Solitary Soldier

by Debra Webb

  Rachel sat down on the side of the bed and watched her son sleep. His rosy cheeks and newly tanned skin made her yearn to hug him and kiss him from head to toe just like she did when he was a baby, but that would only wake him. Josh was always ready for naptime after his energetic romp in the pool and leisurely lunch in the kitchen. Considering this morning’s rigorous workout, Rachel felt ready for a nap herself. She yawned. It was Friday, surely Sloan would cut her some slack.

  Maybe she would rest her eyes for just a few minutes anyway. She was an adult, she didn’t have to ask for permission. She had thirty more minutes before she was to meet Sloan in the gym, as he called it. She eased down beside her son and snuggled close to his warm little body. She loved him so very much. She couldn’t possibly live without him. Her last thought before she drifted off was of how unbearable it must be for Sloan living with the loss of his son.

  Hell. He’d said it was hell.

  “SEÑORA.”

  Rachel’s eyes fluttered opened as Pablo gently shook her shoulder.

  “Señora Larson, Señor Sloan is waiting for you.”

  Rachel sat up quickly. She checked the clock on the bedside table. 3:00 p.m. She had slept for an entire hour. She raked her fingers through her mussed hair, pushing it back from her face and met Pablo’s concerned gaze. Sloan would be royally PO’d. Why hadn’t he sent for her sooner?

  “I’ll be right there,” she assured Pablo.

  He nodded and scurried away to deliver her message. Rachel scooted off the bed and padded to the adjoining bathroom. She felt groggy after her unintentional power nap. She hadn’t slept that long, or that soundly in the middle of the afternoon in ages. After taking care of essential business, she quickly brushed out her hair and straightened her sleep-tousled clothes. She dropped a quick kiss on her still sleeping child’s sweet head and hurried from the room.

  She had to admit that Sloan had been right about the soreness as she made her way down the long hall. She had worked most of it out. She felt stronger already. When Angel came, and she knew he would, she wanted to be ready. She felt certain that it would take all the courage and strength she could muster to face him. He would be out for blood this time.

  Her blood.

  And probably Sloan’s.

  Pablo and Sloan were talking quietly when she reached the great room. They stopped abruptly when she walked in. Rachel felt certain that she and Josh had been the subject of their hushed discussion.

  “Josh is still sleeping,” she informed Pablo, then looked from one man to the next. Pablo looked downright embarrassed, Sloan looked like he always did—indifferent. They’d been talking about her all right.

  “Not to worry, señora, I will take very good care of him.”

  Pablo made her the same promise each day, and he always did just as he said he would. Rachel was immensely grateful for all that he did for her son. Pablo made life with Sloan tolerable.

  Rachel smiled her thanks, then turned to Sloan. “I’m ready.”

  “Today we’re going to do something a little different,” he said without preamble. Evidently not deeming clarification necessary, he led the way from the room.

  Uncertain whether his announcement was good or bad, Rachel followed. She noted again what a strong man Sloan was. Tall, muscular build. Broad, broad shoulders and a lean waist. Cute butt, she thought with a tiny smile. The way his jeans hugged him was…inspiring. Heat flagged her cheeks. She was acting like a silly schoolgirl. She tried to look anywhere but at his well-formed behind as they continued toward the workout room. She never had this kind of reaction to a man. Not even all those years ago to—

  Rachel forced that thought away.

  A rare, pleasant breeze shifted her hair around her shoulders. The temperature was hot, but not as unbearably so as yesterday, she decided. What kind of woman would it take to please a man like Sloan, she suddenly wondered? Rachel scolded herself mentally for allowing her musings to wander in that direction again, but somehow she simply could not help herself. She had already decided that she wasn’t his type—not that she wanted to be. But she felt certain that skinny brunettes were not his playmates of choice. He would be an aggressive lover, she decided. One who would please his partner over and over before he took pleasure himself.

  Her pulse reacted to the vivid fantasy that leaped to mind with the thought. Startled by her own musings, Rachel banished the forbidden thoughts and images of the man in front of her. She needed him rightly enough, but not for anything other than the job she had hired him to do.

  Rachel frowned as she considered that he still had not named a price to her. She would have to ask him about that later. If she could get him to talk to her. The only words that had passed between them thus far were the orders he snapped.

  Sloan paused near the large blue mats where they usually began their morning workout. She hoped he didn’t have more of the same planned. She had flexed and contracted every muscle in her body too many times already.

  Well maybe not every muscle, she amended as her gaze swept over Sloan’s masculine frame once more. The new thought disrupted Rachel’s equilibrium. How could she be thinking like that about this man? About any man?

  He shrugged off the holster and laid it aside. “Starting today we’re going to alternate between weapons training and hand-to-hand defense tactics,” he told her in his usual, indifferent tone.

  Rachel’s frown deepened. She chewed her lower lip a moment as he slid the two mats closer together. “You mean like karate moves or something?” she asked hesitantly.

  He studied her for a moment, those piercing blue eyes trying doubly hard to see inside her head. “Do you have a problem with hand-to-hand?”

  Yes, she wanted to shout. She didn’t need to touch him, or have him touch her anymore than was necessary. Her imagination was already in overdrive.

  “No,” she said instead. “I just wanted to be sure we were talking about the same thing.”

  “Good.” Sloan braced his legs wide apart and motioned with one long-fingered hand for her to come to him. “Charge me,” he instructed.

  “W-what?” she stammered. Rachel smoothed her palms over her loose T-shirt. She didn’t want to charge him. The outcome surely would not be good. For her.

  “Is there something wrong with your hearing today?” he demanded. “I said charge me.”

  What had put a burr under his saddle? She had noticed his more uncivil than usual mood this morning, but she had hoped it would have worn off by now. She moistened her lips and took a small step, then stalled. “I’m not sure if I understand exactly what you mean,” she hedged.

  He walked straight up to her, too close. So close she had to back up to keep from being nose to chest with him. Her traitorous body responded immediately to his nearness.

  “What’s to understand?” He glared down at her. “What do you do when a man comes at you like this?”

  She attempted a shrug, but his fierce gaze stopped her. “Run?”

  “I would catch you before you got halfway across the room.” Sloan blew out a breath of frustration. “You need to know how to put a man down.”

  Rachel laughed nervously. “I couldn’t possibly put you down. You’re much…much stronger than me.” And bigger, with far too many bulging muscles, she didn’t add.

  “If you want to learn,” he growled, “you’ll do what I tell you.” He moved back to the far side of the mat and assumed a readied stance. “Now, come at me.”

  Afraid to comply, but even more afraid not to, for fear of disappointing him, Rachel marched straight up to him as he had done her. “Okay,” she began nervously, “What now?”

  He rolled his eyes. Impatience evidenced itself in every angle of his face. “Hit me.”

  Dismayed, it took a moment for words to form. “I can’t do that.”

  He pinned her with that icy gaze. “Do it.”

  Rachel blinked, uncertain. “Do we really need to do this? Isn’t there another way?” Fury blazed in his eyes, sending
her back a step.

  “Do you want me to help you, or not? You need to know how to defend yourself. It might save your life sometime. Or maybe your kid’s. This isn’t a game. Now, do it.”

  Exasperated, Rachel shoved a handful of hair behind her ear and nodded. “All right.” He looked ready to pounce on her if she didn’t obey. “Where should I hit you?”

  “Just swing at me,” he growled.

  Rachel drew back and aimed her fist at his taut abdomen. Just before she made contact with her target he moved. The next thing Rachel knew she was lying flat on her back on the mat, the wind emptied from her lungs.

  He extended his hand toward her. “You’ve already had your nap.” One corner of his grim mouth hitched up in a facsimile of a smile. “Try to stay on your feet this time.”

  She accepted his hand and pulled up. He’d done that on purpose. She was sure of it. He knew she wasn’t ready for a move like that. “I can do better,” she said crossly. “You surprised me, that’s all.” She lifted her chin a notch when doubt clouded his expression. “Shall we try it again?”

  “It might help if you acted like you mean it.” He cocked his tawny head and studied her stature. “I’ve seen smaller women than you take down a man larger than me.”

  Rachel planted her hands on her hips and studied him just as he had her. “You know what they say, the bigger they are the harder they fall.”

  He stepped intimidatingly nearer. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby,” he rasped.

  Anger boiled up inside her. “I’m not your baby.”

  “Your choice.” He readied for the next round. “Hit me with your best shot, Miss Larson.”

  Rachel aimed for his belligerent face this time. He snagged her arm and flipped her onto her back once more. She grimaced as if in real pain from the fall. A flash of concern flitted through his gaze as he offered his hand. Furious, she grabbed his hand with both hers and jerked with all her might. He stumbled, then went down as she rolled in the opposite direction. One muscular leg snagged her before she could move far enough away. She struggled, but he was on top of her too fast.

  “Get off me,” she ordered, breathless.

  He pinned her arms above her head. His glare was deadly. “Make me.”

  She squirmed in his hold. His heavy body covered hers, trapping her and making her aware of every male contour. “How am I supposed to do that?” Her heart pounded so hard she was sure he could hear it. “I can’t imagine how you stay in business with the way you treat your clients,” she huffed. “Whatever happened to customer satisfaction?”

  “I haven’t had an unsatisfied customer yet,” he said huskily, something new kindling to life in his eyes, which he promptly blinked away.

  Awareness shivered through her, and Rachel had the strangest feeling that his words were more promise than fact. Or threat, depending on how one looked at it.

  “Are you going to do something or are we going to lie here all day?”

  A new blast of anger shot through her as she considered her limited options. She was trapped, there was nothing she could do. Anxiety suddenly coursed through her veins, adding to the uncertainty mushrooming inside her. She had to do something.

  He shifted his weight slightly, Rachel tensed, then reacted. She jerked her right knee up, aiming for his crotch. He twisted his lower body in a protective move, his attention diverted briefly from her face. Rachel bit his left shoulder as hard as she could.

  Swearing hotly, he tried to pull away, she followed. He rolled, Rachel in tow. She fought hard, kicking at every opportunity. One hand slipped free of his hold. She grabbed a handful of his hair. Another ear-scorching curse echoed around them. He was on top of her again. This time he was madder than hell. His breath, as ragged as hers, fanned her face. Rage glittered in his eyes, he trembled with the force of it. She could feel it radiating from his tense muscles, especially those that marked him male. Fear, more real than any she had ever felt in his presence, washed over her.

  “Let me up,” she demanded, her voice quivering with the fear manifesting itself in every fiber of her being.

  He shook with the effort of restraint. The battle taking place in his eyes frightened her beyond anything he could have said.

  “Please,” she whispered when he didn’t move. “You’re scaring me.”

  He blinked, clearly rattled. He released her and pushed to his knees. Rachel scooted away from him then, to the other side of the mat.

  He swallowed hard, her gaze followed the stiff movement, before the feel of his eyes on her summoned her gaze to his.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded and scrambled to her feet. “If that’s all,” she said, going for calm, but falling well short, “I think I’ll just go back…” She gestured toward the door, as she backed in that direction. Whatever had just happened, she didn’t want to hang around and analyze it.

  He stood as she reached the door. Before he could speak again, Rachel spun away and hurried back to the house.

  He had lost control there for a minute. Allowed some emotion she couldn’t fully analyze to push him too close to the edge. Was his hatred for her growing rather than diminishing? Maybe she had made a mistake in coming here.

  Distressed and certain she didn’t want to be alone, Rachel went in search of Josh and Pablo. Maybe Sloan was dangerous, she contemplated. Maybe Victoria Colby didn’t know him anymore. After what he had been through, Rachel was surprised he hadn’t lost his mind long ago.

  She slowed to catch her breath. Maybe he had.

  She closed her eyes and allowed the last of the fear to drain away. When it was gone, all that remained was the desire elicited by the feel of his body pressed against hers.

  Rachel shook her head in defeat. Obviously she was at least a little crazy too.

  How could she be drawn to Sloan when he so clearly despised her? Hormones, Rach, she told herself. Nothing but proximity and hormones. You’ll get over it.

  Chapter Six

  Sloan glanced at his watch, 6:00 a.m. What the hell was she doing up so early on a Sunday morning? His gaze shifted back to the courtyard, to Rachel. As he stood quietly in the open doorway leading from the hall, he studied the movements of her hands. She sat at the patio table several feet away, her profile turned toward him. She appeared so deep in concentration that she hadn’t noticed his presence.

  She was drawing. She had been an art major in school, he remembered from reading her bio. He ruthlessly squashed the other memories that wanted to surface from two nights ago. The feel of Josh in his arms. He shook his head. He wasn’t going there again.

  Rachel looked so intent. Her right hand moved quickly, but with a light touch. Her hair was pulled up into some sort of loose bundle on top of her head, leaving her down-turned face unobscured. The delicate features of her profile were achingly feminine. Her lips were very full, and with much more color than when she had first arrived almost a week ago. The sun, as well as the feeling of security she had gained since her arrival had brought that same rosy color back to her cheeks. Though tanned slightly, her skin looked as smooth and soft as satin. He knew from experience that it would feel very much like satin.

  She sat with those unbelievably long legs propped on the table. She wore shorts today, which displayed a fair amount of toned thighs. Sloan licked his dry lips as his gaze traveled from bare feet to the hem of khaki shorts. The tank top hugged her body well. He wondered if her small breasts were unrestrained today as they usually were. He had noticed on more than one occasion the tight peaks, had felt the firm swell against him when their bodies touched during training. For the life of him he couldn’t explain why he found those small breasts so damned intriguing. There was absolutely nothing extraordinary about them, except the intense desire with which he wanted to taste them.

  Rachel had gained a couple of pounds, which was good. She was eating right. Probably for the first time in a long while. She was still too thin for his liking. But she was strong, emotionally and phy
sically. He had gotten a glimpse of her fierce determination more than once. She wouldn’t say die, no matter how hard he pushed her. He had the distinct impression that she would pass out from exhaustion before she would admit defeat. He admired that quality. Hell, truth be told, he admired a lot more than that. He shifted, his jeans suddenly tight with his growing arousal. He cursed himself again. To his infinite irritation he had lost count of the number of times he had been unable to control his thoughts in that direction where she was concerned.

  His behavior day before yesterday shamed him still. How could he have gone so far out of control? So many emotions had gotten all twisted inside him. Josh. Rachel. His murdered wife and son. Angel. He couldn’t think, he could only react. He knew he hadn’t physically hurt her, but he had frightened her. He had wanted to kiss her so badly. Hell, he hadn’t wanted simply to kiss her, he had wanted to take her, whether she wanted him or not. The effort required to force himself back under control had been monumental. He let go a heavy breath. There was no excuse for his behavior. He owed her an apology. No, he owed her much more than that.

  They had hardly spoken since. She kept her distance. And he hadn’t touched her again. Isn’t that what he’d wanted?

  Suddenly, she looked up, then turned to him. Her breath caught, he saw the quick movement of her breasts as she inhaled sharply. Her tongue darted out to trace the fullness of her slightly parted lips. It was his turn to have difficulty breathing then. He straightened and started toward her. Her gaze traced his body, making him that much harder. He could almost feel the touch of her eyes as she slowly examined his bare chest where his shirt fell open.

  “You’re up early,” he remarked with more nonchalance than he felt as he sat down across the table from her.

  She blinked, clearly startled. By his presence or her own wayward thoughts, he couldn’t be sure. But there was no way to ignore the way she had looked at him a moment ago or the flush on her cheeks now. The table shook with her sudden move to get her feet off, then underneath it.