Not Another Soldier

by Holt, Samantha

  He chuckles. “Let’s just say I learned my lesson after Liberty.”

  I nod sympathetically but really my insides are curling with jealously and anger. Liberty left Nick after he came back with his injury. Never even bothered visiting him in the hospital. I didn’t see her again, but I heard she’d said she wouldn’t date a cripple. Honestly if I ever ran into her, I think I’d want to punch her straight in her perfect mouth. And I am not an aggressive person. How could she leave a man like Nick at a time when he needed her most?

  “Yeah, well if she bolted when times got tough, then she definitely wasn’t worth having,” I say.

  “Unlike you?”

  I snort. “Maybe I should have bolted sooner. I can’t help wonder why I tried so hard when it was obvious our marriage could never be fixed.”

  “Hey, don’t be angry with yourself for trying. Most people don’t.” He grips my hand, squeezes and sighs. “If I ever get married, she’ll be nothing like Liberty. She’ll be someone who doesn’t give up at the first sign of trouble.” His blue eyes grow soft. “She’ll look incredible with messy hair and scruffy jeans.” He runs his fingers over mine. “She’ll be selfless, working all hours to look after others.”

  Okay is he talking about me? Fuck, I can barely breathe as that gaze bores into me. And I can’t even glance away.

  “She’ll be an amazing mother.”

  God, does he do it on purpose? He sure knows how to hit my weak spots. I sway slightly forward as if he’s sucking me in with his words.

  The buzzer sounds and I jump up. I practically race to the door to let in the delivery guy, my pulse throbbing. Thank God for the interruption. Who knows what might have happened otherwise?

  Chapter Three

  Sienna

  Arms clutching my sides, I step out of the hospital and squint in the dusky light of the morning. I scrape a hand through my messy ponytail and smother a yawn.

  Tonight has been one of the hardest nights I’ve had in a long time. We had one guy crash on us and it was a mess. Normally working at the stroke center, things are relatively quiet. We’re still busy—really busy—but you don’t have the drama that most people expect in hospitals. A lot of the patients end up staying with us for months as they recuperate or sadly deteriorate, and most are elderly. Though we had a young guy in recently. Early twenties. It was heartbreaking. Drug abuse apparently. And you just know his life will never be the same again. He could barely talk, barely move.

  Drugs and alcohol. I shake my head as I follow the path around the side of the hospital to the staff parking lot. I don’t even know if Rob did drugs—it seems likely, but the soldiers were randomly drug tested so maybe he was smart enough not to risk it. But I understand well the cost of alcohol. It was when he was at his worse.

  I pause at the edge of the building and rummage through my handbag for my car keys. I seem to have everything but my keys in there. Scowling, I step under the street lamp for a better view.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a figure emerge from the shadows. It’s only seven a.m. so it’s still gloomy I lift my head and my pulse immediately skips. The guy is looking straight at me as he walks casually over. I swing my gaze around but it makes no difference. We’re alone. Trying to conceal my apprehension, I draw my shoulders back.

  He’s a skinhead, tough looking. The kind of man that says ‘trouble’ as soon as you look at him. Even though it’s early morning, it’s not cold so he wears a T-shirt. Tattoos cover his arms. And not nice ones. These aren’t artistic and beautiful. These are a collection of pieces gathered over time and most speak of a youth misspent. Half of them appear scrawled on.

  “Mrs. Wright?”

  Well if I wasn’t scared enough before, I am now. How does he know my last name?

  “C-can I help you?”

  He comes close and the street lamp brings out the stark dips in his cheeks. He looks like he could do with a good meal, but I guess that he probably chooses drugs over food.

  “Yeah, you can.” Though he grins, I see the malicious intent behind his expression.

  Before I can turn away, he snatches my arm, fingers pinching painfully into my flesh. I let out a squeal and tug, but he holds me firm. My mind races. There’s security cams around the hospital but it’s pretty dark. I doubt they’ll see much. And I’m all alone. This will teach me for parking in the rear lot.

  “Take me to your car,” he hisses.

  I scowl. Is he trying to steal it? Why does he need me to take him to it? I swallow and make a split decision. Kicking back, I strike him on the inside of his thigh. I was hoping to hit him in the balls but it startles him enough so that his grip loosens.

  I yank away and start running. My car is closer than the hospital entrance but I still don’t have my keys. I delve my hand into my bag as I run, hearing footsteps gain on me. As I glance up, I’m aware of a figure in front of me and I scream but it’s too late. I barrel into a solid chest and arms wrap about me.

  “Sienna?”

  The air whooshes from my lungs and I sag with a half-whimper, half-sob. My hands tremble as I motion behind me and try and say something coherent.

  “A man… following me… grabbed me…”

  Nick shoves me back, holding my arms and peers around me. I don’t know if the guy is still there but it doesn’t matter. Nick is here.

  He darts his gaze over me, then snatches my bag. Instantly he finds my keys and unlocks the car. “Get in,” he orders, “and lock the door.”

  Still trembling, I nod and climb in, wrapping my arms about myself. I lock the doors and watch Nick’s back as he walks confidently across the parking lot. I squint out the windows but I see no sign of Skinhead. The thought that maybe he was waiting for Nick to leave strikes me and I flick my gaze from side to side, just waiting for him to jump out on me.

  My teeth chatter as I wait. I pray for Nick to return. When Skinhead doesn’t show up, I begin to wonder if he did something to Nick. What if he’s hurt him? What do I do? Do I stay in the car forever or get out and look for him? What if he’s bleeding to death?

  “Oh, thank God.” I sag against my seat as Nick emerges from round the corner, the golden glow of the streetlight briefly revealing his intimidating expression. I can only assume Skinhead took off. I would if I was up against that.

  He opens the driver’s side. “Scoot over.”

  I do as I’m told, the fear having sapped any inclination to argue. I’m just glad he’s here.

  “I didn’t find anyone,” he tells me. “But I let the front desk know someone was lurking around. They’re going to have security do a patrol.” He looks at me and scowls. “Fuck, you’re shaking.”

  Nodding, I make some weird noise of agreement and he pulls me into his arms. The car seats and everything get in the way and dig into my ribs but I don’t care. The warmth of his chest against my cheek instantly slows my heartbeat. I have to force myself not to bury my nose in his T-shirt.

  After several moments, my trembling ceases and he retreats, concern stamped on his face. He keeps his hands on my shoulders, and they are so strong and secure. I shouldn’t like it but I do. It’s that sense of being protected again. I hate being so weak. Because that’s what it means right? You like being protected because you’re weak.

  “What happened?”

  “T-this guy, tall, skinhead, approached me. He knew my last name—well my married name— and he said he wanted to see my car, and he snatched my arm. I kicked him and then ran away… into you.”

  Admiration seeps into his expression. “You kicked him?”

  I shrug. “I meant to kick him in the balls but I missed.”

  Nick releases a sharp laugh and I feel my lips twitch.

  “Remind me never to sneak up on you,” he says, then takes a moment to study me. “You want me to drive you home?”

  I pull my hands out from where they’re tucked into my sides and watch them. They still shake a little so I nod. “Yeah, please.”

  He reaches o
ver to strap me in. Why does he do that? It always wraps me in his scent and the proximity of him drives me crazy. But I still love it when he does.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” I ask as he straps himself in and starts the car.

  “Thought I’d take you out for breakfast before I started work.”

  “How did you know I was working?”

  “You said you were doing nights last week and I saw something on Facebook.”

  I try to laugh but I’m not feeling easily amused. “You’re stalking me on Facebook now?”

  And now the words are out, they don’t seem funny at all after what happened. Did Skinhead just want to take the car? I can’t help imagining he wanted something more. Like to kidnap me or something. If Skinhead had wanted my car, surely it would have been easier to break into it? Had he been waiting for me all night? Or was he just an opportunist? The thought of him hanging around, watching, makes me cold all over again.

  “Hey, I just happened to see your friend’s comment and I wanted to see how you were doing with the apartment. You know, if you don’t want people knowing your business you shouldn’t be putting it on Facebook.”

  Nick sounds slightly pissed off and I dart a surprised look at him. It’s not like him to get annoyed with me, though I guess I can’t blame him. He comes to treat me to breakfast and winds up chasing away an attacker. And then I get snippy with him.

  “Sorry. I’m glad you’re here. And… and I’d love to get some breakfast. Just not today, if you don’t mind. Another morning?” I try tentatively.

  His expression relaxes back into the Nick I know. “Sure. Later on this week?”

  “Sounds good.” I settle against the car seat and gaze out the window as he navigates the still quiet streets toward my apartment. I don’t know why I agreed to that but I do want to try to stay friends with Nick. I hardly know anyone in Glenwood apart from my work colleagues and most of them live on the outskirts or within commuting distance. I’ve barely spoken to Jess since the funeral. Nick is all I have.

  But that scares me too. I can’t rely on one person, especially Nick. What happens when he’s fit enough to go away again? It would be almost as bad as being married to a soldier. And this time, I’d actually miss him. Not to mention the issue of wanting to jump on him and kiss him, and maybe strip off his clothes every time I see him. That hardly bodes well for our friendship.

  He’s like an addiction, I think. A weakness in me. I don’t want him but I need him.

  When he pulls the car up in front of the apartment building, I’m exhausted. All the adrenaline has left me and I can barely keep from yawning every two seconds.

  “Come on, sleepy head.” He pops my seatbelt and climbs out. I push open the door but he’s there already, yanking it open for me.

  I climb the stairs wearily to the front door and Nick shadows my steps, acting a little like a human shield. I don’t know if he even believes I was attacked, but he seems to be taking protecting me pretty seriously. I’m beginning to think it was just a one off. I happened to run into a psycho. Typical.

  Jabbing the entry pad, I push it open and Nick follows me up.

  “You don’t have to escort me all the way home, you know,” I mumble.

  “Sienna, I’m not leaving you until you’re safely home. Just accept it and shut up.”

  He says this softly so it doesn’t sting but I do feel ungrateful. My fingers are numb, maybe from shock, so I fumble to open the front door.

  “You want a coffee? Breakfast?” Nick asks as he closes the door gently behind him.

  I scowl, knowing I should be the one offering him breakfast not the other way around. I’m really going to have to make this all up to him. Another time though.

  “I was going to go to bed.”

  I realize I’m being rude, but I’m tired and edgy. I keeping wondering what would have happened if Nick hadn’t turned up. And then I glance into Nick’s eyes and they’re dark and simmering with something indescribable.

  Bed.

  The word lingers in the air and I wish I’d never said it because now the word is echoing in my head and the idea of a bed and Nick can’t seem to compute in my mind. It’s like my body suddenly explodes with unbridled desire and the synapses in my head are firing off. I’m overloaded with erotic images, with the memory of Nick’s hard body under my cheek, and all I can think is how much I want that solid body pressed against mine.

  In bed.

  And I know he’s thinking it too. I can see it in his blue eyes. He takes a moment to shrug off his light jacket. I guess it was cold when he first stepped out. He takes his time, as if there’s no hurry. As if I won’t burst into flames if I don’t touch him. His gaze remains on mine as he hooks it over the coat rack. I frown at the domestic sight of our coats hanging together, an image of a future I’ll never have.

  I suck in a deep breath as he releases his jacket and turns completely toward me. Today he wears a tight old grey T-shirt, the lettering on it faded, and scruffy jeans. The denim is worn around the crotch… My cheeks flame. What am I doing studying there?

  I’m not sure who takes the first step but both of us move forward. I feel as though I’m pushing through water or cold treacle just to get to him. And then he’s there, all hard muscles and rough fingers.

  Those fingers are in my hair, pulling my head back so he can kiss me. His lips meet mine. There’s no pretense to this kiss. It’s hard and demanding. His teeth bump into my lip and I whimper. I’ve never been a whimperer but Nick’s kisses make me want to keen and beg for more. My hands snake up around his neck, my nails dig into his skin. His tongue presses between my lips and I taste coffee and heat, and I can’t get enough. We deepen the kiss, clamor against each other.

  Something has snapped inside me and I can’t hold it back. The point of no return. He presses me against the wall and the thick length of him rubs against my tender flesh, sparking an acute ache between my legs.

  “Christ, Sienna,” he groans as he tears his mouth from mine to graze his lips across my cheek.

  Rough hands creep under the waistband of my scrubs, skimming my hip to cup my ass. He sneaks his fingers under my panties and I moan at the feel of warm masculine skin against my rear. Nick gives my ass a squeeze, then drags his fingers back out and down to hook under my knee. Angling my leg and lifting it, he holds it to his hip. I’m open and vulnerable and he rocks into me, sends sparks of pleasure through me. I quake and murmur his name while he nips at my neck.

  Nails digging into his flesh, I tunnel my other hand through his blond hair, keeping him clamped to me. A chasm opens up in me, one that can only be filled by Nick. I’m not sure if it’s an emotional or physical need but I can’t get enough of him. For so long, I’ve been ignoring the attraction burning between us. At the same time as the tension of avoiding our chemistry leaves, a new tension builds and I arch desperately into him.

  Both hands cup my ass now, and lift me so I’m snug against him. His erection presses into me and his mouth finds mine again. It’s a rough kiss, our teeth clash, both of us unable to control ourselves enough to retreat. His tongue twines forcefully with mine and a growl comes deep from within him.

  My arms are wrapped around his neck when he pulls away from the wall and carries me to the bedroom. We both breathe heavily as he slides my legs down. I wobble slightly when I find my feet and the slight distance it creates begins to clear my mind. But before the haze of desire dissipates completely, he cups my chin and plunders my mouth again.

  I grip his muscled arms and hang on for dear life. Part of me can’t believe I’m kissing Nick while the other part tells me it was inevitable. How could anyone resist a man so sexy, so amazing?

  Nick fumbles with the tie on my scrubs. The crinkle of fabric echoes in my ears as he draws my pants hastily down. He releases my mouth to tug my top from me and shifts back enough to stare.

  I don’t know what I see in his eyes, but I like it. I drop my head slightly as heat spreads across my chest. H
e takes the time to run his gaze over my silky underwear. Thank God I wore a matching set. I toe off my plain work shoes and quickly yank away my socks, feeling ridiculous in them.

  Where I throw them, I’m not sure because I can’t drag my gaze away from him. He takes a moment to caress my breasts, drawing his hand down the curve of my waist to my hips.

  “Fuck, Sienna, you are too damned beautiful.” He tugs me into him, roughly draws my ponytail out, and buries his head in my hair. “You have no idea how often I’ve thought of you like this but, I swear to God, I didn’t know…” He kisses my ear, sucks on my earlobe making me shudder. “I didn’t know you’d be this incredible.”

  And while I love his words and the look in his eyes, I need to speed up again. I need to feel his skin under my fingers. To know if that body is really amazing as I imagined. Oh yeah, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve spent far too long thinking about what Nick would look like naked.

  As if reading my mind, he tugs at the bottom of his T-shirt and drags it over his head. His hair ends up rumpled and he does that thing where he stares at me from under his brow again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was feeling self-conscious.

  Sucking in a breath, I reach out and touch his abdomen, trace the lines of his stomach. My mouth dries and I breathe the word, “Shit…”

  Powerful, strong, beautiful… the planes of his muscles stretch out in front of me. His skin is so hot and smooth. Inky swirls paint his right arm and one shoulder, and another, newer tattoo—a Celtic band I think—circles his other arm. I trace the band with my finger and close the gap between us. I just have to taste him. Mouth open, I lean over and kiss his chest, allowing my tongue to dart out. The tang of salt teases my taste buds and I follow the line of his pec until I reach one nipple. I flick my tongue briefly over it and he groans, fingers coming up into my hair.

  My hands land on the waistband of his jeans and I scrabble to undo the button and find the zip. Just like my scrubs, the sound of the zip rasping plays in my ears—a stark reminder of what is about to happen.