Oh-eight-hundred hours. Ash’s plane would be in the air and almost halfway home already.
The thought didn’t help her churning stomach.
Last night had been everything she’d expected it would be and more. She’d been fooling herself if she thought she could manage a one-night stand with anyone, but certainly not with a man like Ash. He had made her feel alive in a way she’d never dreamed possible. Her entire body ached, from her breasts which he’d grazed with his stubble, to her neck which he’d grazed with his teeth, and between her legs which had experienced such delicious torture.
But the part which ached the most was deep inside her heart and she feared it would never heal. Her only consolation was that at least she’d got out now, before she’d fallen for Ash Stirling, head over heels.
Impulsively, she picked up her mobile and dialled the only person she could.
‘Elle?’ Sinking on the bed with relief at the sound of her friend’s voice, she wondered how best to phrase her request, given that Elle only had two weeks of R&R with her fiancé before returning to Razorwire.
‘I’m so sorry, but I could really use a chat right now...’
She tailed off, shutting down the part of her brain that was screaming, I think I may have actually fallen for Ash.
‘Any chance I could call in to yours for an hour once I get back to the UK?’
‘You could—’ she heard Elle’s hesitant voice crackle over the phone ‘—but I’m not there.’
A frown deepened on Fliss’s face as she listened to her friend talk. Her explanation was so flimsy it could barely support its own weight. And the monotone voice was so different from Elle’s habitually jovial tone as they agreed a time and place.
So just what the heck was Elle doing on her own in an airport hotel room about an hour out of the RAF base on the outskirts of Oxford, when she should have been a hundred miles away enjoying her last two days of R&R with her fiancé, Stevie?
* * *
Fliss eyed Elle curiously, wondering what had happened in the thirty hours since their phone call to bring about the change in her friend.
‘Are you pregnant?’ she accused. ‘You’re positively glowing, your eyes are all sparkly...’
‘And my coat is shiny?’ Elle cut across her, laughing. ‘I’m sorry if I sounded...off during that conversation. You’ve no idea how relieved I was that you called; I really needed someone to talk to.’
‘You and Stevie had a fight? Was it about the wedding plans again?’
She was trying to be sympathetic but all she really wanted to do was pour the whole story out to Elle.
‘I walked in on him having sex in our bed, with some groupie.’
‘Elle!’ Her problems forgotten in an instant, Fliss was aghast.
“And that’s not the first time.”
Watching Elle’s face colour with embarrassment, Fliss couldn’t decide whether she was more upset for her friend, or angry on her behalf.
‘How dare he do that to you.’
Elle must be devastated, Stevie was the only man she’d ever even kissed. Only the funny thing was, she didn’t look devastated. To Fliss, her friend looked the way she herself had felt when she’d received the Dear John letter from Robert.
Relieved.
She couldn’t help herself. Before she could stop it, she imagined what it would be like to have received a letter like that from Ash. Or to walk in on Ash that way.
It was like a physical body blow. Pain seared through her as Fliss grasped the edges of the chair, trying to steady herself and struggling to catch a breath.
That answered that question then, she realised in horror. So much for Ash being just a one-night fling.
‘Are you okay?’ She concentrated on her friend.
‘Surprisingly, yes. I... I’ve been feeling Stevie and I were out of step for a while now.’
‘I know.’ Fliss was tentative. ‘Maybe even years, looking back?’
‘Maybe.’
They’d both been so indifferent about their respective fiancés, but Fliss had put it down to their careers.
‘Now I understand why you sounded so deflated the other day on the phone. But now you look so buoyed?’
Fliss didn’t add that it was the same way she felt after her night with Ash. The idea of one-man Elle having a fling was disorientating. But maybe it would be the best thing her friend could do.
After all, hadn’t her own fling with Ash stirred more emotions in her in four days than Robert ever had in four years? So where did that leave her?
‘So much has happened since then,’ Elle started, before stopping abruptly.
‘Tell me about it!’ Fliss attempted to roll her eyes light-heartedly; Elle would think she was crazy.
But for once Elle was too lost in her own thoughts to notice. Fliss could practically see the tussle on her friend’s face as her friend debated whether or not to spill her story. Eventually, Elle shook her head in determination.
‘No, you called me, Fliss. Which means this time you have to go first.’
‘Since when do you and I stand on ceremony?’
She eyed her friend suspiciously and Elle offered a sheepish smile.
‘Sorry, you’re right. But I just need a bit more time to process. You go first.’
Fliss suppressed a groan, schooling herself to appear as normal as she could.
‘I’ve no idea where to begin, either.’
‘Okay.’ Elle grinned suddenly. ‘Remember what we did at uni? First animal to pop into your head. Don’t think. Just say.’
‘Dog.’ Fliss floundered, thinking how unoriginal her answers had always been.
‘Favourite colour?’
‘Purple.’
‘What’s the big news?’
‘I kissed Man Candy.’
A stunned silence filled the room, so loud Fliss could hear it thrumming in her ears. She willed Elle to say something. Anything.
‘Are you serious?’
Fliss’s heart flip-flopped. She hadn’t realised how much she really wanted to hear Elle’s approval.
‘Serious.’ She nodded. ‘Well, more than just kissed, actually. We slept together. In a hotel. On the way home.’
It sounded so emotionless when she said the words, but nothing could be further from the truth.
‘Are you shocked and appalled?’
‘Shocked, yes. Appalled, no,’ Elle marvelled. ‘I know I suggested it, but I never really thought you’d go in for a fling. I’m so pleased; I think it’s just what you needed after Robert.’
‘You’re right, of course,’ Fliss began hesitantly. ‘Only it wasn’t just about having a fling; it was about finding the person who made me want to have a fling.’
‘Oh, no.’ Elle peered at her. ‘You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?’
Fliss attempted to look horrified. ‘No. No, of course not. Well, not fallen for, exactly. Okay...maybe a bit.’ She puffed up her cheeks and blew out. ‘I need your help, Elle. What am I supposed to do now?’
‘Don’t ask me.’ Elle shrugged, feigning nonchalance. ‘Following our phone conversation I decided that I wasn’t going to spend last night moping in my room, and so I went to some Latin-dance club. After fifteen years having only ever slept with one person, I have now slept with two.’
‘You had a one-night stand?’ Fliss gaped.
The coincidence of it was striking. Both she and Elle had always been so career-focused, so conservative in their personal lives, yet within twenty-four hours of meeting each other, they’d both had the first, and probably only, one-night stand of their lives.
‘So you want to tell me how I’m supposed to do this, because I seem to have got the fling-then-forget bit a little messed up? What do we do now?’ Fliss joked
weakly.
‘Don’t ask me.’ Elle shrugged. ‘Only I think I may have fallen a little for my guy too. Not that he is even my guy. So I think that makes you and I a right pair of one-night-stand failures.’
She rolled her eyes and Fliss laughed.
‘I think you’re right. But hey, at least we can now say that we tried it.’
‘Right. But now we just try to figure something out, and forget them.’
She looked about as dubious as Fliss felt and an image of Ash popped, unbidden, into her mind. The way he’d worked so in sync with her that first day. The way he’d come to that rooftop to tell her that Corporal Hollings was stable enough to be flown home. The way he’d listened to her at the table as she’d told him things she’d never told anyone before.
And then other images. The way he’d kissed her back at camp. The way he’d made her forget everything but him as he’d touched her so skilfully on that hillside over the carnival. The way he’d claimed her again and again, making her feel as though no man had ever understood her body, her needs, as he did.
White-hot flames licked at her insides, setting every inch of her skin on fire just at the memories. How was any man going to ever match up to Colonel Asher Stirling?
CHAPTER TEN
ASH STALLED AT the crematorium doors. For a moment he was seven again, and beyond the door wasn’t his foster mum Rosie, but his mum.
Part of him wanted to turn and run but that wasn’t in his nature. More concerning was the fact that another part of him wished that he hadn’t been too proud to accept Fliss’s offer to accompany him. If he had, she might be here now, standing right next to him.
But needing anyone wasn’t in his nature either.
His nature was to push people away. To keep them at arm’s length so they didn’t see that weak part of him he’d never been able to fully eradicate. And in protecting himself he often ended up hurting others. Just as he had hurt Rosie. And Wilf. He hadn’t intended to hurt them. And if he let Fliss in, he’d end up doing the same.
A hot pain stabbed through him at the idea of anyone ever hurting Fliss.
In one night she’d ignited such emotions in him. Passion, protectiveness, even possessiveness. He shook his head as if that would dislodge the memories of their night together. Memories which played on permanent loop in his brain.
Ironic, really.
He’d intended that night to be the distraction he needed from thinking about the funeral. Now he found he needed a distraction from thinking about that one night. Sex with Fliss was supposed to have been just sex. In the past it had always been just sex. Hot sex, wild sex, intense sex or lazy sex. It never mattered; the result had always been the same.
He’d tried to deny it but it had been different with Fliss, even from the start. And even when he’d walked out of the door, the memories had taken up residency in his head and refused to be evicted.
‘Going inside, mate?’
The unfamiliar voice caught him unawares, snapping him out of his thoughts and reminding Ash why he was here.
The funeral.
He turned with something approaching relief. The expression on the stranger’s face was instantly recognisable. A couple of years older than Ash but unmistakably another foster kid Rosie had helped. They nodded at each other in unspoken acknowledgement as Ash gestured for the other man to go ahead.
Stepping through the door, he stood just off to the side and straightened his service dress uniform and black arm band. The other man had made his way up the aisle to where Wilfred stood by the coffin.
Pain tightened Ash’s chest.
His foster father looked old. So much older than Ash remembered. Where was the man mountain of Ash’s childhood? It had only been, what? He calculated the last couple of tours. Four years. Four years since he’d last seen Wilf and Rosie—not that she’d recognised him—yet the frail old man in front of him could have been a decade and a half older. No doubt evidence of the toll Rosie’s illness had taken on him.
Wilf greeted the other man with a handshake and a brief embrace, exchanging a few words before the man went to sit down. Emotions rushed Ash. He doubted his foster father would be as pleased to see him. He should have come back years ago. But he couldn’t leave now, even if Wilf asked him to. He owed it to Rosie to be here.
Alone again, the old man resumed his stance, trying to straighten his back and steel himself against the emotions which were clearly flowing just beneath the surface. Typically stoic Wilfred. He would stay strong for everyone else even though Ash imagined he was crumbling inside.
Then there were no more excuses. Ash forced himself to take his first step to the aisle, placing one foot in front of the other, until his foster father finally looked up and saw him.
‘Asher.’
To Ash’s shock the old man practically stumbled down the aisle towards him, gratitude and fondness in the watery eyes which were paler than he remembered. He hauled Ash into the tightest bear hug before suddenly appearing to lose all strength, the thin body slumping against his own as Wilf clung on in silence, only his frail, shaking body, betraying himself to his former foster son. And then Ash finally allowed himself to feel. He wrapped his arms around the man who had helped to save his life and they hugged each other for several long moments.
By the time Wilf patted his arms, standing up again and looking him in the eye, the old man’s face was slightly wet.
‘Thank you. She’d be so happy you came.’ He exhaled deeply. ‘I’m so happy you came. And in your uniform. Rosie always loved to see you dressed like that. She was so proud of you. We both were.’
He stopped, choked up, filled with the love Ash recalled so well. Remorse flooded his entire body.
He’d been such a fool and now it was too late.
‘I’m sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘You have nothing to be sorry for, son. Nothing. You hear me?’
Something clogged in Ash’s throat and he swallowed painfully. ‘I should have come a long time ago.’
Bony fingers clutched his arm.
‘You were fighting for your country. Hell, you nearly made the ultimate sacrifice when that grenade went off.’ He led Ash up to the coffin, resuming his former position next to it, but this time facing Ash. ‘And you never dealt with losing your own mum. I understand why you couldn’t deal with losing Rosie too.’
‘I should never have left it so damn long,’ Ash bit out, his voice cracking.
‘Rosie didn’t know any different. Not by then. She didn’t even know me. She wouldn’t have known you and you’d have put yourself through hell for no good reason.’
‘I let you down.’ The words came out by themselves.
Wilf cast him a ferocious stare. ‘You most certainly did not. You were there when she needed you. You made her prouder than you know, as an army officer but, more importantly, as an honourable man. You have no idea how proud I was when I heard you’d become a colonel.’
Even after everything, Wilf had been following his career?
Guilt flooded through Ash, making him feel sick.
‘I should sit down,’ he managed thickly. ‘People will want to...speak to you.’
He couldn’t say the words.
‘Stand with me?’ the old man asked suddenly. ‘Please?’
It felt like an honour he didn’t deserve.
‘I...shouldn’t.’
A hopeful light danced momentarily in Wilf’s eyes as he peered around the building.
‘You came with someone?’
‘No.’ Ash hated snuffing out that light.
‘Still haven’t met the one? You will.’ Wilf nodded firmly. ‘Rosie always said that one day you’d meet the woman who would complete you and you’d stop fighting the idea of opening your life to someone.’
It took everything Ash had to shut out images of the other night. He’d spent thirty hours trying to convince himself it was just sex, but deep down he knew he was going to have to face up to the connection they’d forged when he hadn’t been looking. Maybe it had been when they’d worked together so fluidly out in the field, or maybe on that rooftop when he’d told her about the scars, or maybe when she’d opened up to him at the carnival about her past.
At some point he was going to have to admit that it wasn’t just sex at all.
And once he accepted it, perhaps he could finally put it behind him.
‘That’s not for me. My career...isn’t conducive to a relationship.’
Wilf snorted. ‘When you meet your one, everything else will fall into place.’
Before he could answer, more people arrived and made their way to Wilf to express their condolences, and Ash was left alone with his thoughts.
It was no use. He was helpless against the memories of Fliss which assaulted him on multiple levels. From the sweet sound of her laughter and the silky-soft cascade of that blonde hair, to the intoxicating scent of her hot core and the honey taste of her climax on his tongue.
And now he craved more.
But neither he nor Fliss could afford more. They were both dedicated to their Army careers, and the reason they were both so successful was because they didn’t have distractions. He knew so many soldiers who left their ‘family head’ at RAF Lyneham and put on their ‘Army head’ when they went on operations. But, even then, the smallest thing could throw them, whether news from home or just missing a loved one that day.
Avoiding being tied down meant he never had to worry about that, and Fliss was the same. Which was why they could each focus on their respective tasks and know they would always give everything they had.
He needed to forget Fliss. Get back to life as he’d known it a month ago.
‘You’re a good boy,’ Wilf said softly as they were left alone again. ‘You deserve love. But, like my Rosie always said, you just need to let go. You’re the only one standing in the way of your own happiness.’
Encounter with a Commanding Officer Page 12
