by JC Harroway
‘I’m not taking the promotion.’
The blows buffeted her—she’d have vertigo soon. ‘What? It’s what you’ve always wanted.’
Even before she’d stopped speaking, he was shaking his head. ‘My family is the most important thing. Jane wants to move closer to her parents, extra helping hands, you know. And If I take the promotion, we’ll have to move to Aldershot.’
‘But you’ve worked so hard.’ Unthinkable.
He jutted his chin forward, a stubborn twist to his mouth, one she knew so well. ‘I want to see my kids grow up. Jane needs me home more.’ He glanced sideways, eyes assessing. ‘I want you to be the first person I’ve told—I’m turning it down.’
Turning down a promotion he’d wanted his whole career? The world slowed, juddering on its axis as Eden’s brain tried to make sense of this information. She’d guessed it couldn’t be easy for Jane with two small girls and a husband who worked long hours. But to turn his back on his dream?
Icy fingers clawed at the back of her neck. ‘What will you do?’ Almost a whisper.
‘Beacon Barracks are looking for a recruiter. Training is a good fit for me. I can be static and it’s only twenty miles from Jane’s parents.’
‘I don’t know what to say …’ The vertigo she’d feared moments ago seemed to have taken hold now, the car’s interior spinning.
‘There’s nothing to say. It’s time for a new direction. It’s not just about the money and the status. I’ve been thinking about this for a year or so.’
‘You have? Why haven’t you said anything before now?’ Surely the world was about to end? ‘Does Dad know?’
‘No. He’ll understand though—If he hadn’t been a single parent, he’d have done the same. The army was the only thing he knew how to do, and with Mum gone …’
Eden, stunned silent, fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.
‘Hey, don’t worry, Captain. You’ll still have to salute me.’ Tom elbowed her, coaxing her out of her funk. ‘So tell me about this Ruby lot? Any brother-in-law candidates? Want me to come into the terminal and meet them, suss out any unsavoury types?’
She rolled her eyes. Growing up, Tom had been the ultimate cock-blocker. Her footing stabilised with the normality of his jibes.
‘I know—you don’t need me to fight your battles, but it’s part of the big brother code. And I never liked that arsehole, Mac.’ Tom clenched his jaw, his mouth grim.
In a rare burst of candour, Eden said, ‘I think I’m too messed up for relationships.’
Tom snorted, focused on taking the slip road onto the M1 motorway.
Eden reached for the radio. ‘Let’s have music.’
Before she could fill the car with sound, avoiding any further conversation, Tom’s hand covered hers, swatting her fingers away from the buttons. ‘Broken. C’mon, Kid. Spill.’
Over the long, music-free drive to Heathrow, Eden did just that.
* * *
The hotel in Elko, Nevada, featured almost three hundred and sixty degrees of spectacular views of the mountains. The group gathered at the pool for a welcome BBQ and pre-challenge briefing, which included an itinerary for the next few days of training and heat acclimatisation. With buoyant spirits, people chatted, relaxed and swam while T-bone steaks sizzled, filling the warm desert air with mouth-watering scents.
Eden’s skin prickled. Her long-sleeve top could be to blame, but she was used to that. No, the unease creeping beneath her skin couldn’t be solved by a cold shower or the air-conditioned interior of her hotel room.
Like two or three others, Dan swam vigorous laps of the pool, his long rangy body slicing up the pristine blue water, taunting her with what she couldn’t have. What she hadn’t thought she wanted.
In the five days since the humiliating incident at his home, she’d made no contact with him, nor had any from him. Even during the thirteen hours of travelling time from Heathrow, they’d resolutely avoided each other, glancing quickly away whenever their eyes met, which was often.
She’d tried to decipher his feelings towards her, seeing no evidence of anger or even censure. Unfortunately, desire or mere interest were sadly lacking in his expression too. It was as if he’d done with her. His glances, when she’d intercepted them, were polite, of course. A minute twitch of his lips, the smile never quite reaching his eyes, a flick of his eyebrows and, on one occasion, a heartbreaking little grimace that stole all her air.
He was done with her. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d brought herself to this point by the way she’d treated him. The way she’d pushed him away. The way she’d failed to come to terms with her injuries. It’s what she’d thought she wanted.
But …
She missed him. Not just the idea of him, which was appealing enough. But the real him. The thoughtful, caring, compassionate him. The charming, sexy, attentive him. The funny, upbeat, relaxed him. It was difficult to admit she wasn’t as self-reliant as she thought, but he calmed her, made her feel lighter somehow. And hell if she didn’t need a little lightness in her life.
Tom’s declaration had thrown her world view into even greater confusion and turmoil, as if all she’d ever known crumbled beneath her feet like the desert sand. She couldn’t blame her brother for putting his family first, and he’d seemed genuinely at peace with his decision. But where did that leave her? Rudderless, reeling, her very foundations rocked to the core. But why? Why was Tom taking a sideways career step for his family so unsettling? How much of her own ambition was based in following his lead? The ultimate act of sibling rivalry or hero worship gone mad? She was a mess.
Eden sipped a cool glass of iced water, the chill cooling her insides, tamping down the flight of her jumbled thoughts. Her body craved the reprieve the pool would provide from the relentless Nevada sun almost as much as it craved Dan and his drugging kisses. She’d never felt more alive than when she’d been pressed against his wall, clinging, devouring, soaring. Instinct told her he’d be a phenomenal lover, if she’d ever made it that far. But she’d ruined it with her hang-ups and her …
Just face it, Archer.
Her fear.
She hated her fear, almost as much as she hated her injury. Both had already taken so much from her. Eden shifted on her lounger. She’d deliberately settled on the one next to where Dan had dropped his towel before diving into the pool. Time to be brave. At the very least, she owed Dan more of an explanation than she’d offered that night she’d fled his house.
After two more lengths, he pulled himself from the pool, shaking the water from his eyes and slicking back his hair. Like something from a soft-drink ad. Eden’s mouth dried, her eyes tracing the rivulets of water over taut muscle and golden skin.
Halfway across the terrace, he spotted her, his confident stride faltering for a split second before he gifted her one of his open, neutral smiles and kept on walking. He hated her. She’d caused him enough grief with her hang-ups and her vicious tongue. She’d pushed him away, accused him of … She swallowed, her throat so tight she could barely breathe.
As he approached, she reached for his towel, offering it to him with a small uncertain smile. ‘How’s the water?’ She’d meant the pool, but by the way it trickled down his body, she’d say delicious just about covered it.
Dan took the towel, his grin widening and taking his dimples with it. ‘Spectacular. You’re not tempted?’ He towelled off roughly then scooped up a T-shirt and covered his magnificent torso.
Shame.
That’s when she noticed his ring finger on his left hand.
The blood whooshed from her head in a roar that left her spinning. He’d taken off his wedding ring.
What did it mean?
To swim?
Or for some other reason?
A swell bubbled up in her chest, threatening to steal her voice.
‘No … I … yes, I am.’
She’d brought a long-sleeved rash top with her, but she’d chickened out at the last minute, stuffing it back in
side her backpack as if it was contaminated. Emily, the only other woman on the challenge, wore a stunning one-piece swimsuit and a sarong. Eden didn’t want another reason to stand out. Better to cover up, hide beneath her clothing. Still scared.
Dan lowered himself to the lounger next to hers and leaned his head back on his clasped hands, his gaze flitting across their group to the mountains behind. They sat in surprisingly comfortable silence. But then Dan was the consummate antidote for awkward. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he would smooth things over between them. For her.
‘I took it off.’ His quiet confession broke the still. ‘The time felt right.’ He turned, flicking a cautious look at her from beneath his long, still-damp lashes.
At first she thought she’d hallucinated, his hushed words so unexpected, she must have misheard. Her blood pounded, deafening her further with the thrum in her ears.
When she didn’t respond, he flicked his eyebrows up, a half shrug lifting one broad shoulder. ‘I saw you notice my hand. I … It feels right.’
His eyes sparkled in the setting sun, weaving a path into her soul. Her breath stalled in her chest as she shuffled through her catalogue of thoughts for something to say. But Dan didn’t need to hear her thoughts or opinions. He’d been courageous enough to question his own status quo and make a change, no matter how inconsequential or momentous. He’d done it. Done something. For himself. For his own emotional journey to recovery.
Eden nodded, her head too heavy for her shoulders, and Dan looked away again, back to the view. ‘Fancy one of those steaks, Archer? You’re gonna need the protein for training tomorrow—no jet-lag excuses, remember?’ He stood. His swim shorts, still wet, dripped water down his lean muscular legs.
His hand was there, outstretched towards her, offering her everything and seemingly nothing more than something from the grill.
Be brave.
She took it, her spirit lifting with her body from the lounger as Dan’s warm, calloused fingers embraced hers, drawing her towards the group.
* * *
Passing out seemed inevitable.
Eden’s swallow scraped her dry throat. A sheen of perspiration slicked her palms.
Don’t chicken out now.
She lifted a shaky hand, the rap of her knuckles so loud in the deserted corridor, she expected every door to fly open to witness her … humiliation? Or perhaps redemption? She was done second-guessing.
Dan answered, wearing nothing more than a pair of cotton sleep shorts. His eyebrows lifted, genuine bewilderment flitting across his face. But no one was more surprised than her that she stood in his doorway past midnight on their first night in America.
They’d parted ways an hour ago, after the meal on the pool terrace. Had he been asleep? His hair was a little crazy, but he didn’t seem too groggy. Good. She needed him with her on this.
‘Hi.’ Her voice a hoarse whisper. ‘Invite me in?’ The needy catch to her breath seemed to echo for miles.
Wordlessly, he held open the door and she ducked under his arm before she had a chance to change her mind or he thought better of inviting her inside.
His room was a carbon copy of hers. He deserved something flashier. Although Dan was a no-frills kind of guy.
‘You okay?’ He hovered near the closed door. As at sea as her? Doubtful.
What could she say?
No, but I want to be.
You can help me be as brave as you are.
Catch me before I collapse.
His brows dipped over worried eyes, but he moved closer, his hand finding hers in a reassuring squeeze.
Dan. So giving. So caring. How could she explain? The words died before the neuronal impulses even left her brain.
Show him.
Sucking in a huge breath, she stepped back half a pace, her hand slowly slipping from the comfort of his, which fell to his side with a minute droop of his shoulders. Before he could grab the wrong end of the stick, or worse, kick her out, she heeled off her sandals, her toes curling into the deep pile of the carpet, an anchor.
Those charming little lines that flanked his mesmeric eyes appeared as he frowned.
Swallowing down the jitters, Eden did something she rarely did outside of the privacy of her own home. Slowly, deliberately, she pushed her hands from the confines of her long sleeves. Both of them.
Her heart ricocheted around her chest wall. Dan’s mouth softened, but his stare remained wary. Watchful. And, blessedly, he stayed silent.
She couldn’t have explained the tumult of feelings raging through her then. It was time to be as brave as him. Time to stop hiding and second-guessing and fearing fear itself.
Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, Eden pushed the fabric over her hips and sent the garment billowing to the floor. She kicked it away with one foot and then, sucking in a bolstering breath, gripped the hem of her shirt in jelly-like fingers.
As if sensing her intentions, Dan stepped forward, his earnest face twisted with anguish and understanding as he cupped her cheek in a warm caress. ‘You don’t have to.’ His words whispered over her; a balm, bolstering her resolve. Her courage.
She nodded, eyes burning, the scrape of his palm on her cheek tingling her nerve endings alive. ‘Shhh. I do.’ She took a step back, withdrawing from the searing warmth and unconditional support of his touch. ‘I want to.’ She needed to be strong. Fear held her back. She could do this. For herself.
Dan’s chest lifted and fell in short, rapid pants as she tugged her top over her head in a rather ungainly fashion. But she didn’t care. This wasn’t a seductive striptease. She didn’t have to seduce him, or perform. Dan would understand the symbolism of her awkward display.
By the time she’d shaken her head free of the fabric and her hair out of her face, and was naked apart from her underwear before him, Dan’s shorts tented with his arousal and raw emotion spilled form his watchful eyes. Eyes that stayed riveted to hers. Eyes that spoke silent encouragement from the intricate beauty of his irises.
She knew what he’d see if he glanced lower. Her left arm, left breast and left side of her chest and abdomen puckered with scars, the worst areas also irregular from the various skin grafts she’d undergone. But he didn’t look, and rather than freak out, interpreting his lack of curiosity as fear or revulsion, Eden continued. She wasn’t done.
Trembling now, she lifted both hands to the front clasp of her bra. Despite being easier than the back fastenings, it took several moments for her loosen the catch. This was the prettiest bra she owned, a depressing cotton affair, free of frills but easily fastened and unfastened. She shrugged the straps from her shoulders, tossed it and then quickly dispensed with her bland, matching panties.
Exposed. The word had never meant more. Her breaths gusted from her, and boiling heat suffused the skin of her chest and neck, but she held Dan’s stare, analysing every nuance of his expression. She could take it, whatever his reaction might be.
Look, Dan. Look at me.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple lifting. His stare trailed a deliberate slow path to her toes and back, every place his eyes paused prickling with heat. He showed her, in those moments. Showed her the truth of his words from five nights ago. He didn’t care. He didn’t see the scars, or he saw them and thought she was beautiful anyway.
Even so, her arms twitched to cover her nakedness as the slow seconds ticked by, each one a gunshot in her head. Just when she feared her instincts wrong, feared she’d waited too long, held back by her anxiety, pushed him away one time too many, he came to her, scooping his thick arms around her back and crushing her to his broad chest.
Skin to skin.
Mouth to mouth.
Within seconds she was under him on the bed, her hands tearing frantically at the shorts that kept him from her. She talked past his nibbling kisses. ‘Dan, I need you.’
Naked desire burned in his stare. His eyelids fluttered closed as he dipped his head to her right breast, encasing her unscarred nipple
in warm, moist suction. She gasped, her head swimming as she forgot to breathe through sheer ecstasy.
Why had she feared this? Dan wasn’t Mac or any other man she knew. He was honest and compassionate and … so sexy.
Dan palmed her breast while he sucked, his cheeks hollow and his tongue laving wildly. When he slipped his hand between her legs, his fingers joining his tongue in rhythmic strokes, she clung to him, her nails gouging at his upper arms and shoulders.
He pulled back, his lips shiny and his eyes hooded. ‘I was right. Your taste was worth the wait.’ He slanted his mouth over hers once more, his expert fingers now toying with her rapidly cooling nipple.
She was close. Unbelievably, when he’d done little more than kiss her. But he wasn’t done. Tearing his mouth from hers, he shifted from the bed, kneeling on the floor and dragging her backside towards the edge. He stared unashamedly, lust transforming his face into something close to barbaric. Slowly and deliberately, he spread her legs wide, hooking both his arms under her trembling thighs.
Eden’s world splintered as he covered her sex with his warm, greedy mouth, his tongue quickly locating her clit, treating it to the same mind-blowing attention her nipple had received.
She loved that he didn’t treat her with kid gloves. That he was greedy for her and took what he wanted. She wasn’t fragile. She could take his passion because it matched hers for him.
She writhed, the sensations spiralling out from her core too big for her to remain still. Anchoring her fingers in his hair in case she soared up off the bed, she held on tight as Dan once more found her sensitive nipple with his talented fingers.
She had no time to enjoy the view of his mouth on her. She came quickly, her back arching off the bed, almost dislodging the source of such overwhelming pleasure from between her thighs. But Dan fought her, keeping his mouth glued to her until the last drops of rapture were rung from her shattered body.
Wow.
Her only coherent thought popped up from her short-circuited brain. Please let there be more.
Dan stood. Gloriously naked, pride gleaming from his flushed face. ‘I have condoms this time.’ His erection strained before him and Eden licked her lips, her lazy, sated smile joining his triumphant one.
