By Honor Bound
Page 1
BY HONOR BOUND
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, October 2004
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
1337 Commerce Drive, #13
Stow, OH 44224
ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-714-X
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML
HIS SISTER’S KISS © 2004 KATE HILL
MAJOR PLEASURE © 2004 DENISE A. AGNEW
CHARMING ANNIE © 2004 ARIANNA HART
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Edited by Briana St. James and Martha Punches.
Cover art by Syneca.
BY HONOR BOUND
His Sister’s Kiss
by Kate Hill
Major Pleasure
by Denise A. Agnew
Charming Annie
by Arianna Hart
HIS SISTER’S KISS
Kate Hill
Chapter One
December 23, 1967
North Carolina
Oh goodness.
Angela Christine Franco stared at the six-foot-three-inch hunk of Marine. Deep set blue eyes gazed at her from beneath an almost primitive brow. Broad shoulders, set straight and proud, filled her doorway. Beneath the uniform, his powerful chest tapered to a lean waist and the longest legs she’d ever seen on a man. Her heart fluttered and desire coursed through her as her mouth suddenly went dry.
“Miss Franco? I’m Abraham Marley Forbes.” His deep voice made her toes curl and her body tingle in all the right places.
Guilt washed over her. Lust should be the last thought inspired by this man.
Two months ago, Angela had learned her brother, Jim, a gunnery sergeant in the corps who had been missing in action in Vietnam, had died in a prison camp. Abraham, Jim’s good friend, had been with him at the time.
In spite of his handsome looks, captivity shone in the thinness of his big-boned frame and the scar above his right eye.
She grasped the hand he extended and shook it. Warmth spread up her arm and her temperature rose from his touch. “Please come in.”
With a slight nod, he stepped into the hallway and followed her to the parlor.
“It’s good of you to come by,” she said.
“I’d hoped you wouldn’t object. Jim spoke so much about you and Polly that I almost feel I know you.”
Angela smiled. “I understand. He mentioned you several times in letters.”
“I wanted to see for myself that you’re both all right and let you know you can depend on me for anything you might need.”
Angela drew a deep breath, thinking she needed to know if his lips felt as soft as they looked. Damn you, Angela! Get a hold of yourself. It’s certainly not the first time you’ve seen a man in uniform! But she’d never seen one quite like this. Virility oozed from his every pore. He emanated such power and authority. Those cool sapphire eyes fixed on her and she resisted the urge to squirm in her seat. Her belly tightened in an unaccustomed feeling of sexual desire.
“That’s generous of you, but we’re fine. It was rough going at first, trying to make Polly understand that Jim’s gone.” Angela paused, shaking her head and swallowing hard. “God, usually I handle it better than this.”
“It’s all right.” His voice softened a bit. “Jim was a damn good man. He saved my ass—I mean my life—more times than I can count.”
“He said the same about you.”
“There are some things Jim wanted me to tell you. I promised that if I ever got out of there, I’d make sure you’d know. Polly, too. Is that her?” He glanced at the picture on the coffee table.
“Yes. She looks like Jim, doesn’t she?”
“Sure does.” Abraham touched the brass frame.
“As you probably know, her mother died shortly after she was born.”
He nodded, his penetrating gaze fixing on her again. This time she noticed emotions burning beneath the calm surface of his eyes.
“How are you?” she asked.
“I’m fine, ma’am.”
“I can’t begin to imagine what you must have gone through.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you can’t and hope you never have reason to find out.”
“Are you on leave?”
“Yes, ma’am. For the next three weeks. I just got out of the hospital a couple of days ago.”
“It’s nice you’ll be able to spend the holidays with your family.”
“No family, ma’am.”
“None?” She felt a twinge of sadness. How awful that this man who had been captured, tortured, and finally rescued had no family to welcome him home.
“No, ma’am. The holidays never meant much to me anyway. I’m not one for celebrations.”
“This year Polly and I are keeping it quiet. Making a big fuss so soon after Jim’s death just wouldn’t feel right.”
“I—”
“Hi!” called a small voice. A girl of about five ran into the room. She stopped in front of Abraham, her blue eyes wide.
“Polly, this is Master Sergeant Forbes,” Angela explained.
“He looks like Daddy.” She crawled onto the couch beside him, sitting close.
Abraham swallowed visibly, his eyes gleaming with emotion that broke free for all of two seconds.
“Polly, why don’t you come sit with me and give him some room?”
“It’s all right.” Abraham placed an arm around the girl who gazed up at him. “Polly, I came here to talk about your dad. He and I knew each other for a long time and he told me a lot about you and your aunt.”
“I miss him.”
“I know. So do I.”
Abraham spoke to Polly for about an hour. As Angela listened to him relay her brother’s messages, part of her wished it was Jim sitting with them while another part of her was grateful Abraham had survived.
She knew a good man when she saw one, and she had no doubt that Abraham was one of the best.
* * * * *
“Polly, go get washed up for dinner,” Angela said.
“Is Abe staying?”
Angela’s gaze met the Master Sergeant’s. Her mouth went dry. Standing, she moistened her lips. “If he wants to.”
“No. I have to go.” He stood and straightened his jacket.
“Oh.” Angela wondered if she appeared as disappointed as she felt. Not that it mattered. Polly looked disappointed enough for both of them. “It would be no problem for you to stay.”
“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble, ma’am.”
“You won’t be. There’s plenty of food, but if you stay I must ask you one favor.” He lifted an eyebrow and she grinned. “Stop calling me ma’am. Polly, wash up and set the table. Abe, you can help me peel potatoes.”
“KP I can handle.” He smiled, following her into the kitchen as Polly hurried upstairs.
Moments later, Angela and Abe stood side by side. He washed and peeled potatoes in the sink while she chopped them. In between cutting, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He’d removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing powerful wrists and sinewy forearms dusted with dark hair. His huge, long-fingered hands were far more graceful than she’d expect from a man like him.
“Would you like to spend the holidays with us, Abe?”
He paused and turned to her, holding her captive with his deep blue gaze. He drew a long breath and released it slowly. “I don’t think it would be appropria
te.”
“Jim’s dead. Neither of us are in the mood to celebrate, so why don’t we be miserable together?”
A slight smile touched his finely drawn lips. “When you put it that way, it’s hard to say no.”
“We’re eating at four o’clock tomorrow night, but come early if you want. The weather is supposed to be bad.”
He nodded. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“You’re welcome.”
Angela resumed chopping. Her belly fluttered at the thought of spending Christmas with him. Polly obviously adored him, so Angela told herself it was for her niece’s sake that she’d invited him. She didn’t want to admit how much he stirred her libido.
* * * * *
Abe inhaled deeply, cold air filling his lungs. The weather was surprisingly harsh for these parts, even for wintertime.
For months he’d dreaded the thought of visiting Jim’s family. Few people had meant anything to him in his life, but Jim had been one of them. They’d gone through much together—boot camp and two tours of Vietnam. It was that last time they’d been captured—the only survivors of an ambush. How many times had they wished they’d died with the rest of their squad?
Abe considered himself a strong man and a good soldier. He thought he’d seen just about everything, but nothing had prepared him for the hell of the prison camp. Shitting himself while chest-deep in swamp muck became a way of life along with beatings and other abuses he didn’t want to remember.
About a month after their capture, Jim died of an infection. Abe had actually envied him, except for one thing. He had a family, a daughter in the care of his sister, a young woman who earned her living as a tutor. Jim talked about them often, sharing with Abe a family life he’d only dreamed of. In spite of his decent looks and a body most men would kill for, Abe couldn’t seem to hold onto a woman. He just couldn’t relate to most people. Orphaned as a boy, Abe had spent his life shuffled among distant relatives until finally ending up in a home where he lived until joining the Marines at eighteen. Always a focused young man, he’d taken well to military life. He’d never regretted joining, even while suffering in that Vietnamese shit hole. The Corps was his life, the only place where he’d ever really belonged, so he couldn’t help admiring Jim’s family life. Before Jim died, Abe had promised that if he ever made it home, he’d see that Jim’s sister and daughter never wanted for anything.
Almost a year after his capture, Abe was rescued. Nearly dead from starvation and disease, he’d spent the past couple of months hospitalized and in counseling to help him “deal with” what he’d gone through. He’d rebelled at first, wanting to work through his ordeal in his own way. The Corps didn’t agree, however. Unless he wanted to continue as a prisoner in his own country, he’d take the counseling provided.
Abe had needed it more than he realized. Anger, fear, and pain were bottled inside him. Those emotions still hadn’t dissipated and he doubted they ever would. Then there were the nightmares. At night instead of resting, he was back in ‘Nam, fighting for his next breath. The leave hadn’t been his idea. The last thing he wanted was three weeks of nothing to do but think about where he’d been and what he’d seen.
That was why Angela’s invitation was so welcome. Normally Abe would never have agreed to spend Christmas with anybody. Hell, he didn’t even celebrate holidays. Ever. The minute he’d looked into her beautiful hazel eyes, the second he’d stepped into that warm, cheery little house, he’d felt strangely comfortable. Perhaps it was because Jim had spoken of her so much, but he felt as if he and Angela weren’t strangers at all.
It’s her terrific body, he told himself. Those gorgeous breasts that filled out her black and white checkered dress belted at her waist and draping hips so shapely that his mouth watered. Damn, his health must be returning after all. It had been quite a while since he’d thought about taking a woman to bed.
What the hell is wrong with you, Forbes? This isn’t some two-dollar whore from the docks. She’s your deceased friend’s sister, so don’t treat her like anything but a lady.
Then there was Polly. Looking at the kid breached the icy barrier years of loneliness had erected around his heart. She had eyes like Jim and Angela. Talking to a child at an age when she was so honest and wondering refreshed him in a way he never imagined possible.
Jim should be here instead, enjoying his family. Why was Abe, a man with no strings attached to anyone, alive and Jim, a man with so much to live for, dead?
Just one of those questions to which there would never be an answer.
Chapter Two
Angela’s stomach churned so much she wondered how she was going to eat the Christmas Eve dinner she’d spent the day preparing. Whenever she thought of Abe, heat rose in her face and her heart raced like a love-struck teenager’s. Something in the man’s steady blue eyes and sexy Texas drawl did things to her emotions she never imagined possible.
Most women her age were married with families of their own. She’d had offers from several decent young men her parents loved, but they hadn’t stirred her.
“You’re throwing your life away searching for a dream,” her mother often told her. “Romance is an illusion. Marriage is about hard work and sacrifice. It’s about not growing old alone, like what’s happening to you.”
Angela refused to make sacrifices for someone she didn’t love. Jim and his wife had love. They’d been happy together, but where had it gotten them? At least now they were rejoined in death.
Shaking her head, Angela finished sprinkling cheese over the pan of baked macaroni and placed it in the oven to keep warm. This season without Jim was depressing enough. Why make herself even more miserable and ruin the night for Polly and Abe?
Abe with his broad shoulders and long, hard-muscled legs.Abe who weakened her with a single look.
“How’s that, Aunt Angela?” Polly gestured toward the table she’d just finished setting.
“It looks lovely. Why don’t you get Abe’s present and put it on the coffee table?”
Polly hurried to retrieve the gift they’d shopped for that morning. Unsure of what to buy on such short notice for a man she scarcely knew, Angela had decided gloves were a safe enough choice. Besides, his large, long-fingered hands would look rather sensual in the black leather gloves.
No sooner had Angela placed the basket of sliced bread and butter on the table when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” Polly shouted, racing ahead of her aunt and pausing in front of the door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Abe.”
Polly tugged open the door.
Angela grinned at the sight of the towering Master Sergeant carrying two boxes wrapped in red and green paper.
“Abe, you shouldn’t have,” Angela said, taking the gifts he handed Polly.
Shrugging, he met her gaze. A shiver ran down her spine. She told herself it was from the cold, but would the cold make her tingle and buzz in places that made her blush?
“Come in and sit. Dinner’s ready.” Angela glanced at him over her shoulder. “I hope you like macaroni.”
“When it comes to food, I like just about everything, but I must say, Angela, your cooking smells especially good.”
“I hope it doesn’t disappoint you.”
“It would be hard for anything about you to be disappointing…” He held her gaze and looked almost sheepish before adding, “ma’am.”
Angela’s pulse skipped. This man liked her. She was sure of it. Not just any like. This was the deep-down, giddy, I’m-thinking-of-the-wedding-night kind of like she’d always dreamed about.
Drawing a deep breath, she took the food from the oven and told herself to get a grip on her emotions. Her brother was dead. This was his best friend who had come to offer some comfort. Maybe her mother was right. She was a dreamer getting desperate with longing for the impossible relationship she’d imagined.
Polly sat at the table, nabbing Abe’s attention with a flurry of questions and stories about school
and tomorrow’s visit to her grandparents.
Though Angela didn’t get along well with her parents, she felt Polly deserved a relationship with them. Jim had felt the same, which was why he’d made Angela his daughter’s legal guardian.
“I hope we don’t get a storm tomorrow,” Polly said. She glanced at Abe. “Aunt Polly won’t drive to Grandma and Grandpa’s in bad weather.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get there.” Angela tugged the girl’s ponytail. All day long the news had been filled with stories of the ice storm moving toward North Carolina.
“I’d be glad to drive you,” Abe said.
“We wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It would be no imposition.”
“I’ll call Grandma and tell her Abe’s coming.” Polly darted for the phone.
“Would that be a problem?” he asked. “Because if you think they wouldn’t want to see me, I don’t mind giving you the ride. I don’t want to upset them any more than they must already be.”
“If you’re driving us, then you’re coming to eat. Besides, I think they’d like to meet you.” Angela dished out the macaroni, giving Abe an extra helping. “You look like you can use this.”
The corners of his lips tugged up in what might have been a smile. He always looked so serious and stern it was hard to tell. “I haven’t had a home-cooked meal since
I was about nine years old. Mess hall food’s not bad, though. I kinda like it, especially after the shi—” He glanced at Polly. “I mean garbage I was eating this past year.”
Angela shuddered to think about what he and Jim had gone through. She had the strangest urge to offer him comfort in every way imaginable. This man was getting under her skin and no matter how she tried keeping her thoughts decent and pure, it just wasn’t happening.
After dinner, the three sat in the living room and exchanged gifts.
“It’s a dog!” Polly beamed, tugging the shaggy brown stuffed animal from the box.