shifted to the side and her hand fell away. “Yeah. You hungry? We passed a cafe this morning during our run.”

  “Sure.”

  He gestured down the steps to the right and she led the way, waiting for him at the bottom. They followed the walkway from the hotel to the wide path that ran along the low wall separating the beach from the hotels and shops.

  Walking beside him in silence was awkward. They were close enough to touch, her arm kept brushing his, but it seemed like he’d put a physical distance between them.

  Several minutes passed. Looked like she was going to have to start the conversation. “How long were you in the Army?”

  “Still am. I commissioned right out of college.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Are you Reserve?”

  “No. Active.”

  “I thought you were with Titan.”

  “Nope.”

  Can I get a three-syllable word, Pat? She stopped. “How does that work?”

  He turned back and slipped his hands into the pockets of his khakis, pulling them further down on his hips. “Didn’t I explain that?”

  “You said Dad hired Titan. I assumed he hired Titan because of you.”

  “Ah, no. It was the other way around. Your mom wanted someone on the mission that you had some familiarity with. I don’t think she wanted you here by yourself or with a complete stranger. So your dad pulled some strings and got me put on special orders.”

  Her mouth quirked. “Of course he did.”

  He stepped closer and she swore she could feel the heat from his broad chest.

  “They love you, Emme. They just wanted you safe and taken care of.”

  “I’m not upset,” she assured him. “Knowing Dad would do everything in his power to get me, kept me going.”

  His assessing gaze roved over her face. “Okay.”

  “Okay. Food?” He nodded and they continued down the path. “Why the Army?”

  “Your dad,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “You and Doug always groaned whenever he told his old war stories”

  “That’s because we’d heard them a bazillion times.”

  He smiled. “I soaked them up. Whenever Doug and I played soldiers, I always wanted to be your dad. He gave me my recommendation for ROTC.”

  “Really? I had no idea.” Of course, she’d barely been a teenager when he and Doug went off to college. There’d been no reason for her to know. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a Ranger.” He pointed to a small restaurant a few yards off the path, a dozen or so umbrella covered tables out front.

  “Of course you are.”

  A young Filipino woman greeted them at the door. “Welcome. Two?”

  “Yes. Can we sit outside?” Jordan asked.

  The hostess nodded and gestured to the tables. They sat next to each other, facing the promenade and ocean, and took the menus.

  “Why did you say ‘of course you are’ like that?” Jordan asked.

  “If you hero worshipped Dad, it makes sense you followed in his footsteps.” Emme opened her menu. “Plus, there’s the whole invading a small African country and blowing it up.” She winked over the top of her menu. Her gaze dropped to his smile, now surrounded by reddish-blond scruff.

  “It was a wall, not an entire country.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Fine. Two walls.”

  The waiter arrived at the table and she asked for sparkling water. “Do you know what you want?” she asked when the waiter left.

  “What on here is meat?”

  She hid her smile behind her menu. “Haven’t you been to the Middle East before?”

  “Yes, but that did actually involve invading and blowing up countries, not sitting down at restaurants.”

  “Trust me?” she asked.

  He stared at her for a heartbeat, the closed his menu and put it on the table. “Go for it.”

  She smiled and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her breath caught and her pulse picked up. Was he as aware of her as she was of him? She licked her lips and his gaze flew back to hers. His green eyes were intense and held a heat she felt in her core.

  The waiter set their glasses down on the table and broke the spell. She felt flushed and was tempted to use the menu as a fan.

  “Madame?” The waiter asked.

  “I’m sorry?” What was the question?

  “You were going to order,” Jordan reminded her.

  “Oh, right.” She glanced at him again, but couldn’t hold his gaze — it was still too intense. “The shish kabob, tabouleh, and hummus, please.”

  The waiter bowed and took the menus. Emme sipped the cool water, taking a moment to slow her heart beat. “Where are you stationed?”

  “North Carolina.”

  “Do you like the Army?”

  He didn’t answer right away. “It was all I ever wanted to do.”

  Emme set her glass on the table. “You said ‘was’.”

  Jordan ran both his hands over his head. “What I wanted was a lot more clear when I was younger.”

  “And now?”

  “Now it’s about the men and women in my unit. Making sure they have a leader they can trust and look to when the shit hits the fan.”

  She nodded. Her dad had said pretty much the same thing. It wasn’t about the Army or the mission. It had been about the people in his unit — the people he’d commanded.

  “What about you?” Jordan asked. “What made you decide on nursing?”

  She took a sip of her water. “My junior year of high school, I volunteered at a hospital in the pediatric ward. It struck me that the vast majority of the caregivers were nurses. The doctors would roll in on rounds, but the nurses did everything. Got to know the families and the kids. Could recite every fact about their patients. Then I met one who was a nurse practitioner. She could do everything a family doctor could do, but she still got to spend time with her patients.”

  She shrugged and took a sip of water. “I decided that was what I wanted to do.”

  “You like it,” Jordan said.

  She smiled. “I love being a nurse.” It was the one thing in her life she’d always been sure of.

  “And Mali. What made you go there?”

  “One of my professors had spent a year in Thailand. She said it was one of the most rewarding experiences of her career.” She shrugged. “The opportunity came up and
I took it.”

  He fiddle with this straw. “Was it? Rewarding?”

  “Yes. It was also incredibly frustrating.”

  “Why?”

  How to explain in a way he’d understand? “It was hard not to inject my western ideals and morals into their culture. To understand that I was only there for a short time and no matter how much I wanted to change things, it didn’t mean what I wanted for them was better.”

  “What kind of things did you want to change?”

  She sighed. “To keep girls in school longer. To teach them a skill to support themselves so they wouldn’t have to marry at such a young age. Practice birth control so even if they did have to marry, they wouldn’t get pregnant.” She shook her head. “Frustrating.”

  “And the rewarding part?”

  “When a girl finishes school and gets accepted to university. The pride I could see in them.”

  “Are you going to go back?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Why probably?”

  “Well, for one, I don’t want to go back overseas and put Mom and Dad through worrying about me again. Plus, that seems like a huge slap in the face to you and the guys from Titan. And two, I haven’t had time to figure out what I’m going to do. I didn’t even have shoes until an hour ago.”

  She squirmed in her seat. God, when he smiled…everything in her twisted and flipped like an Olympic gymnast.

  Their food arrived and Jordan poked at the square chunks of grilled lamb on his plate. “What is it?”

  “It’s meat. Put it in your mouth.”

  He coughed and choked on the piece he’d taken. “Jesus, Emme.” He took a drink of water. “Warn a guy.”

  She grinned and scooped tabouleh onto a piece of flat bread. “What about you? What happens for you when we get back to the real world?”

  “I catch up with my unit.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Horn of Africa,” he said. “This is really good. What is it?”

  “Shish.” He was deploying in two weeks. She knew enough about world events to know the Horn of Africa was dangerous. It wasn’t Iraq, but it wasn’t exactly a garden spot either.

  “Emme.”

  Her gaze flew to his. “You’re deploying?” Her voice sounded shrill and she cringed inwardly.

 

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