Chains of Command

by Lily Harlem

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2018 Lily Harlem

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-647-7

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: CA Clauson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To all the men and women who risk their lives to keep us safe.

  CHAINS OF COMMAND

  Lily Harlem

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  The pub Jenna Barlow had chosen was a couple of miles outside the English village of Brize Norton. It was one of those fake Tudor affairs, with two huge bay windows, a red tiled roof, and several wooden tables out the front. A glossy green sign by the door boasted three en suite guest rooms, the best steak pie in the county, and free WIFI for all customers.

  The pie and WIFI she was up for, the guest room she had no need of. As she sipped a half pint of lager, she thought of her quarters back at the barracks. Her living space was perfectly neat and functional and certainly better than she’d have for the next five months, but it didn’t call her to spend time there.

  Which was why she was here at The Dog and Duck, with her laptop, on her last night before active service.

  She hit send on a long email to her parents, telling them snippets of information about what movies she’d seen lately and how her best friend’s wedding plans were coming along. Melanie had discharged from the army two years ago when she’d found herself pregnant. That didn’t mean Jenna didn’t have contact with her often—she did, but it did mean she’d had to make new friends amongst the group of nurses she worked with. Which she had, of course she had. Living life on the edge did that, it made bonds strong. Melanie had always been there, though, since the first day they’d started their training and she’d never quite get used to not having her at her side.

  Tonight, however, Jenna didn’t want to be a nurse, or a serving member of the British Armed Forces. She wanted to be a girl, sitting in a bar, catching up on emails, and enjoying a few drinks without being hassled or getting ridiculously drunk.

  Despite being only April, the weather was warm, and feeling hot, she took off her pale pink cardigan and set it on the padded bench at her side. The furnishings at The Dog and Duck were a little tired. The green curtains to her left had two hooks missing which meant they hung askew, and the upholstery on the back of her chair was threadbare. Not that any of this bothered Jenna. She’d seen life turn to death in a heartbeat and that kept everything in perspective, a few stray threads and AWOL hooks didn’t bother her. There were more important things to worry about.

  Deciding on another drink, she glanced about. A couple sat at the table to her right. They’d had battered fish and chips delivered and it smelled delicious, despite the fact Jenna had already indulged in a pie. Beyond them were two older men taking their time over pints of treacle-colored ale. Other than that, the bar was fairly empty, though a few smokers loitered outside, and she could hear them talking along with the occasional car whizzing past.

  She deemed it fairly risk free to leave her laptop and cardigan at the table and headed to the bar. It was a horseshoe shape with central shelving partly obscuring the view to the opposite side of the large room.

  Waiting for the barman to spot her, she saw several other patrons. A group playing darts who, for a moment, could have been squaddies, but then she realized they were quite a bit older than her. Another female with thick-rimmed glasses and seated in the corner, spoke on a phone, and a guy with broad shoulders and jet-black hair which fell around his face, sat hunched at the bar with a bottle of beer.

  Her gaze lingered on him. His features were angular and his jawline was peppered with stubble. The black t-shirt he wore was frayed at the neckline, hugged his wide chest, and strained around his biceps.

  Suddenly his attention lifted from the label of his beer bottle which he’d been poking at and settled on her. He bit down on his bottom lip and drew his heavy eyebrows together as though studying her the way she had him.

  Jenna quickly looked away. Sure, she could appreciate a handsome guy, enjoy a few muscles, but she wasn’t interested in any more than that. Tomorrow she was heading out to Iraq to serve her country. There was no time for any romantic nonsense.

  The barman nodded at her empty glass. “Another?”

  “Please.” She smiled and made a point of not looking at the dark-haired stranger again.

  When her half-pint glass was full, she paid and returned to her seat. She’d compose an email to Melanie, fill her in on the gossip and find out what baby Jack wanted for his birthday. She’d miss it, of course, but she was used to missing important events. That’s how it was when life was dictated by superiors.

  And she was happy to do it.

  Before she sat, she retucked her white cotton shirt into her pale denim jeans and took a sip of her drink. A glance outside told her dusk was approaching and a street lamp flicked on. For a moment she paused and admired the shards of orange stretching like fingers over the sky. It would be the last English sunset she’d see for a while.

  Determined not to get melancholy, she flicked open her laptop and thought of Melanie. What would she like to hear about? Life at home with a baby was the polar opposite to how it had been and she craved all the details of Jenna’s life, or at least that’s what she said.

  “Would you like company?”

  Jenna looked up, then up some more. The guy from the opposite side of the bar was standing next to her table holding his bottle of beer.

  “I’m, er … busy actually.” She nodded at her screen. “Catching up, you know.”

  “Fair enough.” He shrugged. “Have a nice evening, ma’am.”

  He turned and she got a good view of a damn cute ass encased in tight dark jeans.

  “Wait.” Something about the way he’d said ma’am and had accepted her brush off with so little fight intrigued her. Men were usually considerably more insistent—long curly blonde hair and a curvy figure did that.

  He stopped, but didn’t turn.

  “I can catch up later.” She frowned at his back. What was she doing? She’d had her evening planned out, and then a handsome face, a set of broad shoulders, and she was throwing it all up in the air.

  “I wouldn’t want to disturb you.” He faced her again, but made no move to sit.

  “You already have.” She closed her computer and picked up her drink. “So you might as well carry on for a bit.”

  He chuckled and set his bottle on the table. “If you’re sure.”

  “Sit.” She nodded at the chair.

  He pulled it out. “I just figured as we’re the only two people in this grotty old place sitting alone, we could pass the time of day.”

  “It’s not that grotty.” She looked at the lampshade hanging above the table. A dust mote connected it to the ceiling and a ridge of grime sat on the rim.

  He pointed at the carpet. “First off, who the hell thought sickly yellow and putrid green went together, and then in a swirling pattern? Definitely not someone working on commission.”

  “You could be right.” It was true. The carpet was particularly horrible. “I had a pie, though, that was decent.”

  “Can’t argue.” He took a sip of his drink. “The pies are the only reason I come to this place.”


  “You think they really are the best in the county?”

  “The steak one, yes, the chicken and mushroom, I’m not so sure.”

  “Sounds like you know your pies.”

  “I like having a choice of what I’m going to eat.”

  His voice was deep and rumbling, she couldn’t quite place his accent because it wasn’t strong and he was well spoken. Oxford perhaps, or more likely local to Brize Norton.

  “I’m Seb by the way.”

  “Seb?”

  “Sebastian, but no one calls me that.”

  “Nice to meet you, Seb. I’m Jenna.”

  “And are you catching up with work or pleasure?” he asked, nodding at her laptop.

  “Pleasure.”

  He raised his eyebrows, just a fraction, as though the way she’d spoken the word pleasure had interested him.

  “Friends, emails, making contact with my parents who have finally come into this century and check their inbox and not just their answering machine.” Which was pleasurable, but not as much fun as watching Seb’s mouth move as he spoke. His lips were sensual and appeared soft and smooth. The outer edges tilted up a little as though he smiled often.

  “Ah, I get you.” He rubbed his hand over his stubble, creating a small grating sound. “Parents can be tricky creatures.”

  “Do yours live around here?”

  “No, they’re in Cambridge.”

  “But you live here?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “With work”

  He nodded and took another slug of his drink. There was a small popping sound as he pulled it away from his lips.

  “What do you do, Seb?”

  He hesitated, then, “People management, risk assessment, that’s sort of thing.”

  “Human resources.”

  “Kind of, yeah.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “It’s not really.” He drained his drink. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You from the local area?”

  “No, I’m from Gloucester, my parents still live there.”

  “Not too far.”

  “No, not really.”

  “So are you’re here with work?”

  “Yes, I’m a nurse.”

  He nodded. “Very commendable.”

  “Very tiring and a lot of hard work.” She laughed and relaxed back, drink in hand. Seb was easy to talk to and certainly easy on the eye. He had a slightly disheveled look about him despite his well-rounded vowels and obvious intelligence, as though he wasn’t in the least bit interested in his looks. She doubted he had a vain bone in his seriously hot body which made him all the more alluring.

  The conversation moved through the weather, the range of ales the pub sold and the music playing through small speakers attached to the wall. When Jenna had finished her drink, Seb nodded at her empty glass. “Can I buy you another?”

  She hesitated. This was a deciding moment. She could make her excuses and leave, send Seb on his way, or continue to enjoy his company for a while longer.

  What have I got to lose?

  Soon it would be work, work, work. She might as well have a hot bloke to chat to. It could even give her something to daydream about when she got to Iraq—if she ever had a free moment that was.

  “Sure. But a glass of red wine, please.” She set her palm on her stomach. “Too much beer makes me gassy.”

  He grinned and let his dark gaze slide down her body. “Wouldn’t want that.”

  He stood and walked to the bar and she silently berated herself for using the word ‘gassy’. She’d obviously spent too long hanging out with people who thought nothing of going into detail about bodily functions.

  It was dark outside and a small chill coming from the window had her reaching for her cardigan.

  Seb returned holding a bottle of red wine and two glasses. “I figured we’re both past driving,” he said. “So I bought a bottle, better value.”

  “Oh, okay.” Clever guy, he’d done more than buy a bottle, he’d bought at least two drinks with her. She had to admire his strategic planning of the evening.

  As Seb began to chat about a trek he’d done in the Welsh mountains, she wondered if he wanted more than a drink and her company. Was he hoping for a kiss … sex?

  And if so would she be up for it?

  “The Brecon Beacons sound isolated,” she said when he’d told her he’d walked all day without seeing another soul.

  “Yes, they are. Good for training.”

  “Training?”

  “Er, yeah.” He paused. “Fitness and that.”

  “You like to keep fit?”

  He smiled and took a sip of his wine. “I try.” He nodded at her drink. “Do you like the Malbec?”

  “Yes, it’s delicious. Fruity.”

  “Can’t go wrong with Argentinian red.”

  “You know your wines, Seb?”

  “A bit.”

  “Do you have a favorite? A type you always go for?”

  He leaned a little closer and his eyes sparkled. She caught a whiff of his slightly spiced cologne. “I like full-bodied, something with a rich, sensual flavor, long legs are always good, too, shows quality.” He licked his lips, leaving a slight sheen there, and appeared to hold back a grin.

  A small thrill tightened her stomach. A man who could indulge in a bit of intellectual banter had always appealed to her. “Long legs?”

  “Yes, on the side of the glass.” He held his up and swirled the wine. “Here, look, see these streaks. That’s the legs, shows alcohol content and quality.”

  “I learn something new every day.” She copied his action with her own glass and studied the stripes slipping downward.

  He took a sip of his wine and something flashed over his eyes as he stared into hers.

  She mimicked his action and held his eye contact.

  She’d bet good money he was thinking of sex—and that he was wondering about suggesting they get down and dirty together once they’d finished their drinks.

  Far from feeling offended that he thought she’d be up for a one-night stand, she appreciated being able to guess what he was thinking. He could have hidden it if he’d wanted to, but he hadn’t. Seb was clearly an upfront kind of guy. Told it as it was and what you saw was what you got.

  Much like her.

  Okay, so she hadn’t told him she was in the army, or that she was heading off the next day for several months on duty. But what did that matter? What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him or worry him.

  And the last thing she needed in her life was a man worrying about her. She had enough on her plate to contend with. Jenna was a woman in control of her own destiny and made her own choices.

  And right now, she hoped to soon be getting the chance to make a rather delicious choice regarding her nighttime entertainment.

  Chapter Two

  As the wine flowed, Seb chatted about his love of mountains and how he’d spent some time trekking to Everest Base Camp. He’d been frustrated when bad weather meant he couldn’t go farther, but still enjoyed his trip to the Himalayas. He talked of his love of animals, something they shared, and how he hoped to get another dog one day—he’d rescued a mongrel he’d found on the streets when he was a teenager and still missed his old friend.

  Jenna continued to avoid talking about the army, and certainly didn’t mention her imminent posting. Instead she told him about a trip she’d made to South America with Melanie several years ago to walk the Inca Trail, and a job she’d had at the local riding stables to earn pocket money when she was still at school.

  She couldn’t remember last enjoying a man’s company so much. He was articulate, intelligent, well-traveled and shared the same love of the outdoors as she did. Sitting in front of a TV screen binging on boxed sets wasn’t on her to-do list, neither was kicking back and letting life happen around her. Like Seb, she enjoyed pushing herself, taking on challenges and seeing the world.

  The win
e ran out, but their flow of chatter didn’t. It wasn’t until the landlord flicked off the bar lights and began to wipe the tables, Jenna noticed how late it was. “I should get going,” she said, glancing out at the dark night.

  “Yeah, me, too.” Seb stood, stretched his arms over his head and arched his back. His t-shirt lifted a fraction exposing a line of dark hair that ran from his navel to the waistband of his jeans.

  A flutter of desire settled between her legs. From what she could tell, her companion for the evening was the full package personality-wise and came with one hell of a fit body.

  A body she’d have no problem getting up close and personal with.

  She tore her eyes away and stood, enjoying the slightly floaty feeling the wine had given her. Perhaps he’d offer her a coffee back at his place. She couldn’t invite him to the barracks, that wasn’t the done thing. But a visit to his home, she’d be up for that.

  “Don’t forget your computer,” he said, nodding at her laptop which had sat ignored for the last couple of hours.

  “I won’t.” She slipped it into her bag.

  “Are you getting a cab home?” he asked.

  “No, I’ll walk.”

  “In the dark?” He frowned.

  “I can look after myself.”

  “Women shouldn’t walk about on their own this late at night.” He paused. “There’s all kinds of strange people out there.”

  She smiled and hitched the strap of her bag onto her shoulder.

  “I’ll walk with you,” he said.

  “No, really, I’ll be fine.”

  Ask me to your place, Seb.

  “No arguing, I’m seeing you safely home.” He set his hand on the small of her back and urged her through the door. “Night,” he called to the barman.

  “Ah, it’s raining.” She paused in the sheltered porch and studied the fine drizzle misting around the lampposts.

  “Do you have a coat?”