by S. M. Butler
He hadn’t touched Luci except to place a hand on her shoulder and whisper a request, to see if he could be of service to her in some small way. He spoke carefully, softly, working to bring her as much honey in his voice as he could find. He noticed the hairs at the back of her neck rose whenever he talked to her, and felt the glorious tickle of the hairs around the side of her face when he spoke softly into her ear.
Quite unexpectedly, she walked toward him after putting the baby down for a nap, placing her palms against his chest, allowing her breasts to brush against him. She did this without shame or appearing she needed to hide her feelings. Her eyes searched his without a question resident there. Danny found himself covering her hands with his, then lifting each palm one by one, kissing the undersides right in the middle. Her natural body oils infused into him. Her loveliness was indescribable. She matched his kissing of her palms with motions of the same kind, and then they just looked at each other, at the miracle of the culmination of generations of Dine who had stood honestly face to face, and became a partnership with more than their bodies.
She turned and announced to the little group on the couch her intention to take a walk with him. Wilson, Jeffrey, and Sarah were watching an old Bachelorette episode Jeffrey had stared in. His cousin nodded his head stoically, but Jeffrey gave him a wink and a full on Hollywood smile. Sarah was so engrossed in the program she didn’t look up.
Outside the front door, Danny noticed an old folded blanket and a glass bottle of homemade lemonade sitting on a wicker chair. Birds were chirping in the bright pink bougainvillea vine that had tried to take over her mother’s porch.
“Where are we going, Luci?”
“There’s a little trail to a frog pond I used to walk as a child. I haven’t seen it in years. Maybe the frogs are gone, the water too for that matter, but I want to see it again.
He laced his fingers through hers, and she squeezed tight and then let go. He found his arm fit well around her waist, his palm resting on her hip as she took long flowing strides.
A chorus of frog sounds abruptly ended when they walked through some grey-green brush. Luci pulled the reeds aside, and he saw a small pond being fed by a tiny stream.
She laid the blanket out and slipped off her shoes. Danny handed her the lemonade jar and did the same.
“I started coming here when my uncle wouldn’t stop trying to come after me.” She turned her delicate neck, and, with her eyes dancing, gave him a warm smile. “This was like my own little Secret Garden, like the children’s book I loved so much. Do you know it?”
“I’m sorry, no.”
“Well, it’s a story about an unwanted little girl and her two friends, one the son of a servant, who find solace and health in a secret garden locked away after the death of the mistress of the house. Inside this garden, they are protected by a high wall that also masks the sounds of their play and their laughter.”
Danny was sorry he’d never been told that story.
“I learned about it in school. I took to reading quite naturally, thank God. I never had parents who told me the legends and ways of our people, Danny. Not like you did.”
He knew he was lucky to have had the influence of his grandfather, something he had to admit he hadn’t realized until the old man was gone.
“I used this place to get away from the harshness and dangers of my world. To a place where miracles happened and people’s souls were healed.”
Danny looked out over the cool water. “Reminds me of some of the fishing holes Grandfather took me to as a child. Wilson would come, too. We’d camp out under the stars. The sky seemed so much bigger then.”
Luci, nodded. “I don’t have memories like that. But Griffin will. He’ll have all that.”
“Yes, he will,” Danny admitted.
A gentle breeze floated by them. A hummingbird hovered over a cactus flower. Several brave frogs resumed their singing.
“He never raped me, Danny, but I felt unsafe and violated just the same. I’m glad I didn’t have to kill him, but you know, I dreamt about it every night.” She pointed to the pool with her outstretched hand. “This place gave me the courage I needed. I knew that some day I would have to deal with Uncle Corwin, and I vowed I’d be strong when that day came.”
Danny wasn’t shocked. The deliberate way she’d handled herself under pressure had indicated to him she’d planned it for years.
“I learned how to shoot a gun, and I learned some self-defense. I knew some day I’d need all of that.”
“I’ll bet. Watching you yesterday, Luci,” he took her hand in his and rubbed the back of it her palm with his thumb, “I could see you’d thought about it for a long time.”
Danny wasn’t sure how to bring up what he hoped would be their future.
“Luci, I’ll be going back to San Diego with Jeffrey in a few days. Would you consider coming with us?”
Her answer was immediate. She shook her head.
“I’m not going to leave Sarah here alone.”
“But she has your mom.”
“I can’t ask that of her just yet.”
“Then bring her. Bring them both.”
“I’ll think about it, Danny.” Her honest mouth demanded to be kissed. She was looking up at him, searching his eyes.
“Marry me, Luci,”
“You don’t even know me, Danny.”
“Yes I do. I’ve known you my whole life.”
She traced his mouth with her forefinger. “We’ll see. We’ll see where this takes us, and then we’ll decide. Together.”
“You aren’t going to be able to make me stay away, Luci,” he said as he covered her mouth, tasting her need and the sweetness of her spirit.
“Danny Begay, I have no intention of making you stay away,” she whispered back to him between kisses.
He followed her body as it gently rested against the quilt. Unfastening the latch on her silver and turquoise belt, he took his time unbuttoning her white cotton blouse, each time kissing the flesh he could see between the two sides, parting them, tracing a line from her navel to the bottom of her bra.
Her hands squeezed over his buttocks as she pulled him into her, raising her knee and lifting her skirts so his groin could rub against the soft tissues of her sex. His hands relished the soft skin of her backside. When he drew toward her center, he peeled her panties to one side and pinched her bud, then slipped a finger inside her as she arched to receive him. Her delicate neck craned backward as he kissed down her middle until he dropped his head under her skirt and his tongue found her opening.
He heard the singers again. Thankfully, his grandfather was quiet, but the singers’ sweet song mingled with Luci’s moans as he could feel her strength build with the crescendo of her desire.
Love me, Luci. Can you do this? Am I enough for you?
He climbed on top of her, releasing his pants, then stopped and began to sit up. “I wasn’t prepared. I—”
“Shhh,” she said as she covered his mouth with her three middle fingers, pulling him by the collar against her chest. “The chances are slim right now. Besides, I’ve waited a whole year for this.”
He entered her slow, watching the emotions cross her face like the white billowy clouds of the Four Corners. Her eyes filled with need the more he rooted deep inside her. She resisted, matching his body’s hardness and strength, and then she melted underneath him, surrendering fully, becoming pliable. He rode her body like a cascading wave, savoring her, bringing her to the brink of release and then changing the tempo, kissing her softly and allowing her to catch her breath. Finally, she demanded more, pulled him deep, and ground her mound into him furiously.
He vowed he’d convince her in the days ahead that the only place she belonged was at his side. He’d be a father to Griffin. He’d be her lover, her protector, and the keeper of her flame. He’d dedicate his life to giving her more than she’d ever expected or thought she wanted.
There were details to work out. He would be leaving soon f
or a long workup before his first deployment. But they were just details. He was done with the search to find himself, finding her in the process. This gentle soul and his young son would become the focus of his life. There wasn’t anything to prove and everything to come home to. If she’d take a chance on him, he’d keep his promise and make her feel like the luckiest girl in the whole world. Nothing could keep him from coming home.
The End
To see a continuation of this story, the full length novel, SEAL’s Code is available on all eReaders. Print and audio version of the full length novel available soon.
Sharon enjoys hearing from readers. You can find out about all of Sharon’s books in the SEAL Brotherhood Series, as well as her popular paranormal series, on her website: www.authorsharonhamilton.com, where you can also sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date with appearances, new releases, sneak previews and her blog. There are also audio snippets of all of Sharon’s characters, as well as links to purchase the award-winning versions of all her books.
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The Guardian
SEALs Beyond Battlefields
Kimberley Troutte
NY Times and USA Today bestselling, RITA©-award nominated author
Website | Newsletter
About This Book
Corpsman Luke Carter quit the SEALs to take care of his chronically ill daughter and now battles for a cure with The Guardians—a secret philanthropic organization that funds medical trials. To save costs, he must close a failing clinic in Haiti where a compassionate doctor fights to save her patients. Beautiful and strong, she touches his battered heart, making it feel something that died in him long ago—love.
But time is a ticking bomb and their world is about to be ripped apart.
Dedicated to the Search and Rescue teams who risk their lives to save others. A special thanks to Direct Relief for continuing to send aid to Haiti.
Chapter One
‡
January 3, 2010. Nine Days Before…
AIDS Clinic, Port-au-Prince
Dr. Ysabeau Morno waited until the clinic was almost empty before dragging her feet into the lab to check the viral loads. Months ago she was brimming with hope and raced like a child down the corridor to see the results of the serum trial. Tonight, her sandals scuffed across the floor as if she was lining up before a firing squad.
Placing the first drop of blood on the slide was a lot harder than it should have been. Her hands shook terribly. The lab was quiet except for the distracting hum of the florescent lights and the pounding of her heart in her ears.
The faces of her sick patients haunted her thoughts. One by one, a hundred of them had come to her clinic and begged her to save their lives. Her serum trial was the last resort for these people, her people. They were the unlucky group who had not responded to traditional medicines and were going to die horrible wasteful deaths, each and every one of them, unless she found the cure. So far she’d buried twenty patients. Twenty! How many more would die before she got the serum right?
“Come on, come on!” She turned the knob on the microscope and pressed her glasses against the eyepieces. “Good results, please, God.”
She held her breath as the magnified image came into focus. No! She pushed back from the table. Her stool screeched across the linoleum tiles.
Furiously, she paced inside the lab. It’s not working! Why? Ysabeau wanted to scream or hurl the microscope out the window and deep into the Gulf of Gonâve. Maybe she’d jump in after it.
The serum had worked beautifully during the animal testing. What was she doing wrong?
Circling back to the table with the dreaded microscope, she picked up the patient’s file. She would have paid all the money left in her paltry savings account for someone to steal the file right out of her hands. Exhaling deeply, she read the name.
Mr. Johnson.
She blinked hard on the tears. If she started crying now, she might never stop.
Mr. Johnson.
She could almost feel his calloused hands in hers.
“I’ve got faith in you, girl,” the old fisherman had said the day he signed up for the trial. “Them other doctors were headshrinkers. Not you, Dr. Morno, you’re gonna get this right ’cuz my grandbaby is getting married in June. She’s a sweet little thing, my grandbaby. But you don’t want to get her cranky. She turns more venomous than one of them long-nosed solenodons when she doesn’t get what she wants. She says she be dancin’ the Merengue with me on her special day. It’s what she wants, and I can’t disappoint her, can I? Make me well, Dr. Morno.”
Ysabeau’s heart shattered. Mr. Johnson wasn’t going to be dancing in June. He’d be cremated long before then.
Grief pounded in her head. Her patients were dying before her eyes.
A nurse knocked quietly and said, “Talitha and her mother are here. Do you want me to bring them to the examination room?”
Talitha was the youngest person in the trial and one of the sickest.
Ysabeau dried her cheeks. “Yes. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She had to pull herself together for her patients. They trusted her. Needed her. Plastering on a smile that felt as foreign and tight as stretched-on rubber, she forced her legs to carry her into the exam room and said as cheerily as she could, “Bonswa! How is my favorite patient?”
The frail girl with knobby knees and painfully thin arms looked up from her chair. “Hi, Dr. Morno. I’m better today.”
The girl’s mother, a woman who had aged five years in the last month, bolted to her feet. “Do you have news, doctor? Is the medicine working?”
Ysabeau swallowed hard. “Soon. We pray for soon.”
The woman dipped her head as she sank back into her plastic chair. It was a slight movement, barely noticeable, but Ysabeau caught it and knew. Talitha’s mother had given up hope.
As Ysabeau lightly pressed the stethoscope to Talitha’s bony back, she said, “Oh Talitha, your dress is beautiful. I love the color.”
The little girl smiled, and for the briefest of seconds a light flashed in her dark, sunken eyes. “Pink makes me feel pretty.”
Her mother turned her head away so as not to show her emotions. Ysabeau struggled to keep hers in check, as well. Pretty was a word rarely heard at this clinic.
“You are beautiful, Talitha.” Ysabeau patted the girl’s head while noting her curly dark hair had orange highlights, a sign of severe malnutrition. “Simply beautiful.”
Checking Talitha’s blood pressure, Ysabeau had to remind herself she was examining a twelve-year-old girl who, like any other girl her age, was concerned with her looks. And boys. Talitha was so small and emaciated Ysabeau wanted to pull her into her lap and cradle her like a child. A very sick child dying with AIDS.
Ysabeau bit back on the rage and anguish that threatened to swamp her. She had to fix this. Talitha should be allowed to fall in love. To dance at her own wedding. To live. She couldn’t let this little girl die.
*
Our Lady’s Sorrow, San Francisco
Cutting the engine, Luke Carter rolled his Carrera to a stop half a block from the guard’s house and pushed it an extra five feet beneath the drooping branches of a willow. He snuck past the house, crept to the locked gates and hopped the fence. Landing in a crouch on the dew-drenched grass, he held the brown bag and waited to see if he’d been detected. Nothing. Not even a whimper from the guard’s old dog. He went on.
The landscape was silver-coated with mist, but still he knew his way by heart. One gravestone, two, three, too many. He counted them off as he passed, careful not to wake the living or dead.
Unzipping his bomber jacket, Luke took out the grass-stained blanket his wife, Soli, had knit with her weak, quivering fingers. He
held the folded blanket to his chest a brief second before spreading it out across the grass.
Sitting cross-legged on the blanket, he spoke to his wife’s headstone as he dug inside the bag for a pastry. “Morning, sweetheart. I’ve got breakfast, but the new kid at the bakery sold out your favorite blueberry muffins.” He inspected a scone. “Raspberry.”
Closing his eyes, he tried to envision that heart-stopping Soli smile. Luke’s chest tightened. It was getting harder and harder to remember her smile, soft touch, and amazing laughter. Hell, she was slipping away from him.
A dove cooed in a tree above. It was a lonely, desperate sound.
He toasted her with his cup of black coffee and placed her vanilla latte on the ground next to him. “We’ll have blueberry muffins next time, or the kid is toast.”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Inside, next to his SEAL trident pin, was his most valuable possession—a picture of their little girl taken last year. He gazed at the photo while fear and pride tied his intestines into knots. Staring into the camera was a bald, fearless thirteen-year-old girl with darkly circled eyes and a blazingly beautiful smile. If a person didn’t really look, they might think the girl in the photo was fragile. Looking closely now, Luke saw the strength in Sunny’s eyes. Her smile was so ferociously beautiful it stole a little piece of his heart. His sweet, loving daughter was a scrapper in the fight of her life. She was far tougher than he’d ever be.
Gently kissing the picture, Luke stood it up next to Soli’s headstone. He couldn’t lose his little girl. He’d never survive without her.
“I swear, Soli, I’m going to have to beat the boys off with sticks. She’s so damned beautiful. Just like her mother.”
His iPhone went off in his hip pocket. So much for sneaking in undetected. He checked the caller ID. Private caller. Shit. That could only mean one thing—his past was coming back to bite him in the ass. He ran his hands through his hair and answered on the second ring.
