Rescued Heart (Titan World)

by Tarina Deaton

  She shrugged and rested the book on her chest. “I was just thinking I don’t know anything about what you’ve been doing for the last fifteen years, other than being in the Army.”

  “Hmm. Well, to answer your question, no. I’ve never been married.” He pulled her other foot onto his lap and started rubbing.

  “How come?”

  He sighed. “Never found the right girl at the right time. I came kind of close once, but it ended up not working out.”

  “Why?”

  His brows drew together. “You really want to know this?”

  She nodded. Yes. No. Hell, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t even know what made her start with this line of questioning other than wanting to know more about him. Why hadn’t she started with something simple like his favorite color?

  “It was about six or seven years ago. We’d been dating for almost two years. I’d been deployed a couple of times and we’d made it through without any real issues. Then I got selected for Ranger school. She said she didn’t want to be married to a guy that was never going to be home. She broke it off and moved out the next week.”

  “I’m sorry.” That was such a lie. If he’d gotten married, they might not be snuggled up on the couch the way they were. No matter how fleeting the moment might be, she wouldn’t have it.

  He shook his head. “Don’t be. I realized pretty quickly it was a good thing. I was…content when we were together. Happy even, I guess. But it didn’t destroy my world when she broke it off. If I’d really loved her, it should have affected me more. What about you? Why did you get divorced?”

  Her eyebrows when into her hairline. “You know I was married?”

  “Got your full bio from Titan, babe.”

  “Ah. Right.”

  He shook her foot. “So. Divorced?”

  It was her turn to sigh. “We dated for three years in college. It seemed like the natural progression of our relationship, but we weren’t prepared for the real-world. Student loans, jobs, bills, and everything else that went with it. Being adults was nothing like being college students. We grew up and became different people.”

  “So no horrible, made-for-reality-TV divorce?”

  “Nope. Looking back it kind of feels like we woke up one day, looked at each other, and said ‘let’s get divorced’.”

  “Do you keep in touch?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. The occasional Christmas card. He’s married with four kids, now.”

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  Smiling she said, “Sapphire blue. You?” He’d stolen her backup question.

  “OD green.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Olive drab green is no one’s favorite color.”

  “It is too. I remember you wore your dad’s old uniform shirt to school one time. It had the Ranger tab and jump wings on it. I was so jealous.”

  “I remember that. I was in my grunge phase. Pretty sure I wore that thing for a month straight. Favorite movie?”

  “I have to pick one?”

  “Okay, favorite genre.”

  “Suspense. You?”

  “Action.”

  “Really?”

  “What? Did you think I was going to say rom-com?”

  He shook his head and smiled. Her heart fluttered. “I don’t even know what that is. Why action?”

  She dropped her gaze and watched his hands on her feet. “When I was around ten, Mom left for a while. Every Friday, dad would take us to the video store to pick out a movie. Doug and I were supposed to take turns picking, but he always talked me into picking an action movie. It grew from that.”

  “Where’d your mom go?”

  “At the time, I thought she was on a trip with my aunt. Later on, I realized she and Dad had separated for while.”

  Jordan’s fingers stopped kneading and he squeezed her foot. “Really? I had no idea, Doug never said anything. What happened?”

  “I asked her about it when I went through my divorce. Why they separated and why she stayed.” She looked back at him. “Dad got orders to Fort Bragg. It was the third move in four years and she didn’t know if she could do it again. It didn’t help that Dad was leaving all the moving to her and doing what he always did. She said she needed to figure out if that was the life she wanted to live. If it was the life she wanted me and Doug to live. So she told Dad he needed to figure it out and she went to stay with my aunt.”

  “But she came back?” he asked.

  “Yeah. She realized that was what she’d signed on for. It helped that Dad apologized for expecting her to take care of everything.” She smiled. “I think having to deal with me and Doug by himself for a month was a big shock to his system.”

  “Could you do it?” His voice was low and intense.

  She felt breathless. “What?”

  His fingers tensed around her foot. “Live that life.”

  Her heart stopped. She stared into his eyes, trying to decipher his words. Was this—? Was he asking her if she wanted to live that life with him? “I grew up in that life. It was all I knew. I think that’s a small reason I took the NGO job. I wanted to go somewhere new. But now? Maybe—”

  A knock on the door interrupted her before she could finish — maybe for the right guy. He tilted his head back to look. “Did you order anything from down stairs?”

  “No,” she said.

  Moving her legs to the side of the couch, he stood, and kissed her before walking to the door and looking through the peephole. He opened the door a crack. “Yes?”

  “Jordan Grant?” a woman’s voice asked.

  Emme sat up on the couch so she could see over the back.

  “Yes.”

  “Is Emmeline France here as well?”

  “Who are you,” he demanded.

  “I should have introduced myself first. I’m Alicia Broadmore from the American Embassy. I have your and Ms. France’s passports.”

  Jordan opened the door farther and the woman entered the suite. She stopped just inside the door and waited for Jordan to close it.

  Emme stood and walked around the end of the couch. Dressed in a tan suit and low brown heels, she presented the epitome of professional woman.

  “Ms. France?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Alicia stepped forward, with her hand outstretched. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m glad to see you are, in fact, safe. We’ve seen the news that you were rescued, of course, but with no one having heard from you in person, there’s been speculation that the reports were false.”

  Emme shook her hand. “No, they’re true.”

  “I figured that when I was told the passport request came through Titan.”

  Jordan stood by Emme and rested his hand on her lower back. “You know Titan?”

  Alicia’s eyes flickered to Jordan’s hand. “Only by reputation.” She reached into her bag and pulled out two passports and a pen. “If you’ll sign the passports, I’ll be out of your hair.”

  She flipped open one of the passports before handing it to Jordan and handed the other one to Emme without opening it.

  “What about visa’s?” Emme asked, taking the passport.

  “They’ve already been stamped, showing you entered a week ago,” Alicia said.

  Emme raised her eyebrows and looked at Alicia, her question evident.

  Alicia smiled. “Titan has a lot of connections in Abu Dhabi.”

  “No kidding,” Emme said. Getting back-dated visa stamps was no little accomplishment. Even after everything, she didn’t know whether to be impressed or scared. Maybe impressively scared.

  She and Jordan signed the passports and handed the pen back to Alicia. Taking it she said, “Mr. Westin asked that you call him before you make flight arrangements to return to the U.S.” She handed Emme a business card. “Feel free to call if you need anything in the interim.”

  She took the offered card. “Thank you.”

  Alicia hesitated a moment, then stepped forward and h
ugged Emme. “I’m very glad to know you’re safe.”

  At a loss for words, Emme stood there while Alicia released her. “Uh. Thank you?”

  “Sorry. I probably should have asked first.” She rubbed Emme’s arm awkwardly. “Well, I’ll leave you alone. Enjoy the rest of your stay in Abu Dhabi.”

  She let herself out of the suite and Jordan made sure the door was closed.

  Emme stared down at her new passport. “Do we have to stay here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Her stomach fluttered, unsure whether she should ask the next question. “Can we leave Abu Dhabi?”

  He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and hunched his shoulders. “You mean go back to the States?”

  “No, not yet.” She looked at her passport briefly. “Can we go somewhere else? There’s not a lot to do here other than the souq and the Grand Mosque and we’ve already done that.”

  “Where were you thinking?”

  “Rome?” She shrugged. “I’ve never been and I’ve always wanted to see Saint Peter’s and the Vatican.”

  “Let me clear it with Jared, but I don’t think he’ll have an issue with it.” He smiled. “Roman holiday, huh?”

  She grinned. “Yeah.”

  “Give me two days, we’ve got something in the works,” Jared said.

  Jordan looked over to where Emme sat on the corner of the couch, watching him over the back. “Sounds good.”

  “Parker’ll email you the itinerary later today. It’ll take you back to the U.S., with a stop over in Rome.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem.” His voice became muffled as he said something to someone off the line. “Watch the news tonight.” The phone disconnected.

  Jordan tossed the phone on the table next to the couch and sat close to Emme.

  “What did he say?”

  “He said give him a couple of days to make the reservations. Parker’ll send us the reservation information.”

  Joy lit up her face. All the air left his lungs like she’d sucker punched him and he swore his heart stopped. Her resiliency amazed him. The smallest things made her happy. When was the last time he’d found pleasure in the small things?

  “What?” Her eyebrows pinched together.

  “Come here.” He pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him.

  Her hands went to his shoulders. “We need to make hotel reservations.”

  “I’ve got a buddy that was stationed in northern Italy — I’ll shoot him an email and see if he has any recommendations.” He found the hem of her shirt and pushed his hands underneath, running his palms up the smooth skin of her back.

  “Fatima’s going to be here soon.”

  That wasn’t why he pulled her onto his lap — he just wanted her close — but now she’d put the idea in his head. “Are you saying you don’t have time to have your way with me?”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and he laughed.

  Her skin was smooth against his palms. He was an addict getting his fix. Only his drug was Emme. Her skin. Her smile. He wanted to wrap her in his arms. Protect her, keep her safe and happy, and never let her go.

  That reality didn’t exist. In a week he had to let her go and watch her walk away.

  What if he didn’t, though? What if there was a way to keep this thing between them going? See where it took them.

  The electronic whir of the door lock stopped him from voicing the ideas playing havoc in his mind. Emme scrambled off his lap and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Fatima entered the suite, calling out a greeting, and Emme shot up from the couch like someone had lit a fire under her gorgeous butt. He smirked, not giving one fuck about anyone seeing them together.

  Scooting forward, he flipped the laptop open, and logged onto his Army webmail. An email from Parker topped the list of his inbox. Clicking on the attachment, he opened their itinerary. They’d been booked on an early morning flight the day after tomorrow. The body of Parker’s email simply said: Here you go. Watch the 1800 BBC news broadcast.

  He looked at his watch. Emme could decide whether they’d order in or go out after the news.

  The next email was from his sergeant with a watered down update. All the secret and operational information had been stripped out, but he could read between the lines. They were busy and going out almost every night. His sergeant thought the new lieutenant was an asshat and wanted to know when Jordan would be getting there.

  He dropped his head in his hands. For the first time in his career, he hated his job. Not just questioned his purpose and mission, but hated that the Army was pulling him away from something he wanted. Maybe that was the problem. Everything he’d ever wanted had been provided by the Army. He’d never wanted something as much as he wanted Emme.

  But he had a mission. Orders to follow. An oath to uphold and men and women counting on him. He couldn’t ignore all that. Not even for her.

  The bedroom door opened and he closed the laptop without responding to the email. He’d take care of it later.

  The ladies stopped next to the couch and he stood.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Major Grant.” Fatima laid her hand over her heart and bowed her head briefly. “Dr. Tuska informed me you and Ms. France are departing soon.”

  “Yes. The day after tomorrow.”

  “Then I wish you both a safe journey home.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Emme walked Fatima to the door where they hugged. She came back to the couch after closing the door behind Fatima. “Is everything alright?”

  He sat and pulled her down next to him. “Yeah. Why?”

  “You looked stressed when we came out of the room.”

  “Got an email from my sergeant. The new L.T. Is making his life hell.”

  “Isn’t that what lieutenants are supposed to do?”

  He smirked. “Yeah.”

  Her eyes searched his face. “Anything else?”

  He shook his head. No need to unload on her. She was dealing with her own issues. “Parker said to watch the news on BBC at six tonight. You want to order room service or go out after?”

  “We can eat downstairs. Any idea why he wants us to watch?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Jared said he had something in the works and to watch the news.” He pulled her across his lap so she straddled him again. “What were we doing before we were interrupted?”

  “Um.” She pursed her lips and lowered her gaze.

  “What?”

  She averted her gaze.

  He wiggled her hips. “Emme. What?”

  “I’m a little sore,” she whispered.

  He pulled his lips between his teeth, forcing down the urge to bang on his chest and roar. It might make him a Neanderthal, but he was oddly satisfied that he’d fucked her so well she was sore. He trailed the back of his fingers across the side of her neck and watched goose bumps form on her skin. “How about if we make out like horny teenagers?”

  Sliding her hands up his chest and around his neck, she leaned forward. “Hmm. Well, I was definitely a horny teenager,” she said against his lips.

  “Yeah?” The skin under the hem of her shirt was warm and smooth. His entire hand could span her back.

  She trailed her lips across his cheek. “I had the worst crush on you in middle school.”

  Shivers shot down his spine when she pulled his earlobe between her teeth. “Just middle school?” His voice sounded low, even to him. He palmed her breasts, rubbing her hard nipples through the material of her bra.

  A groan rumbled deep in her throat and her breath fanned across his cheek. Soft hands skimmed under his shirt. “Maybe high school too, but you weren’t around as much then.”

  Because he’d spent most summers avoiding her.

  The tips of her fingers traced up his abs to his chest, leaving her own trail of goose bumps in their wake. “All the girls at school were jealous that my older brother was your best friend. They all t
ried to find out when you’d be at my house so they could invite themselves over.”

  He nipped the edge of her jaw. “I always wondered why there were so many girls at your house.”

  “They wanted to be where I am right now.” She rolled her hips.

  He dropped one hand to her lower back and pulled her closer, thrusting up. Threading the fingers of his other hand into her hair at the base of her neck, he pulled her mouth to his.

  She opened for him, her lips soft and pliant. Her tongue met his and they dueled for control. Parry. Thrust. Taking and giving in equal measure.

  Her fingernails flicked his nipples and he groaned, pulling her down hard on his lap. She answered with her own groan and rocked against his rock hard shaft.

  He drew back from her mouth and sucked in a breath. “We should go for a walk.”

  Emme blinked a few times like she’d just woken. “Huh? Why?”

  “Because I want to bury my cock balls deep in you and you can’t right now,” he explained, thrusting his hips up again.

  “Oh.”

  That word almost did him in, spoken somewhere between a gasp and a sigh.

  She licked her lips,. “We could—”

  “No. I’d rather delay gratification and wait for later.”

  Rounding her back, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder. “Shit. Sorry.”

  He shrugged his shoulder, forcing her head up. Cradling her chin in his hand, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip, swollen from kissing. “Babe, quit apologizing. Being sexy as fuck is not something to be sorry about.”

  “I—” She looked shocked. Like no one had ever told her she was beautiful. Given the chance, he’d tell her every day.

  He dropped a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “It’s almost six anyway. Why don’t we order room service and we can continue this over dessert.”

  A perfectly arched eyebrow rose. “Dessert?”

  “Yeah. I think we’re going to need to put down a towel.” He smirked. “I have a huge sweet tooth.”

  Emme stared wide-eyed at the television, the stuffed grape leaf half way to her mouth. “Oh my god.”

  “What?” Jordan asked. He looked at the TV. A man was being put into a police car, his hands cuffed behind his back.

  Dropping her food on a plate, she grabbed the remote from the floor. “Does this have—?” She pressed a button and jerked the remote as if moving it would make the TV do what she wanted it to. She rewound to the beginning of the segment.