by Leslie Kelly
“That tequila is never getting opened,” he informed her, capturing her arm and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist as he stood. He strode over to the stereo system to turn on some holiday tunes. The Rat Pack crooned about a white Christmas while she tore the foil on the celebratory bottle, excitement already fizzing in her veins.
“We can get back to our game.” She found the glasses while he joined her in the kitchen. “Remember? We can take turns deciding what happens after the champagne toast under the Christmas tree?”
Dylan took the bottle from her, easing the cork free with a pop. His eyes held hers with the promise of pleasure as he poured two flutes full of golden bubbles.
“I’ll tell you what happens.” He put a glass in her hand and, taking his drink, he drew her back out to the living room near the tree decorated in red and gold. “We toast to starting over.”
The glow of the Christmas lights refracted off the cut crystal glasses, making the room glisten like a holiday wonderland. She couldn’t have staged it better if she’d planned the whole thing out. But then she was fast finding that real life was better than any show.
Dylan lifted his glass and smoothed her hair away from her face. “You first.”
Smiling, she considered what she wanted most for Christmas.
“We toast to living happily ever after.”
“Then we show each other how much we love each other.” His voice softened as he brushed his lips over hers.
“Then we say how much we love each other,” she added, feeling dizzy even before she had a sip of her drink.
She kissed him, the moment so perfect she couldn’t possibly come up with a better ending.
* * * * *
KAREN
FOLEY
IF ONLY IN MY DREAMS
For John, who makes all my dreams come true.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Excerpt
1
SNOWFLAKES FELL SOFTLY against his face, landing on his skin and melting into cool rivulets of water that trickled down his jaw. From somewhere came the sound of church bells, and he remembered that it was almost Christmas. He must be home, with his parents and his siblings, and the knowledge filled him with joy.
Then he remembered there was no snow in his hometown of Monterey. And the church bells were becoming louder, more strident. In fact, they no longer sounded like church bells at all, but just an incessant, intolerable pounding between his temples that was turning whatever gray matter he had left to mush. His body ached. Not the good kind of ache that you got from a hard, physical workout, but the bone-deep ache of illness. Every joint hurt. And he was so hot that he felt a little sick to his stomach. More than a little sick, actually.
He was going to puke.
With a groan, Aiden Cross rolled to his side and retched, but there was nothing in his stomach, and he collapsed onto his back, soaked in sweat and breathing hard. Suddenly, a cold, damp cloth was applied to his forehead, and then it stroked blessed relief along his neck and over his bare chest. He forced himself to open his eyes, wincing at the effort.
A woman bent over him, soothing his fevered skin with the cool cloth. She wore a light brown army T-shirt and a pair of camouflage pants. A stethoscope was draped around her neck, the ends dangling just above her breasts. Her short bob was dark and sleek, and she wore it tucked behind her ears—a style he knew well. How many times had he dreamed of pushing her hair back with his own fingers? He closed his eyes, certain that he must still be dreaming, or delirious with fever.
Lily Munroe, an army medic, had haunted his thoughts since he’d first met her at a joint operations center near the international airport in Entebbe, Uganda, more than six months earlier. But he’d never had such a realistic vision. He cracked his eyes open again, expecting to find himself alone, but she was still there.
When she saw him watching her, she leaned away and came back with a cup in her hand. Sliding an arm behind his shoulders, she lifted him with surprising strength and held the rim to his lips. Something cool and delicious slid past his cracked lips and down his parched throat, and he felt the sweet relief in every cell of his body.
“Here,” she coaxed, her voice no more than a whisper. “I want you to take these.” She uncurled her fingers to reveal several small, white tablets. “Do you think you can swallow them for me?”
Without waiting for his response, she pushed the pills past his lips and then followed with the cup, giving him no choice but to swallow the tablets.
“Good job.” She eased him down again and set the cup aside. “How are you feeling?”
“Like crap.” His voice came out as a hoarse croak.
She smiled, revealing a deep dimple in one cheek, but she kept her voice soft and low. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Chief Cross. Do you remember how you got here?”
Aiden peered past her at his surroundings. They were in a large army tent. He was lying on a cot, an IV drip in one arm and nothing but a sheet draped over his body. Mosquito netting surrounded him, pulled back at one side. The air was thick with heat and moisture, clinging to him like a heavy, sticky blanket. A nearby fan stirred the netting, but did little to relieve the discomfort. Someone had strung twinkling, colored lights across the ceiling of the tent, and a rope of green-and-red garland hung over the door.
It was December, although you’d never know it, given the steamy conditions. He remembered being in the jungle with his SEAL unit, tracking a vicious warlord responsible for cutting a swathe of violence through the region. He and his team had been in central Africa for nearly nine months, performing recon missions that lasted anywhere from two to four weeks.
On their most recent mission, they’d been traveling for three weeks when Aiden had begun feeling sick. It had started with chills and a headache, and then a fever. He’d pushed on, willing himself to outlast whatever virus had gotten into his system. But when his headache worsened and the joint and muscle aches began, he could no longer hide the fact that he was seriously ill. He had trouble walking. He was in such intense pain, he felt as if someone had taken a baseball bat to his entire body. The last thing he recalled was hiking through the bush, trying to keep up with his team, and then nothing.
“No,” he finally managed, frowning. “I don’t remember how I got here.”
The effort to recall past events made his head throb. As if she understood, Lily laid the cool cloth back over his temples. “It’s okay. Just sleep now. You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”
She made a movement to rise, and, without meaning to, Aiden put a restraining hand on her arm. She stilled, and her dark gaze dropped to where he held her. Despite the oppressive heat, her skin was cool beneath his fingers. He pulled his hand away, but she remained seated beside him.
“What’s wrong with me?” he asked. “Malaria?”
“No. Dengue fever.”
No wonder he felt like death. Known locally as breakbone fever, there was no vaccine, no preventative medicine for the mosquito-borne virus and no cure once you contracted it. You simply had to survive it. The most common symptoms were fever and excruciating joint pain.
“How long?”
She gave him a crooked smile, and her dimple made a reappearance. Aiden’s gut twisted in a way that had nothing to do with his illness. He still couldn’t believe she was here. He’d never expected to see her again. Despite his physical misery, something inside him leaped to life.
“If I didn’t know you, I’d assume you were asking how long you’ve been ill.” She paused, and gave him a meaningful look. “But I do know you, so I’m sure what you’re really asking is how long be
fore you can rejoin your team and return to the bush. Am I right?”
“Both,” he conceded.
His eyes were adjusting to the light, and whatever she had given him must have begun to kick in, because he could look at her without squinting and the pounding behind his eyes was receding to a dull throb. But now that he could focus, he could also see the shadows beneath her eyes and the signs of weariness in her body. Guilt stabbed through him, because he knew without being told that he was the cause of her exhaustion.
“Brad and the others brought you in six days ago.” She bent her head and studied her hands, and if she hadn’t been Lily Munroe, he’d think she was struggling to contain her emotions. But when she looked up, her expression was shuttered. “You were in pretty bad shape. It took your team three days to reach the base.”
The “base” she referred to was little more than a jungle camp—a remote outpost containing several dozen elite troops surrounded by razor wire and cameras. He knew exactly where he was, because he and his unit had helped to carve the camp out of the dense jungle nearly a year earlier. The enormity of what his team had accomplished in getting him to this base was staggering. The region was thick with jungle, and nearly inaccessible. Even dirt roads were scarce. That they’d managed to reach the outpost in just three days told him they’d traveled at top speed, without stopping to sleep.
“Where are they now?”
Lily gave him a tolerant look. “Where do you think? They weren’t about to leave until they were sure you’d pull through. They’re still here on base.”
Aiden groaned. He couldn’t believe they’d put the mission on hold in order to drag his sorry ass all the way to the field hospital, which consisted of a tent, six cots and Sergeant Lily Munroe.
He recalled the first time he had seen her at the joint operations command in Entebbe. She’d been the only female assigned to the mission, and with her big dark eyes and curvy body, she’d drawn her share of attention from the younger, single soldiers. But she’d been all business, at least at the beginning, focused on ensuring she had the necessary supplies and equipment to set up a mobile medical unit in the middle of the jungle. Despite the fact she wasn’t actually a doctor, most of the guys called her Doc. Except Aiden, he could only think of her as Lily—beautiful, delicate, fragrant.
For the eight weeks they were at the joint operations command, he’d fought his growing attraction to her, knowing their paths were unlikely to ever cross again once they left Entebbe. She hadn’t been completely immune to him, either. He’d caught her watching him when she thought he wasn’t looking. She might pretend to be all business, but if he’d given her any indication of just how interested he really was, she’d have been all over him. He wasn’t being conceited, just realistic.
But as much as he wanted to make their relationship personal—very personal—his mission came first. He’d told himself that he was doing them both a favor by keeping his distance. Any relationship they had would be based solely on sex, and when they finally went their separate ways, she’d be hurt. He’d seen it happen before, and he didn’t want to hurt Lily Munroe. So he’d deliberately kept his distance.
And then his buddy and fellow SEAL Brad Dixon had decided she was fair game, and any opportunity Aiden might have had to change his mind was obliterated by the other man’s charm and determination to win Lily over. Unlike Aiden, his friend had absolutely no problem with meaningless sex and short-term relationships.
Aiden had come across them kissing once, in Entebbe. They’d broken apart when he’d cleared his throat, and Lily had bolted past him, avoiding his eyes. Beyond that one embrace, he hadn’t actually seen proof that they were a couple, but Brad had let him know in no uncertain terms that he and Lily were together in every way that mattered. The knowledge had twisted Aiden’s insides, and made him want to smash the other man’s face in. But for the sake of the team—they were a unit, after all—he’d contained his jealousy and had tried to forget Lily Munroe. But he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her,
And now here she was, soothing his fevered skin and gazing at him as if she gave a damn whether he lived or died.
He struggled to sit up, but she put her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back down on the pillows.
“Easy, sailor,” she chided softly. “You’re not going anywhere. At least not today.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted. He didn’t want her to see him this way, weak and defenseless. And no way would he confess to her how much his bones still ached. “I need to get back to my team.”
Lily gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Chief Cross, but you’re in no condition to return to duty.”
She was right, of course, but Aiden didn’t want to admit it. He hated that he was so weak. So helpless. His entire military career was based on his physical abilities and his intelligence. But right now, he felt as weak as a newborn kitten, and it was all he could do to think straight.
“How long before I can rejoin my team?”
Lily shook her head. “It’s hard to say. Dengue fever can be extremely debilitating. You’re lucky that you had an uncomplicated strain, but it could be weeks before you’re your old self again.”
Aiden sharpened his focus on her. “What are you saying? That I have to stay in this tent until you say I’m fit for duty?”
Lily smiled.
She was pretty by any standard, but when she smiled, she was breathtaking. Aiden went a little weak in a way that had nothing to do with his illness. In fact, he might actually enjoy being confined to a tent, if Lily Munroe was there with him.
“Actually,” she said, “you’re going home.”
For a moment, Aiden was too stunned to speak. When he did find his voice, it came out as no more than a husky rasp. “What?”
“You’re being sent home to recuperate.” At his appalled expression, she paused. “This doesn’t make you happy.”
“No.”
Lily leaned forward with an encouraging smile. “You’ll be home in time for Christmas.”
Christmas.
Under normal circumstances, Aiden would have given his left nut to spend Christmas with his family. Since joining the navy, he could count the number of holidays he’d spent with them on one hand. Did he want to go home?
Hell, yeah.
He thought of his parents, Matthew and Susan Cross. When was the last time he’d hugged his mother, or shaken his father’s hand? They’d be getting ready to have the entire extended family over to the house for the holidays, and his dad would be creating yet another holiday-themed martini.
His mom would be going all out with the decorations, bringing out her holiday collections, stringing garland and mistletoe and hanging wreaths throughout the house, including the bedrooms. Together with Aiden’s sister and his nieces and nephews, she would bake enough Christmas cookies to swap with the entire neighborhood.
His younger sister Remy had gotten married two years ago, and now she and her husband were expecting their first baby in the spring. He would love to see the telltale bump and share in their excitement. And his older brother, Rob, would bring his wife, his four kids and their dog to the house, ensuring there was sufficient chaos and childish anticipation to go around.
Did Aiden want to be a part of that?
Absolutely.
But he needed to remain in Africa with his unit.
Lily’s words reverberated through his head. You’re being sent home. Like a boy being expelled from school for bad behavior. He’d never been forced to leave his team behind. Even understanding it was for everyone’s benefit, it went against every instinct he had. Unfortunately, he lacked the strength to protest. Instead, he turned his head to the side and stared at a point beyond Lily, trying to contain his conflicting emotions.
So he was unprepared when Lily put a cool hand against his jaw and gen
tly turned his face until he was staring directly into her eyes.
“You won’t do your unit any good by staying here.” Her voice was low but firm. “You need to get better, and the best place to do that is at home. Get better, and then you can return to your team.” She paused. “Do you know how many soldiers and sailors would love to be going home for Christmas?”
Aiden pushed down the surge of guilt that swamped him. She was right. He was a selfish bastard, and he should be grateful for this opportunity.
But he wouldn’t only be leaving his team; he’d be leaving her. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see her again after Entebbe, and now here she was. Maybe the fever was to blame, but the pull of attraction was even stronger than he remembered. He’d thought of her—dreamed of her—so often in the past months, seeing her now was almost more than he could comprehend.
Before he could respond, the flap of the tent was pushed open and two men stepped through. Aiden recognized the first man as his buddy Brad Dixon. Lily stood up abruptly and stepped away from the bed. Brad’s gaze flicked only briefly to her, but as he walked toward the cot, Aiden didn’t miss how he brushed against Lily, covertly stroking a single finger along the bare skin of her arm. Her eyes flew to Aiden’s, and he knew that she knew he hadn’t missed that small contact.
“Hey, man, how’re you feeling?” Brad asked.
Aiden didn’t want to talk to Brad. He wanted to drag him outside and kick his ass. Instead, he reached out and clasped the other man’s hand. “Doing better, thanks to you.”
“You’re looking better. You were in pretty rough shape.”
Aiden glanced at Lily, who was slowly wringing out the washcloth in a basin of water. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s what Sergeant Munroe said.”
“Hey, I’d carry your sorry ass through the jungle anytime.” Brad grinned. “You’d do the same for me.”
