Cinderella and the Major

by VanRooy, Cynthia

  A corner of his mouth kicked up. “I think it looks damn good.”

  “No, I mean I was not trying to come on to you, Conn. Really. I thought I was going to be alone.”

  “I get that. Although it might have been fun the first way.”

  No might have been about it. He warned himself not to fall for another woman who had a thing for his uniform, given he wouldn’t be wearing it for much longer.

  “Do you still have your contacts in?”

  “No.”

  He tugged the covers down, pulling them from under Harmony. “Then get in bed.”

  “But the reunion . . .”

  “Babe, you can’t go like this. You’ve got some kind of bug that’s making the rounds. It’s short-lived but miserable. I had it last month. It’ll pass. But right now you can barely stay awake, and you’re running a fever.”

  “But I had such plans.” Tears welled in her turquoise eyes and her bottom lip quivered. She was killing him.

  He sat beside her and cradled her face in his hands. “I know, but passing out on the dance floor is not the impression you want to make.” He swiped the tears that spilled over with his thumbs and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Now be a good girl and get under the covers.”

  She voiced one last protest. “Wait. This is supposed to be your bed. The rollaway is for me.”

  “Harmony, really? You want to use up energy fighting about this?”

  “Okay, you win.” It was clear she’d already used up whatever energy she’d had.

  She slipped without further argument under the covers he held up and laid her head on the pillow with a tired sigh. He figured she was asleep again before he’d finished tucking the duvet around her.

  He straightened from the bed and returned to the dressing room to take off the uniform he’d put on minutes before, donning his jeans again. It was too early to worry about dinner yet so he turned on the television, keeping the volume low, and turned to a news program.

  Eventually his stomach reminded him lunch had been several hours earlier. He searched for the room service menu and found it on the desk with a list of the other hotel amenities. The steak sounded good, so he decided to treat himself. He debated ordering something for Harmony, but she probably needed the sleep more. He ordered quietly, watching Harmony for signs she was waking, but she slept on.

  When his dinner arrived, he settled at the table under the window to eat. He had almost finished the meal when Harmony roused. “Would you like me to order something for you?” he asked. “Maybe some soup?”

  She shook her head and held up her hand in a stop gesture as though even the thought of food was nauseating. She slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom, turning her face pointedly away from his plate. A few minutes later, she climbed back under the covers and appeared to be settled for the night.

  He set his room service tray out in the hall and broke out the best-selling detective novel he had brought along just in case he had spare time to fill. Now he’d probably finish it.

  When he started feeling sleepy he figured it was time to turn in. He peeled off his jeans and decided he was decent enough in his undershirt and boxers. He stood for a moment eyeing the rollaway, then the king-sized bed. The bed looked comfortable and roomy, even for two people. The rollaway, not so much.

  “Yeah, right.” Decision made, he turned out the light and drew back the covers on the opposite side of the big bed from Harmony.

  He was just sinking into sleep, his muscles relaxing into the mattress when he detected a faint noise he couldn’t identify. He frowned, concentrating for a moment, before he realized it was Harmony’s teeth chattering. Her fever was giving her chills.

  He sat up, grabbing the hem of his undershirt and pulled it over his head. “Harmony, sit up for a minute.”

  He grasped her shoulders, drawing her up, and dropped the shirt over her head, putting it on her like he was dressing a child. That done, he slipped her back under the covers and lay down close to her.

  “Come here.”

  She made a feeble attempt to push him away. “I don’t want you to catch this.”

  “I’ve already had it. I’m probably immune at this point. Now, come here.” He drew her against him and wrapped his arms around her, spooning her body into his.

  She gave up any resistance and snuggled close. “Mm, so warm,” she whispered gratefully through her chattering teeth.

  As he held her, he could feel her tight muscles begin to soften gradually. Her teeth stopped chattering and her breathing grew slower. The last of her muscle tension faded and she dropped into sleep with a soft sigh.

  He had been doing his best to ignore the effect of her butt pressed against his groin. Harmony may have been sound asleep, but Conn figured it was going to be a long time before the same could be said about him.

  Chapter Ten

  Harmony came awake to the sound of water running in the bathroom. Daylight leaked through the heavy draperies over the window. She had sketchy memories of sleeping wrapped in Conn’s arms, his warmth penetrating the chill.

  She assessed her condition. She felt better than when she had crawled into bed the night before, so that was progress. Apparently she would live. Her joints ached, though, and it seemed to require a lot of energy to hold her eyes open.

  She could hear Conn brushing his teeth. She was going to have to drag herself out of bed, get dressed and packed up. They were going back to San Diego this morning. She avoided thinking about what a bust the trip had been. It was all just too discouraging.

  Conn walked quietly back into the room, bare-chested and wearing jeans. Even her lack of energy couldn’t prevent the spark of attraction she felt at the sight.

  He glanced at her and seeing her eyes open, smiled. “Good morning. How do you feel?”

  She gave the question serious thought. “I’m not sure.” She sat up in bed and realized she was wearing his shirt. “Thank you for this,” she said, plucking at it.

  “No problem. Your own sleepwear didn’t seem up to the job. I was just about to order room service. Think you’re up to breakfast?”

  “Maybe something light?”

  He perused the menu on the desk. “Oatmeal sound okay? I’m going to have scrambled eggs.”

  She shuddered at the thought of eggs. “Oatmeal, I guess.” Coffee might be too much. “And some green tea.”

  While Conn placed their order, she ducked into the bathroom to use the facilities and gulp down a glass of water. She brushed her teeth and ran a warm washcloth over her face. Looking into the mirror, she shook her head at what she saw. She poked fingers through her hair, but gave up further primping. She had exhausted what energy she’d had. Since Conn was driving, maybe she could sleep on the way home.

  Back in the bedroom, light poured into the room from the now-uncovered window. The television was tuned to a morning news program, the volume low. She got back into bed and leaned back against the headboard, eyes closed. “Sorry I’m not up to sparkling conversation.”

  “I’m not looking to be entertained.” Amusement warmed his voice.

  “Good thing, huh?”

  At the knock on their door, Conn went to collect breakfast. He tipped the room service attendant, closed the door, and wheeled the cart into their room. He lifted one of the trays and set it on her lap.

  “Breakfast is served.”

  She viewed the bowl of oatmeal without enthusiasm. She needed to eat. She hadn’t had anything since noon the day before. She sprinkled brown sugar over the beige lump, poured milk from the small pitcher over the combination, and picked up the spoon.

  Conn sat at the small table digging into his own breakfast with what looked like enjoyment. The scent of coffee, normally something she savored, drifted to her and she wrinkled her nose slightly.

  She lifted the spoonful of oatmeal and put it in her mouth dutifully. She swallowed and scooped up another bite. Her stomach didn’t feel happy about the food. A sip of the cooling tea seemed to help s
ettle things down enough for a third spoonful.

  She set the teacup on the nightstand and was about to attempt a another spoonful of oatmeal, when she realized the little she had eaten was at risk of coming back up. A rush of saliva filled her mouth, and her jaws suddenly ached.

  She clamped her hand over her mouth, shoved the tray off her lap, and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She leaned over the toilet just in time, tossing up the meager contents of her stomach. She continued to heave as Conn knocked forcefully on the door.

  “Harmony?”

  “Do not come in.” She coughed and spit again. “I’m okay.”

  “Yeah, I can tell,” he said, tone sardonic.

  By the time her stomach was finally empty, she felt wrung out. She wobbled to the sink and rinsed her mouth several times before finally opening the door. Conn stood propped against the doorframe, arms crossed. He straightened and looked closely at her, a frown creasing his brow.

  “That shirt has more color than you do. Get back in bed.”

  “I’d argue with the autocratic tone, but I don’t feel well enough.” She brushed by him and did exactly what he had ordered.

  He came out of the dressing room fastening the button-down shirt he had been wearing when they arrived. He was also wearing shoes. She lifted her head. “What are you doing?”

  “You don’t want to spend over three hours riding in the car, and I’m certainly not going to just drop you off at home to fend for yourself. I’m going down to the front desk to extend our reservation until tomorrow. With the reunion over, I don’t think there’ll be a problem.”

  He fastened the last shirt button. “Can you contact the neighbor who’s taking care of your cat, and let him or her know you’re going to be another day?”

  She wanted to protest that it wasn’t necessary, that she would be fine leaving today, but she was too grateful not to have to. “Okay.”

  “I won’t be long.”

  “Take your time. I’ll be here.” She reached for her phone and sent a quick text, then dropped her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes.

  When she opened them again, the first thing she noticed was that the quality of the light was different. The room was bathed in the rosy glow of a setting sun. Immediately after that observation was the realization that she felt well. She lay for a moment enjoying the sensation. No chills or nausea, no overwhelming fatigue.

  She pushed herself up cautiously, but the sense of wellbeing persisted. Perhaps whatever she’d caught had run its course. She noticed the silence of the suite and wondered where Conn was.

  She threw back the bedding and went to use the bathroom. That was when she found the note he had left propped against the faucet letting her know he had gone to the hotel fitness center for a workout. He assured her he had his phone with him if she needed anything and had jotted his number down as a reminder.

  Was it possible to fall completely in love with someone that quickly? She’d already been halfway there before he’d held her all night. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so coddled and cared for, or feeling so secure in someone’s company.

  But secure was not at all the same thing as safe. There was something too exciting, too tempting, too I-dare-you for it to be called safe. She had never felt more aware of being a woman. And now that she was feeling better by the minute, it might be time to indulge that awareness.

  Perhaps the weekend didn’t have to be a total waste. She wouldn’t threaten the space Conn claimed to want, just present him with another option.

  A stack of clean towels rested on the bathroom counter, testament to Conn’s efficiency. He must have put out the do-not-disturb sign, because she had slept without interruption. Apparently he had hunted up housekeeping for the towels.

  She stripped off his shirt and her nightgown, turned on the shower and stepped in. She scrubbed every inch of skin into a glow and felt much more refreshed. After blotting skin and hair dry, she smoothed perfumed lotion into that skin, fluffed her hair, and wrapped up in a towel. If this was the last night they’d be together, she intended to make the most of her opportunity.

  * * *

  Conn walked into their hotel suite rubbing the water out of his hair with a towel and almost ran into Harmony coming out of the dressing room.

  “Oh!” she said. “You startled me.”

  “Sorry.” He walked over to the dresser to put down his phone and key card. “How do you feel?” His gaze dropped to the cleavage exposed above the towel before he dragged it back to her eyes. What kind of a pervert lusted after a sick woman?

  “Better,” she answered softly. He saw her swallow. “Much better,” she repeated.

  At her tone, he ceased rubbing his hair and stilled. His gaze lingered on hers for several seconds longer, wondering at her expression. He dropped his gaze again and perused her from her bare feet slowly up her legs to her towel-wrapped body and the slight rounding of her breasts visible above the towel, letting himself enjoy the trip this time.

  Her color was better and he began to feel less perverted about wanting her. He walked back to her and laid a hand against her cheek, testing for fever. When he found none, he kept his hand there, saw her pupils darken in response and watched her roll her lips in and moisten them with the tip of her pink tongue.

  She cleared her throat. “Why are you all wet?”

  He wore nothing but his swim trunks, flip-flops, and the towel he had dropped around his neck. “After my workout, I did a few laps in the hotel pool.”

  “Oh.”

  He was focused on her lips, fascinated by the shape of them, by the tiny mole above them. He slid his hand down to her neck and lifted her chin with a knuckle. His thumb traced the lips he had just been studying.

  She swallowed again and he found the subtle action that betrayed her response as arousing as anything he’d experienced.

  He leaned down and touched his mouth gently to hers, going slowly to be sure he wasn’t misinterpreting the signals she seemed to be sending. She clutched tightly at her towel with one hand and reached the other arm around his waist. At the invitation, he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between the lips she opened to him.

  He wasn’t sure if he had backed her against the wall or if she pulled him there, but his weight pressed against her and her pelvis arched to meet him.

  She released her hold on the towel and wrapped both arms around his neck. No mixed signals here. She moaned and opened her mouth wider. He took it in a hungry, possessive kiss that demanded even more.

  “Conn,” she pleaded breathlessly.

  He bent and swept her up in his arms and turned toward the bed, moving carefully. He only had to make it three steps before dropping her to the mattress. She bounced slightly and reached for him.

  “Hold the thought.” He stepped into the dressing room and reached into his shaving kit for a condom. He also took the opportunity to shed the wet bathing suit.

  Back in the bedroom he tossed the condom on the night stand and, leaning over Harmony, drew her towel off like he was unwrapping a gift. Once in bed with her, he tried to take the time he hadn’t before, but she was having none of it.

  She was all over him. Every caress he gave her, she repeated with him. He had her on her back suckling one of her breasts and eliciting very satisfying noises from her when she shoved at his shoulders and pushed him away.

  He backed off and she rose and pressed his shoulders to the mattress. Her mouth traveled over his chest, licking and nipping until it settled over his nipple. He closed his eyes and groaned. Her hands were busy stroking him everywhere, her fingernails scoring lightly over his skin. He gave up trying to control the action and gave in to the pleasure.

  Her mouth traveled over his stomach and lower and the muscles there tensed. The thinking part of his brain had pretty much checked out, but a fragment of reason remained. From awkward virgin to sex kitten in . . . two weeks?

  If he hadn’t been so aroused, he would have laughed. He graspe
d her head in both hands and tipped her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  “Harmony. You’ve been studying up again, haven’t you?”

  Chapter Eleven

  He had his answer in the way her gaze shifted and her lips tightened. He hauled her up beside him and leaned over her, preventing further sexual gymnastics. “You want to tell me what you’re trying to do here?”

  “I just wanted to make sure you enjoyed it, too.”

  He gave a disbelieving grunt of laughter. “Babe, my enjoyment is a given. You’re working too hard. Just relax and focus on what feels good to you. I promise the rest will take care of itself.”

  Her expression looked doubtful.

  “You’re a hard sell. I can see I have my work cut out for me.” He lowered his face and kissed her, starting slow and letting the heat build again naturally.

  Now that Harmony wasn’t trying to recreate a page from the Kama Sutra, her pleasure flowed easily. He loved how responsive she was once she stopped being so concerned about his pleasure and her own performance. When she reached for him, it was because of her need and desire, not because she’d read that she was supposed to. Conn much preferred the former.

  She moaned and tossed and writhed and finally demanded he take her. He sheathed himself and rose over her, as desperate as Harmony for completion. He reminded himself she was a beginner at this and eased into her carefully.

  She hummed in pleasure and tipped her hips to take him deeper. He stopped worrying about hurting her and let himself revel in her heat and hunger. He clenched his teeth against the urge to rush and let her find her own pace.

  He was with her when she arched faster, higher, harder and breathed approval in her ear when the orgasm hit her. Freed from the need to hold back, he let own climax follow seconds later.

  He had no idea how much time passed before he became aware his weight was crushing her into the mattress. He eased off her and shifted to the side, gathering her against him. She laid her head on his chest and sighed contentedly.