In Love and War

by Tara Mills

  She walked him to the door. Opening it before she could, he turned and asked, “When?”

  “When what?” She watched his eyes move as he took an unabashed tour of her face.

  “When can I take you out?”

  The birds in her stomach were back, fluttering away. Good thing they were keeping the noise down. “Whenever?”

  Dylan gave her a meaningful look, full of promise. “Expect a call.”

  Ariela closed the door behind him and fell against it. If she hadn’t locked her knees, she would have been a puddle of melting woman on the floor. As Dylan’s footfalls faded out and the back door shut, she pressed a hand to her excited heart. Something told Ariela that she was in for a wild ride with this one. Hell, just sitting in a quiet room with Dylan was exhilarating. Now she knew it wasn’t just the concussion. There was far more at play here. Scary.

  She was about to find out whether Dylan’s hands were capable and steady on the wheel, because he was already in her driver’s seat. She knew it, and judging by the look he gave her on the way out, he knew it too. Suddenly the Beatles were singing Drive My Car in her head.

  Ariela pulled herself up and wobbled on shaky legs into the kitchen for a cold drink of water with loads of ice.

  Chapter 3

  Ariela was startled awake by the ringing telephone at her bedside. She peered blearily out from behind heavy lashes and read the clock. Six-thirty? The phone had beaten her alarm by thirty minutes.

  Her hand landed heavily on the receiver, and she yawned through a deep, “Hello?”

  “Did I wake you?”

  A man’s voice?

  Confused, Ariela gave a cautious, “Yeah…who is this?”

  She heard soft chuckling on the other end. “It’s Dylan. Dylan Bond.”

  “Dylan? Is there something wrong with you? Why would you call anyone this early? What were you thinking? And FYI, I never get up before seven.” He might be hot, but she needed to establish some ground rules with the guy.

  “What? I called to see if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight.”

  Now she was completely lost. Tonight? “What time is it?”

  “It’s six-thirty—p.m.—Friday night. Are you hungry?”

  She pulled herself up and smoothed back her messy hair. “Six-thirty in the evening? Really? Wow.” She tried to get her head around that information.

  “Maybe I should just let you sleep.”

  His suggestion zapped a hit of adrenaline into her sluggish bloodstream. “No!” Calming herself, she went on. “I mean, I’ve been sleeping for hours, but I haven’t eaten since breakfast, so yes, I’d love dinner.”

  “How much time do you need?”

  Her shrug was automatic. “Thirty minutes?”

  “Done. I’ll be waiting outside.”

  She stifled another yawn. “Use the alley. I’ll be coming out the back.”

  “Got it. See you soon, Ariela.”

  She hung up and swung her legs out from under the covers. Walking like a stiff zombie over to the window, she raised the blinds.

  “Oh my god,” she gasped as brilliant light pierced the room, making her squint in pain. She let go of the cord as if it had stung her, and the blinds dropped back into place, shutting out the searing sunshine. It was too soon for that.

  There was a note from Jean stuck to the television. She didn’t expect to be home until late, which meant she probably wouldn’t be home at all. Jean’s notes usually implied a sleepover at Ron’s. Better his place than theirs.

  Ariela walked out of the bathroom dressed and primped with four minutes to spare. Standing at her dresser, she picked up her favorite scent and gave her wrists a dab. At the sound of a car pulling up outside, she turned and set the bottle down. She pulled back the edge of the blinds and saw a strange Saab in Jean’s parking space.

  “Here we go,” she said, none too confidently, and grabbed her purse.

  The sunshine blinded her when she went outside. She had to shade her eyes to safely navigate the short flight of steps. Once she touched down on the path of pavers she chanced another look at the cars and was startled to see Dylan staring at her as he climbed out of his car. Looking down at her creamy linen pantsuit and butterscotch camisole, she understood why. She was bright enough to burn his retinas.

  They met up at his front bumper and he escorted her to the passenger side, opening the door for her. Before she could duck into the car, he held up his hand, stopping her for a moment while he looked her up and down more personally. His bold approval made her quiver.

  “You’re breathtaking, luminous,” he told her.

  Stunned and speechless, she sank onto the passenger seat, and with a smile, he closed her in.

  Joining her in the car, Dylan caught Ariela eyeing him with equally frank interest.

  He swiveled his body in his seat, giving her a better view. “Do I meet with your approval?”

  Laughing, Ariela took him in, from his dark blue, button-down shirt and plain, black jeans to his simple, dark Nike's. “You’ll do.” She imagined it was probably her warm tone, more than her words that pleased him.

  “Good.” Dylan fired up the engine and winked as he threw his arm behind her seat to back out. “I cleaned my car for you too,” he added, looking over his shoulder.

  Flattered and amused, Ariela laughed again. “Be still, my heart.”

  “I thought you were worth it.”

  “And you’re admitting this to me?”

  He shifted into drive and snickered. “I wanted to make a good impression.”

  She was on to him. “How’s your house?”

  “You won’t be seeing that tonight.”

  Laughing, Ariela ignored the passing scenery. Her date’s handsome profile was far more appealing. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

  “Ah.” Dylan nodded as he signaled his turn. “I meant to give you more time to recuperate, but then I got a call and found out I’m heading out of town early Monday. I didn’t want to put off seeing you again since I’m not sure when I’ll get back.”

  “Where are you going this time?”

  “Back to Iraq.”

  Ariela’s blood cooled. “I thought you were doing domestic stories now.”

  “Primarily, but this is intertwined. There’s a small group of senators going over next week and I need to be on the ground before they arrive.”

  “Does that make you nervous—going back?” She was nervous for the guy and she didn't even know him!

  In her mind she saw her parents again, as clear now as that day sixteen years ago. Her mom had been wearing her ruffled, pink robe. Right behind her stood Ariela's dad, looking so handsome in his uniform. He’d been pressed against her, nose buried in her hair as she rinsed out a coffee cup in the sink, while Ariela ate her breakfast at the table behind them. Her father’s arms had wound around her mother’s waist, and they’d swayed side to side to a silent tune. Ariela remembered how she’d smiled when he nuzzled her mother’s neck and started her laughing. Her parents had been playful and completely in love. Like an otter, Ariela had swum in the overflow of that love, amazingly content.

  “Gotta go,” was the last thing her father said as he bent to kiss her on the top of the head.

  Dylan’s voice pulled Ariela back to the present.

  “Not really. Besides, nearly everything we do involves some risk—even driving to the restaurant tonight.”

  “I suppose, but you’re going back to a war zone. Doesn’t that make you a bit anxious?”

  He smiled. “No. It’s not something you want to get overly confident about, but if you use your head, you’ll be ahead of the game. Experience minimizes the risks. There’s less chance you’ll blunder into something if you know what you’re doing.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to go.”

  “Good thing you don’t have to.” He glanced over and flashed a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, this should be my last assignment over there. I’m not sorry about
it…though probably not for the reasons you might expect.”

  Ariela frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Basically, I was in lockdown for the last year because of how dangerous it got to venture out. We had to rely on trusted Iraqi stringers to do all our important legwork. It felt like I was under house arrest. When you can’t do your own investigating, it’s frustrating and the job isn’t as satisfying—pretty tough to feel like a journalist under restricted conditions.”

  Oddly enough, Ariela was glad he wasn’t going to cover the war anymore, whatever the reason. Still, she didn’t understand why his personal safety concerned her. He was a virtual stranger, yet it really bothered her to think of him in such an unstable and dangerous place.

  Dylan seemed to pick up on it. “Listen, I’ll be fine. I won’t even be outside the green zone this time around, so the risks are minimal.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “You’re going to think this sounds weird, but I don’t think I could handle being involved with someone who’s always heading into danger. The stress would be too much for me.”

  He grinned and his gorgeous baby blues were dancing when he asked, “Are you suggesting that if I can keep from getting my ass shot off you might consider falling for me?”

  Ariela laughed. “I’ve already fallen for you,” she said, making light of how they’d met.

  “Good, because I’d like to see more of you.”

  “I’d like that too, but you know my terms.”

  “Get my ass out of danger, and we’ll talk,” he said with a nod, then flipped on his turn signal and cut across the intersection.

  “That about covers it.”

  They pulled into a crammed parking lot and drove around and around, looking for an open space.

  “Let me drop you at the door, and I’ll find something,” Dylan said on the next pass.

  “I’d rather walk in with you.”

  He smiled at that. “Your call.”

  The space they eventually found should have come with shuttle service, but any further complaints were forgotten when Dylan’s hand settled comfortably on the small of Ariela’s back as she walked up the steps to the restaurant. That touch made her float the rest of the way.

  Ariela waited by a large palm while Dylan spoke with a host. He returned with a suggestion.

  “Since we hit it on the wrong night and the wrong time, this could take a while. How about waiting in the bar?”

  “Sounds good.”

  They cut through the crowd and lucked out when they passed another couple leaving. Ariela and Dylan claimed the vacant stools.

  A bartender stopped over and set out fresh coasters. “What can I get you?”

  Dylan looked at Ariela with raised eyebrows.

  “I’ll take a Seven-Up or Sprite—whichever you have.”

  “And I’d like a glass of your house pinot noir.”

  The bartender moved off to fill their order.

  Dylan snapped his fingers. “I forgot. You probably can’t have alcohol tonight, right?”

  “The doctor discouraged it.”

  “Are you still fuzzy on the details or can you remember things now?”

  “As far as I can tell, I’m fine.” When the guy looked at you, he really looked at you, but without being creepy about it. Interesting. It probably helped in his line of work.

  “You’re lucky it wasn’t more serious,” he said, bringing her out of her thoughts.

  She scoffed at the idea. “I don’t know. Athletes go right back into the game all the time after getting hit harder than I did.”

  “Most wear helmets and still have to be medically cleared first.”

  Good point. “I was checked out.” Closing the subject, she smiled sweetly at the bartender when he set her fizzing glass down in front of her.

  Dylan drew his wine toward him, not finished studying her. There was something in his expression she couldn’t quite read.

  Finally, he moved his glass aside and asked, “Can I touch you? Would you mind? I’ve wanted to check something out since I picked you up.”

  Touch her? What did he expect her to say, “Grope away?” Considering where they were, she felt relatively safe. Still.

  After a lengthy delay, she asked carefully, “Touch me where?”

  It was tough to say which was sexier, his chuckle or his grin. “Indulge me.” With that, his fingers slid under her hair and brushed her scalp. Their gazes locked. Her heartbeat accelerated as he located her bump and gently traced it. “That’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” He gave her a reassuring smile and withdrew his hand.

  Okay, that was strangely arousing.

  “You’re a little peculiar,” she told him, refreshingly pleased with this date.

  Clearly amused, he raised his glass. “Judging by your smile, I’d say that’s a good thing. Here’s to being in the right place at the right time this morning.”

  Those astonishing lapis blue eyes shimmered over the rim of his glass, beckoning her into dangerous depths as they tapped their stemware together.

  ***

  The surprises continued during dinner. At one point Dylan picked up the strawberry on the edge of his plate by the stem and sliced Ariela’s romantic heart wide open by offering it to her.

  A startling yet pleasant thought flowed through her mind. He could be the one—if only he had a less dangerous occupation. She gave him a melting look—she couldn’t help it.

  “Would you like it?” His smile coaxed her to accept. “I saw how much you enjoyed yours.”

  Oh yes, she was definitely in trouble here. Reaching out, she picked the berry from between his fingers and took a dainty bite while he watched. It felt naughty, full of implications.

  Stop it Ariela, you’re being ridiculous. It was just a damn strawberry!

  Except what was happening between them, while feeling deceptively casual, was intensely intimate. It was one of the strangest dates she’d ever been on, not that it had veered far from the norm. It hadn’t. It just felt different.

  Setting the stem aside, she dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Thank you.”

  This was one time she actually wanted a man to dominate the conversation. She repeatedly opened up subjects only to be drawn back in when Dylan asked questions in return. It was impossible not to feel disappointed because he was so fascinating, his experiences wildly different from hers. She pictured him as the metaphorical canteen of water in the desert, an oasis, a cool, gratifying plunge into experiences both foreign and elemental. She wanted to drink deep, get her fill, but he smoothly turned the discussion back around, leaving her thirst for more unquenched.

  For some inexplicable reason, he seemed to find her just as interesting. Imagine. They laughed like old friends, and sometimes her spontaneous trills of delight drew glances from other diners. Dylan wasn’t the least bit bothered by it either, earning even more points in his favor. He was as lost in the moment as she was.

  Picking up the thread of their earlier conversation before he could turn it back on her again, she asked, “And that’s why you haven’t settled down?”

  “Not since Greece. Neither of us was ready for a commitment, especially Maria." Dylan shook his head and chuckled to himself. "I was in and out of her life so often, when I got back from Rome the last time I found she’d given away most of my clothes to her various boyfriends. I was lucky to get away with a few pairs of underwear.”

  Ariela covered her mouth, laughing into her hand. His anecdotes were some of the best she’d ever heard. “How could you stand her?”

  “Well, she was gorgeous and uninhibited. That’s a sexy combination for any guy.”

  “I’ll bet,” she said dryly, studying this charmer across the table. “Do you have your passport on you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do—habit.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “Sure.” He reached back and pulled it out. It was warm and curved from being in his pocket.

  Ariela smothered another laugh
when she saw it and went to work pressing it flat before opening it. She scanned all the stamps with interest. “Where’s Tenerife?”

  “It’s an island off the northwest coast of Africa, part of the Canaries. Belongs to Spain. Very beautiful. You can climb the mountains and get lost in the clouds. Palm trees and miles of topless beaches.”

  “Topless beaches, hmm?” The corner of her mouth twitched when she glanced up at him before returning to the passport. “There on business?”

  “She asked knowingly,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “No, I was doing a little research on my own time.”

  “I suspected as much.” It was impossible to hold back her smile. “My mind is full of all kinds of possibilities.”

  Now he laughed outright and without apparent shame. “Au natural isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, I assure you. All it means is no matter what the age or physical condition of the bathers, anyone can go topless—and they do. So, for every opportunity to eyeball perky beauties, there’s an even better chance you’re going to find yourself experiencing a full-body shudder. Try and picture biting into the sourest lemon there is when you least expect it, and you’ll understand the reaction I’m talking about here.”

  “I never realized public nudity could be so risky,” she teased, returning the passport.

  “You have no idea.” He grinned and shifted to tuck it back into his pocket.

  “I’m having such a nice time tonight.”

  The lines around his smile deepened. “Me too. What do you say we head out, maybe take a walk?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Would you mind if we picked up Max first? He’d never forgive me if word got around that I went for a walk without him. He’s been known to hold a grudge.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.”

  Dylan rose and came around the table to pull out her chair as Ariela set her napkin beside her empty plate. It thrilled her to finally find a true gentleman. When his hands brushed her shoulders, it was a struggle to ignore the tingles running down her spine. Unbidden, the image of her parents, so in love, flashed in her head. She pushed it away. This was only a date. No matter how charming, Dylan Bond wasn't the man for her. She could never allow herself to fall for a guy who made a career out of traipsing into treacherous situations.