Her Millionaire Marine

by Cathie Linz

  “I take it you’re not upset with my decision to accept Charles’s resignation?”

  “I’m happier than a coon in a cornfield.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Tex.”

  “So how do you like your new office?” She nodded to the space next to Hank’s old office.

  After over a month of working in the cramped confines of the conference room where he’d first set up his ops H.Q., Striker had had to revise his plans and move into a bigger space. Using his grandfather’s old office still didn’t sit right with him, so he staked out his own territory in the office of a recently retired executive.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Don’t knock me over with your enthusiasm now,” Tex mocked him. “You Marines are such a rowdy bunch.”

  “It’s nicer than a tick on a hound dog. How’s that?”

  “What’s nice about a tick on a hound dog?” Tex countered. “If you’re makin’ up sayin’s, then you need to do better than that.”

  “I’ll work on it. In between all the other things I have to do.”

  Meanwhile, back at the ranch, his dad had yet to devise a practical solution to get on his mom’s good side. Stan was still sleeping in the RV while Angela was in a guest bedroom. Striker had managed to avoid the sticky situation by spending more and more time at the office.

  Kate dropped by occasionally that week but seemed determined to put some space between them. As long as Striker talked to her about his ideas for the company, she was an eager listener and indeed a creative thinker.

  But whenever he attempted to turn the conversation to a more personal subject, she retreated. The only topic that was safe was their mutual confusion about their parents’ behavior, which is what they talked about when Kate came by the following Monday morning.

  “My mom is back home again but my father tells me she’s not speaking to him.”

  “It’s been eight days.” He knew, because that’s how long it had been since he’d kissed Kate. Had her mom said something to her to make Kate retreat? But it wasn’t as if she’d totally retreated. She just wasn’t kissing him. Obviously they had to get rid of this parental situation, then he’d figure out how to get Kate back into his arms. Without the worry of one of their parents interrupting them at a critical moment. “How long can they keep this up?”

  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out.” Striker didn’t like that idea one bit. Waiting around was not a Marine’s strong suit.

  “Thanks for meeting me here,” Jack told Stan Monday evening as they sat at a table in an upscale bar a few miles from Westwind. They both ordered beers— Stan’s an American label, Jack’s a German import.

  “So,” Jack began. “Is your wife still acting as crazy as mine is?”

  “You mean not speaking to me?”

  Jack nodded.

  “Yeah.” Stan took a healthy sip of his beverage. “How long do you think they’re going to keep this up?”

  “I have no idea. It’s not logical.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I mean it’s not like we committed some horrible crime. They are definitely overreacting in my opinion.”

  “Mine, too.”

  “I’m so glad you agree.”

  “So what do we do about it?” Stan demanded.

  “Do?” Jack repeated.

  “Yeah, do. We clearly have to take the offensive here. We can’t just sit back and let them call the shots. It’s time we launched a battle plan of our own.”

  “Well, you’re the expert in battle plans,” Jack countered. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I may be an expert in battle plans, but I’m no expert when it comes to women. Which is why I called in reinforcements. Ah, there he is.” Stan waved his hand. “Striker, over here!”

  Striker had no idea that his dad would be joined by Jack Bradley when his dad had called asking Striker to meet him at this bar. “What’s going on, guys?”

  “We’re having a planning session,” Stan replied.

  “Planning for what?”

  “For the end to hostilities with the women in our lives.”

  “And you called me here because…?”

  “Because you’re the expert in the female department.”

  “What gives you that idea?” Striker countered.

  “You haven’t had any trouble with them in the past.”

  “Says who?”

  Stan frowned. “You’ve never told me you had any trouble.”

  “Yeah, right.” Striker laughed. “Like I’m going to tell my dad about my trouble with women.”

  “You mean you don’t have any ideas on how to help us?” Jack said.

  Striker placed his order for a bottle of Mexican beer before replying. “Have you tried apologizing?”

  “For what?” Stan said. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Well, right there you have a problem to begin with,” Striker said. “The two of you did go a little overboard that night at the restaurant.”

  “Okay, so we may have overdone the competitive thing a little…”

  “A lot.”

  “…but that’s hardly something to get so upset over,” Stan continued.

  “Your women think so.”

  “What does Kate think?” Jack asked Striker.

  “Who can figure out what Kate thinks?” Striker’s expression turned brooding.

  Just when he thought he was starting to figure her out, she sent him new conflicting messages. She’d been a surprising flirt when she’d caught him naked at the swimming hole and had delighted him with her comments and her kisses. But now she’d retreated back into her Ice Queen role.

  Not really. While it was true that she’d pulled away some, she hadn’t reverted back to her old self. Instead she was somewhere in between.

  The question was why? Why was she keeping her distance? He could have sworn that she’d enjoyed their time together and their kisses as much as he did.

  As much as Striker wanted her back in his arms, he sensed that this wasn’t the time to pressure her. But that’s all he’d figured out. Her reasons for needing more space were a complete mystery to him.

  “Yeah. Women,” Stan said. “Who knows what any of them think?”

  Jack nodded and then shook his head. “Women.”

  Striker raised his bottle of Mexican beer for a toast. “To the females of the world.”

  “Let’s be a little more specific,” Jack suggested.

  “To the females in our lives,” Striker amended. “Inscrutable.”

  “Impossible,” Stan added.

  “Indispensable,” Jack said.

  They all took a drink, lost in their own thoughts.

  “We were talking about problem solving at a management meeting at King Oil today,” Striker noted. “I’m working on getting them to think the Marine Corps way. Team building. Creative ways to accomplish successful missions. Like the Crucible Event.”

  “What’s that?” Jack asked.

  “It’s the culmination of basic training. The recruits are faced with a series of events that require they work together or fail.”

  “How does that apply to our predicament with the women in our lives?” Jack asked.

  “Different ways of looking at a problem. Pooling resources. Working together. I was thinking…maybe you should borrow each other’s strengths.”

  “In what way?”

  “Dad, you could pick up some of Jack’s smooth ways. Jack, how do you usually make amends with your wife?”

  “Flowers usually work. Not this time however.”

  “Dad, when was the last time you gave Mom flowers?”

  Stan got defensive. “What is this, a test? I don’t know how long it’s been.”

  “If you can’t remember, then it’s been too long,” Jack inserted.

  “Okay, Dad, what’s your strength? Jeez, this feels more than a little weird,” Striker had to confess with a laugh. “I’m not sure I want to know how my parents make up after an ar
gument.”

  “Like I’m going to give you any juicy details,” Stan scoffed. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

  Striker returned his attention to Jack. “You said that flowers weren’t working for you this time, right? Well, then maybe you should try something different.”

  “You mean like have my secretary order my wife chocolate or jewelry instead of flowers?”

  “I mean like taking action. And this is something you’d have to do yourself, Jack. Not delegate to others.”

  “Sweep her off her feet, man,” Stan ordered Jack. “Don’t be a wimp about it!”

  “Who are you calling a wimp?” Jack glared at him. “Angela is just as angry at you as Elizabeth is at me. I don’t see you making any headway.”

  “Okay,” Striker said. “Let’s not argue amongst ourselves here. The team has to stay strong to be successful. Let’s have another toast.” All three men lifted their beers. “To successful missions all around.”

  Chapter Ten

  “What did you do?” Kate demanded when she walked into Striker’s office the next morning.

  “Why?” he countered. “What went wrong?”

  “Aha. I knew it. My dad told me that he met with you and your dad last night and that’s why he and my mom have made up.”

  “Disclosing that could be grounds for court-martialing,” Striker muttered.

  “I would have loved to have been present at that planning session,” Kate noted with a grin. “What did you guys talk about?”

  “Women.”

  “What about them?”

  “I can’t disclose that without endangering the success of our mission.”

  “Which is?”

  “To cease hostilities with the women in our lives.”

  Kate wondered if Striker was counting her as the woman in his life. She’d tried to take time-out and regain her perspective. But she’d missed him. Terribly.

  And the time they’d been apart had not made her want him any less. Quite the opposite.

  She was surprised that he hadn’t pressed her, that he hadn’t tried to turn their conversations into more personal territory. But she was also grateful that he’d given her the time to think.

  Even so, she wasn’t quite ready to talk to Striker about her feelings yet, so she returned to the safer topic of their parents.

  “Well, whatever you did, it worked. What about your folks? Have they kissed and made up?”

  “Apparently, since my dad finally slept in the house last night.”

  “Does that mean your father has accepted your coming here to run King Oil?”

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far. He’s stopped hassling me about it for the time being.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Yeah. I get hassled enough by Charles. Or I did until he resigned yesterday. He doesn’t approve of my roughshod methods. And he never did understand the concept of pulling together.”

  “Then it’s a good thing that he’s gone.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to hear you say that,” Striker admitted.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because Charles was an establishment kind of guy.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That he fits into the corporate environment.”

  “Yet you fired him.”

  “I accepted his resignation.”

  “What makes you think that he fits the corporate environment more than you do?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. During the time you’ve been in charge of King Oil, you’ve shaken things up, made changes that are good for the company and its employees.”

  “That’s the first time you’ve told me that.”

  “You’re a natural leader, Striker. Surely you know that. And as you’re always telling me, leading Marines isn’t that different from leading civilians.”

  “Except that Marines are much better at accepting orders.”

  “Even so, you’ve done a great job here. You’ve motivated people to come up with new ways of doing things. You’ve got them fired up about working here.”

  “And you know all this how?”

  “From talking to Tex and some of the other people involved.”

  “Checking up on me behind my back?”

  “There’s the Force Recon Marine in you coming out again. Not trusting anyone. When are you going to see me as someone on your side? On your team?”

  “When are you going to kiss me again?” The words were out of Striker’s mouth before he could recall them.

  Smooth, real smooth. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said that. This isn’t the proper place to discuss personal issues.”

  “I agree.”

  Her voice sounded cool again, and she sure was looking all buttoned up and proper. The suit she wore today was dark blue. She was seated across from him and had crossed her legs at the knee, which made her skirt hike up. He’d been stealing appreciative looks throughout their conversation. And, yeah, her hair was loose today, but it was smooth instead of all mussed up as it was after he kissed her.

  The desire to reach out and mess up her perfect hair with his hands, to smudge her flawless lipstick with his mouth, was almost overwhelming.

  His thoughts froze and his body hardened.

  It took all his self-control to act as if he weren’t burning up inside and to instead remain calm.

  “So why don’t we continue this conversation tonight? At my place,” Kate said. “Over dinner.”

  “What?” He couldn’t have heard her correctly.

  “I said, why don’t we continue this conversation tonight over dinner.”

  “You mean our conversation about King Oil?”

  “No.”

  “About our parents?”

  “No. About us. What do you say?”

  He was just about speechless. But he quickly recovered. “Fine. What time?”

  “Is seven all right with you?”

  Striker nodded.

  “Good. I’ll see you then.”

  He could have sworn she positively sashayed out the door. The sway of her hips packed the punch of a grenade launcher.

  He blinked at the realization that Tex was standing before him, waving her hand across his bemused face. “I’m trustin’ that you are not AWOL.”

  “Absent without leave?”

  “A wolf on the loose.”

  Striker stared down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand and wondered if he’d lost his mind. What was he doing standing here, waiting outside Kate’s door like some nervous recruit?

  He was part of the Marine Corps’s most elite fighting force—a Force Recon Marine. He could accomplish ambitious assaults with one hand tied behind his back. He was a master at behind-the-lines infiltration. He’d seen the good, the bad and the ugly in this world.

  He wasn’t a man who believed in dreams. He wasn’t a man who dwelled on nightmares. He was a man who lived in the present because that’s the only thing that was a sure bet. The here and now.

  So why was he hesitating? Why was he second-guessing himself?

  Well, for one thing, he had a feeling that Kate wanted to talk about their relationship and it was natural for a guy to be leery of that. Any conversation with a female that began with the words “We have to talk” was greeted by a guy with about as much enthusiasm as an enema.

  But Kate wasn’t like most women. She was unique. Just when he thought he was breaking the code, she changed it. Not that she was deliberately trying to be a tease. He didn’t think that was the case here.

  She was a challenge. She kept him on his toes. She surprised him again and again. She made him want her more and more.

  Which brought him back to the reason he was standing there like a sap, with a bunch of fancy flowers in his hand.

  He knew that she wasn’t keen on hooking up with a Marine. So maybe he should back off right now, before things got even more serious than they were.

/>   He didn’t know. He’d never thought long-term before.

  He only knew he wanted to be with her, wanted her in his arms, wanted her lips beneath his. And he also knew it was more than just lust at work here. There was something else…

  But being a guy, he wasn’t real eager to put a label on it.

  His mom had already given him the third degree when she’d stopped by King Oil earlier in the day. She’d also told him that her time in Texas was over, that it was time for her to move on. She’d made her peace with Striker’s dad, and with her own father, visiting the cemetery to pay her last respects.

  But before she’d left, she’d grilled Striker about Kate. She’d ended the conversation saying, “I would like to have grandkids before I get too old to enjoy them. Which means you’d have to get married first.”

  Married? To Kate? The image wasn’t as scary as it should have been.

  Enough. This was getting him nowhere. He needed to take action. His knock on her door was loud enough to qualify as a pounding.

  The second Kate opened the door and Striker stepped inside, he shoved the flowers at her with one hand while tugging her into his arms with the other.

  Two thoughts hit him. 1) That she was where she belonged. 2) He was glad he hadn’t bought her roses or the thorns would be digging into both of them as they kissed.

  Kate vaguely knew that some sort of floral arrangement was being crushed between them. She could smell carnations as she tasted Striker’s passion. The tangled web of passion enveloped her as surely as his arms enveloped her. His kiss evoked an intimacy that was both sensuous and tender. He’d claimed her mouth as if it were the cup of life to be drained to the end.

  The passion built as one kiss blended into another, his tongue mating with hers. He was a master of the endless kiss. This was no teasing flirtation. This was total possession. His kiss became hotter, deeper, sweeter.

  Fireworks, bells ringing, alarms going off…

  Wait, that was a real alarm. Her smoke alarm. Her dinner!

  Kate pulled away and rushed into the kitchen where smoke was bellowing from the grill where she’d had two steaks cooking. They were now charred beyond recognition.

  “I like my meat well-done,” Striker drawled, “but not quite that well-done.”

  She turned on him. “This is your fault. You distracted me.”