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The Soldier & The Spy

Page 8

by Samantha Sommersby


  She stretched out, lazily. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  Jackson lifted her limp arm into the air, placed his fingers over her pulse point, and shook his head. “You still have a pulse. You’re still here, still mine. My lord, you’re beautiful.” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her tenderly.

  Lillian smiled lazily. “I’m sweaty and sticky.”

  “But in a good way.” Jackson sat up and blew a cool stream of air down the length of her body.

  “I’d like to rinse off, but I’m not sure I can move.”

  “Thirsty?”

  “Terribly.”

  Jackson reached for the water bucket that Jemal had left for them. He scooped up a fresh cup of water and held it to Lillian’s lips, encouraging her to drink her fill before taking some himself.

  “I want to hear about your life back in Boston. I want to know everything about you.”

  Lillian laid back down and released a contented sigh. “My life is boring. I teach, I eat, I sleep.”

  Jackson poured a bit of water into a shallow bowl, dipped a clean towel into it, and then wrung out the excess. He handed the cloth to Lillian. “No boyfriend? No lover?”

  “Usually that’s the kind of thing a man asks before the wedding.”

  Jackson nodded, then averted his gaze.

  “There’s no boyfriend. No lover.” She pressed the cool cloth against the back of his neck, and then ran in down the length of his back. “I meant it when I said there’s only you.”

  Jackson’s head lowered. “You go back once your mission is accomplished. Is that the deal?”

  “Yes. I bet I could get you out, too.”

  “I’m a soldier, love. It doesn’t work that way.”

  “It could.”

  “You’re an optimist.”

  Lillian shrugged. “I love happy endings.”

  “Me too, love,” agreed Jackson. “Me too.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lillian stretched like a lazy cat as she woke up, one arm reaching out, searching for her lover. She opened her eyes when she found only air. For a brief moment, she feared it had all been a dream. But she was still in the same tent, their tent. Only at the moment she was alone in it. Lillian climbed out of the bed and walked over to the entrance. Just as she was reaching out to push aside the flap and peer outside it opened wide.

  Lillian gasped, jumped back, and attempted to cover her nudity with her hands.

  “Well, hello!” Jackson openly raked his gaze over her body.

  Lillian turned around and leaned over to pick up her robe.

  “No!”

  “No?” Lillian held up the robe, shielding herself from his gaze.

  “No.” Jackson stepped closer. “Stay like you are. You’re perfect.”

  “Is that coffee?” Lillian dropped her robe.

  “Yes.”

  Lillian reached for one of the tin cups. “I would kill for a cup of coffee!”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” Jackson lifted it just out of reach. “For a price,” he whispered leaning forward.

  As his lips met hers he sighed. The kiss was slow and sensual. Just when she thought he was going to deepen it, he pulled back.

  “Here you go, love.” He held out the coffee.

  “What is it?”

  “I thought we went through that. It’s coffee.”

  “I know it’s coffee. Something’s wrong, I can feel it.”

  Jackson’s silence spoke volumes.

  “Don’t shut me out. Please?”

  “Maybe you should put your robe on, pet. We need to talk, think.”

  “You can’t think while I’m naked?” Lillian molded her body to his back and slipped one arm around his waist.

  “Not very well, I’m afraid. Fatima will be coming along shortly with some food and…”

  “And?”

  Jackson turned around and met her gaze. “Something. I talked with her this morning and asked her for something to prevent you from getting pregnant.”

  Lillian’s stomach lurched. She could feel herself begin to blush. She turned away, set her coffee down, retrieved her robe, and pulled it over her head.

  “I understand.”

  “I’m not sure you do, love.”

  “You’re right, of course. We should be taking some precautions.”

  “Lillian, you want to know what I was thinking when I kissed you just then?” Jackson set his coffee aside and walked over to her. “I was thinking about how lost I’ve been. And how, after so many years I’ve finally found home. Here in the desert. In this foreign country, in the middle of a bloody war, in the arms of a woman I barely know, I’ve found home. If things were only different—”

  “But they’re not.”

  “No, they’re not,” he solemnly agreed. “I’m frightened.”

  “Frightened of what?”

  “Of losing this feeling I have when I’m with you. Of getting distracted, getting killed, getting you killed. I couldn’t bear that.” Jackson ran his hand through his hair.

  Lillian swallowed down the lump in her throat, then lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “We may not have another chance. This could be it. Period.”

  “Sweetheart, you remember what it was like, don’t you? You saw how they fight, the Turks. They’re ruthless. They would run you through without a second thought. It wouldn’t matter that you’re a woman. It wouldn’t matter if you had a child in your belly.”

  Jackson laid his hand, protectively over her womb.

  “I don’t want to worry about you. I’ve got to keep my edge. Thoughts of puppies and flowers and babies and love, those aren’t going to help me do what I need to do. They aren’t going to help me finish this mission, focus on the kill.”

  Lillian heard the longing in his voice and weighed his words. Regrettably, she knew he spoke the truth. “You’re right, of course. We’ve got to stay focused.”

  “Yes.” Jackson lowered himself onto the pallet. “We’ve got to stay focused.”

  Lillian choked back the bitter tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. “The mission is what matters, right?”

  “Right.” Jackson nodded, at first avoiding her gaze. “I want you to go. I want you to go back to America at the earliest opportunity.”

  “What? No!” Lillian sat next to him. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am.”

  “I won’t go.” She reached out and caressed the side of his face. “I came here for a reason. I have a stake in this too.”

  “We’re on the same side. Let me—”

  “I won’t leave you.”

  He batted her hand away. “I can’t protect you! Don’t you understand?”

  “I’m a good shot. I can protect myself.”

  “A good shot,” Jackson scoffed.

  Lillian climbed to her feet, her face flushed. “Well, I am.”

  Without warning, Jackson swept her legs out from under her. Lillian fell flat on her back, the wind rushing from her lungs. Before she could take a breath, he had her pinned, a knife to her throat.

  “Now what?”

  Jackson’s brow furrowed. “You agree to go home?”

  Lillian smiled. “No. Tell me what to do. I watched you fight Ahmed. Teach me to fight, to use a sword.”

  “No, absolutely not!” Jackson tossed the knife aside and rolled off her.

  “You said it yourself, the Turks are ruthless killers and you might not be able to protect me. If we’re engaged in battle and they come after me, I want to go down fighting. Those women in the village were like lambs at a slaughter. I can’t bare the thought of my life ending like that, can you?”

  Jackson understood and hung his head in defeat. “All right. You win, for now. This is against my better judgment, I’ll have you know.”

  Lillian threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips.

  He frowned. “You’re insufferable. You know that, don’t you?”

  “But you love me.”
/>   Jackson shook his head. “Lord help me, it’s true.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the voice of Fatima, calling from outside the tent.

  “Come in,” Lillian said, opening the tent-flap.

  “No, no!” Fatima passed her a large bowl of stewed meat and rice, and some fresh bread. “For you. You need to keep your strength up.”

  “Thanks!”

  “And this is for you, too.” She handed Lillian a small, wrapped package. “I could show you how to—”

  Jackson reached out to intercept the small package. “That won’t be necessary, Fatima. We can manage. Thank you,” he said before closing the flaps of the tent.

  Lillian looked down at the package in his hand. “What is it?”

  Jackson didn’t answer. Instead, he sat down on the pallet and patted the space beside him. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

  Lillian joined him, placing the bowl of food and bread between them. She reached in and using her fingers grabbed a small portion of the stewed meat and rice mixture, and then offered Jackson a bite.

  “Smells good. How is it?”

  “Good.” He shrugged. “Not quite as tasty as you—”

  “Jackson!”

  He laughed. It seemed genuine, heartfelt and the sounds warmed her from the inside.

  “Is sex all you ever think about?”

  “Of course not! I think of plenty of things, lots of things all of the time that have nothing to do with sex. As a matter-of-fact, just the other day I spent a great deal of time thinking about how I was going to kick Ahmed’s arse. Spent all night thinking strategy, planning my attack, ensuring my win so that when it was all over I could bring you back here and…”

  He grabbed Lillian about the waist, and then lowered her down onto the pallet. His lips covered hers in a passionate kiss. As his tongue stroked hers, he heard her moan.

  “I want you to make love to me,” she gasped when he finally pulled back.

  “We’re playing with fire,” he whispered against her neck. “We keep shagging like rabbits we’re going to—”

  Lillian reached down and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock. “You’re already hard for me.”

  “Always hard for you, love.” Jackson licked the outside shell of her ear. “I want us to use the cap that Fatima brought.”

  “Cap?”

  Jackson continued to kiss and lick her ear and neck. “Uh-huh, we’ve just got to slip it in. I can help you. It’ll cover the tip of your cervix, and prevent you from conceiving. Well, leastways she says it does most of the time.”

  Lillian started to feel a wave of irrational panic sweep over her. “Is it safe?”

  “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was safe.” Jackson leaned up to look at her. “It’s what most of the women use.”

  Lillian turned her head to the side and looked away from him.

  But Jackson moved so that he could once again look her in the eyes. His forehead wrinkled in concentration as he studied her. “It’s just not working.”

  “What’s not working?”

  “My ability to read your thoughts. You’re going to have to help me out here.”

  “What if I’m already pregnant? Would that be so terrible?”

  “You want to be pregnant?” Jackson scrambled off her, backing away until he was on the far edge of the small tent. “Lillian, be reasonable.”

  “Do you love me?” She rose to her feet, placing her hands on her hips.

  “That’s not the point!”

  “Answer the question!”

  “Yes. Are you prepared for me to die? For you to have to raise a child by yourself, an unmarried woman?”

  “No.” She fell to her knees in front of him. “Because I’m not an unmarried woman. Am I?”

  “I’m sorry. No. You’re not. You’re my wife as long as we’re here. But you know that this marriage isn’t real.”

  She flinched and pulled back.

  “Don’t, please! Let me finish.”

  She shook her head vehemently and turned away.

  “Look at me!” Jackson reached for her.

  “No!” She slapped his hand away. But she couldn’t stop there. “No!” she cried over and over as she slapped him across his face, then began to hit him about his chest and shoulders. “How could you do this to me? I hate you! How could you do this? How could you make me fall in love with you!”

  “You think I planned this? You think this is what I wanted? Christ, Lillian, I look at you and I start to think it’s all fucking possible.” Jackson took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Sweetheart, I’d love nothing more than to stay in this fantasy. I’d love to be free of this place, of the war. Find a cozy little cottage down by the sea with a white picket fence around it. Honest, I would.”

  Lillian released a gasp. It was someplace between a sob and a laugh. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Jackson pulled her to him, wrapping his arms securely around her. “Shh.” He rocked her back and forth. “Hush, now. Don’t cry, love.”

  “This isn’t a fantasy, Jackson. These feeling I have, they’re real. They’re real to me. I didn’t ask to fall in love with you.”

  Jackson smiled ruefully. “Thought you hated me?”

  “That too.”

  Jackson raised an eyebrow.

  “What can I say? I’m complicated.” Lillian brushed the tears from her face then laid back down on the pallet. “We need a plan.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Okay, how’s this? First, we get Abdulla’s cooperation, then turn this camp into an army, start out for Aqaba, recruit more potential soldiers along the way, kick some Ottoman ass, and save the day.”

  “Just like that?”

  “You have a better plan?”

  Jackson shook his head. “Not at the moment, no. Truth be told, that was my general plan, too. It’s just the details are still too fuzzy for my liking.”

  “We’ll figure out the details,” Lillian assured him.

  “Promise if something happens to me, that you’ll get out, leave Arabia?”

  “I promise,” vowed Lillian. “Promise me that nothing is going to happen to you.”

  Jackson looked away. “Nothing but death will keep me from you, I can promise you that. And if I die, I will watch over you, every second of every day and throughout every night.”

  “I don’t want you watching over me, Jackson. I want you with me, your arms wrapped around me, your body connected to mine.” She looked him in the eye. “I don’t want to use the cap, Jackson.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “You want to have a child?”

  “I want to have your child. And yes, I’m prepared to raise it on my own, if necessary.”

  “I knew you were going to be trouble for me.” Jackson slowly lowered his lips towards hers.

  Chapter Eight

  Lillian was leaning up against the saddle of the camel, on top of a simple woolen blanket that had been spread over the sand. Jackson stretched out beside her, his head resting comfortably in her lap.

  “It’s getting really dark, Jackson. Don’t you think we should be heading back?”

  “No. I want to keep you to myself. Tomorrow night is the feast. If we’re successful, the next week is going to be tough, all about training and mobilizing. If everything goes according to plan we could be in Aqaba in one, maybe two weeks.”

  “That soon?”

  “With luck, we may not get a chance to escape like this again for…a very long time.” Jackson waved his arm towards the vast landscape stretching out in front of them. “I want to have this memory, a night of making love to you under the stars.”

  “You’re a romantic.”

  Jackson leaned up on his elbows and looked out into the night, concentrating for a moment. Once satisfied that the sounds he heard were animals in the distance he reclined back and relaxed.

  “That’s top secret, by the way, love. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. Most folks thin
k I’m a badass. Can’t have them thinking I’ve gone all soft now, can I?”

  “A badass, huh?” Lillian leisurely traced the line of his jaw with the edge of her finger.

  He leaned into her touch. “You want any more food?”

  “No, thanks. Should we add more to the fire?”

  “Let’s let it die out. We’ll get a better look at the stars.” Jackson yawned.

  “Someone’s sleepy.”

  “Seems you’ve about worn me out.”

  “Aw, is the big bad soldier all tired? Did the teeny weenie wittle girl hurt him?”

  Jackson smiled mischievously. “I’ve got a little more energy left.” He reached up and began to fondle Lillian’s breast, letting the weight of it settle in the palm of his hand.

  “Speaking of stars. Look at that one!” Lillian pointed up at the sky.

  “That’s Sirius. The ancient Egyptians called it the ‘dog star’, after their god Osirus. Its arrival in the night sky was thought to mark a time of fertility and new life.” Jackson placed his hand on Lillian’s stomach.

  “New life?”

  He shrugged. “You never know.”

  They passed a few minutes in comfortable silence.

  “Jackson?”

  “Hmmm?” He sat up and shifted so that he leaned over her.

  “Will you teach me that move you used on Ahmed?”

  “What move?”

  “I couldn’t tell what happened. One minute you were pinned underneath him, the next thing I knew it had turned into a fistfight.”

  Jackson climbed to his feet and walked a few feet away from her, his body barely outlined by the glow of the dying fire.

  “Mostly, I frightened him. Fear. It’s a great motivator.”

  “You frightened him? How?”

  “I held a knife to his balls, and threatened to make him a eunuch.”

  “A eunuch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you threatened—”

  “No.” Jackson turned around, walked back, and then crouched down beside her. “You don’t understand.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. “Threats are nothing but empty words. It was my conviction that frightened him, Lillian. When he looked into my eyes he knew, he knew I meant to do it.”

 

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