by Lori Foster
Praise for
LORI FOSTER
“A Lori Foster book is like a glass of good champagne—sexy and sparkling!”
—Jayne Ann Krentz
“Foster proves herself as a bestselling author time and again.”
—Romantic Times
DONNA KAUFFMAN
“Donna Kauffman writes smart and sexy, with sizzle to spare!”
—New York Times bestselling author Janet Evanovich
“For pure fun served piping hot, get yourself a book by Donna Kauffman!”
—New York Times bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson
JILL SHALVIS
“For those of you who haven’t read Jill Shalvis, you are really missing out.”
—In The Library Reviews
“Jill Shalvis delivers the goods.”
—Affaire de Coeur
LORI FOSTER
DONNA KAUFFMAN
JILL SHALVIS
MEN OF COURAGE II
CONTENTS
AN HONORABLE MAN
Lori Foster
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
EPILOGUE
BLOWN AWAY
Donna Kauffman
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
PERILOUS WATERS
Jill Shalvis
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BONUS FEATURES
AN HONORABLE MAN
Lori Foster
Dear Reader,
Before tackling this book, all I truly knew about the military is that it leaves me awed, proud and humbled by those who give so much to our country. In many ways, the military life feels like a different universe from mine, so I had to query a lot of people to get even the smallest facts straight. Every single person was so giving, so kind and patient, that I have to give them credit for helping me to complete this book.
First of all, I have to thank talented author Catherine Mann and her incredible husband, Lt. Col. Robert Mann. Without them, this novella wouldn’t have happened. Big hugs to you both!
Thanks also go to Major Charles F. Rinkevich, Jr., USAF Chief, AFOSI Officer Assignments, who answered a lot of e-mail questions and helped me to understand different decorations, how and when they’re worn, and even sent me pictures of various medals.
Other contributors were Amy Case, an honorably discharged veteran of the USAF, and Major Thomas P. Coppinger of the New Jersey Air National Guard, or NJANG. Both Amy and Tom filled in a lot of blanks whenever the odd question arose or a tiny fact was needed.
A lot of the research I collected never made it into the book, but it certainly gave me a better understanding of the relationship between my two characters based on their backgrounds and experiences. Everything I learned proved invaluable—so again, my most humble gratitude for your assistance.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAOS REIGNED in the classroom as the kids returned from their second recess. Liv Amery listened to the comforting sounds of their bustling activity, the scraping of chairs, the continued childish chatter. The cold mid-May weather had made their small faces ruddy, and had resulted in several runny noses. Wind-ruffled and still wound up from the recent play, they were utterly adorable.
Only an hour remained in the school day, and then the kids would head home. She had just enough time to finish going over the math lessons. Giving them time to remove their jackets and settle in their seats, Liv retrieved several papers from her desk. When everyone had quieted, she stood and went to the chalkboard, ready to start the afternoon lessons.
That’s when she heard it—the even, very precise cadence of military footfalls echoing down the tiled hallway. She’d grown up hearing that sound, the memory of it buried deep in her heart. But hearing it now, here in an elementary school, nearly stopped her heart.
With one hand raised, a piece of chalk still in her now limp fingers, she faced the blackboard, listening as those steps came closer and closer and finally stopped at the door of her third-grade room.
Heart pounding, throat tight, she began silent prayers. A visit from the military now could only mean one thing, and the idea that her most dreaded nightmare could have happened, that she might have lost him before she’d ever really had him…. No. She couldn’t accept that.
Then her senses picked up more subtle nuances. Not just any military walk, but one so familiar that, almost on cue, her stomach did a small flip and her lungs expanded with relief. They were telling reactions, an inbred response to one particular man.
Hamilton was okay. Thank you, God.
But because he’d come unannounced, not to her home, but to her school, her uneasiness remained. He was fine, but his visit here today could only mean one thing.
Wanting to shut out the moment, Liv started to close her eyes, and the door opened. With a mix of dread and awful yearning, she turned.
There he stood: Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton Wulf. Tall, strong, commanding. Exactly as she remembered him.
His brown eyes zeroed in on her face and stayed there, as probing and intimidating as ever. He wore no smile of welcome because this wasn’t a social call.
Shaken, Liv pulled her gaze from his and looked him over, making note of the hat tucked under his arm, his polished shoes and the razor-sharp crease in his dress blues.
Hamilton was fine—but her father wasn’t.
Knees going weak, Liv felt herself swaying, and suddenly Hamilton was there, his big hands warm and steady on her shoulders, keeping her upright. Close to her ear, he murmured, “Come with me, Liv.”
He didn’t wait for her agreement before finding her purse under her desk, pulling her sweater off the back of her chair, and leading her quietly, efficiently from her classroom. Her fractured senses scrambled to understand the situation, to absorb the enormity of what she knew to be true.
“Easy,” Hamilton said, redirecting her thoughts with his presence. “Just keep walking.”
Liv became aware of Betty Nobel, a teacher’s aide, taking charge of her students; aware of the children staring in wide-eyed wonder at the awe-inspiring figure Hamilton made, and aware of the strained hush in the air.
When they reached the front lobby of the school, the fog lifted and she pulled up. From as far back as Liv could remember, the military had ruled her life. But she’d finally broken free, and no one, not even Hamilton, could come back and start directing her again. She’d known this day would come. It had only been a matter of time. She’d prepared herself, living in dread day in and day out.
She could handle this. What choice did she have?
Hamilton waited while she dragged in two deep breaths. His hand remained on her elbow, his gaze steady and unblinking, the force of his will settling around her like a warm, heavy blanket.
Liv tipped up her chin to see his face. Although she already knew, she wanted it confirmed. “It’s Daddy, isn’t it?”
The second her gaze met his, Liv felt the old familiar connection. She felt his sympathy and his understanding and his need to comfort. It had always been that way with Hamilton, regardless of how she fought it.
His expression remained stern, but his voice soun
ded oddly gentle. “Outside, baby. Then we’ll talk.”
Liv looked beyond him to where another uniformed man and a uniformed woman stood on the front steps. They both appeared to be younger than Hamilton, probably in their early thirties, while Hamilton now edged close to forty.
Being a military brat, Liv automatically sought out the truth. She noted the young man had a religious symbol where Hamilton had wings, and the woman carried a small medical bag.
A chaplain and a military doctor. Did she need any more confirmation than that?
“Come on.” Hamilton’s arm went around her, pulling her protectively into his side and before Liv knew it, he had her outside in the brisk wind with the blinding sunshine in her face. Slipping on aviator sunglasses, Hamilton hustled her to the car.
Indicating the doctor, he said, “Liv, these are friends of mine, Major Cheryl Tyne and Captain Gary Nolan.”
They both nodded, their gazes respectful and sympathetic.
“Father, Doc, meet Weston’s daughter, Liv Amery.”
Liv tried for a smile, but had no idea if she’d succeeded. Major Tyne settled behind the wheel while the chaplain opened the rear door. Hamilton urged Liv into the back seat. Before she’d completely seated herself, his body crowded in next to hers, giving her no room to retreat, no room to react. He was so close, Liv breathed in his familiar scent, felt the touch of his body heat everywhere.
With a strange tenderness, especially considering his size and capability, Ham put his arms around her, gathering her to his chest.
She waited, breath held.
“I’m sorry, Liv.”
Odd, how she’d held out the faintest, most ridiculous hope. Now her hopes sank and around her distress, she felt burning anger. “No.” She tried to push away from Ham, but his thick, strong arms kept her close. “No, no, no—”
“Shh.” His hand cradled her face. “He had a heart attack, Liv. There was nothing anyone could do.”
A heart attack? Surprise silenced her. The military hadn’t taken him as she’d always feared? But how could his health have failed him when he’d always prided himself on being in prime physical condition?
It seemed…ironic. And so damn unfair.
Sick to her soul, Liv slumped against Hamilton, felt his hand stroking through her hair, his breath on her cheek.
Visions of her father—strong, proud, coldly distant in his discipline—warred with the image of him struggling for breath, a hand to his chest. “Did he…?”
“It was quick, baby, too damn quick.” To Major Tyne, he said, “Doc, take us to my motel room.”
“Sure, Howler.”
Howler? She hadn’t heard Ham referred to by his call name in a very long time. Some day, she’d find out why they called him that.
But for now, while her thoughts might be muddled, she still knew she didn’t want to go anywhere with Hamilton. She needed solace, to cry in private, to deal with her grief where no one could see or judge her.
She needed to find her backbone, to dredge up her independence. “My class…”
“I took care of it.”
She stared up at him, and even though he still wore the aviator glasses, she felt snared by his gaze.
Hamilton lifted a hand as if to remove them, and Liv caught his wrist. Sunshine flooded the car windows, making her squint. But Hamilton’s eyes were especially sensitive after so much time flying high above the pollution, being overexposed to the sun. He needed the glasses, and she knew it.
Diverted, his hand again settled against her cheek, his thumb stroking over her jaw. “You’re not alone, Liv.”
A near hysterical sob threatened to break free. Of course she was alone, just as she’d always been.
Shamefully, she felt mired in self-pity—and she hated that Hamilton always knew her most private thoughts. Her mother had died when she was young, and the military had owned her father. His death was a crushing weight on her heart, but she doubted she could miss him any more in death than she had in day-to-day life.
Looking out the window in an effort to compose herself, Liv whispered, “You’re wrong, Ham. I’ve always been alone.”
Her statement bothered him, and he tightened his hold. “Don’t do that, damn it. Don’t buck up like a good little soldier. You don’t have to, not with me.”
Liv didn’t reply. If she spoke, the tears would come and she’d be even more humiliated.
But her lack of reply didn’t deter Ham. “Listen to me, Liv. I’m here and I’m staying.” Before her hopes could fully surface, he burst her bubble. “I have two weeks leave.”
As if two weeks could matter in the scheme of things. Deep inside herself, pain twisted and prodded. Memories raced through her mind, memories of past years, of lost opportunities.
When he pulled her toward him, Liv rested her forehead against his chest. Typical for a man to think he could handle anything in two weeks. In so many ways, Hamilton was like her father—confident, capable, a man other men looked up to.
A man forever lost to her because the air force was his life.
Hamilton tipped up her chin. “I know that look, Liv. I know what you’re thinking.” His hand opened, his fingers curling around her nape. “I’ll be here with you, to help with the arrangements, to talk to, to…be with. If you need or want anything, if there’s anything I can do, you only have to tell me.”
Liv closed her eyes, unable to bear Hamilton’s close scrutiny. Want anything? She’d wanted him, but she couldn’t bear the constant moving or the constant worry she associated with the air force. She’d seen so many military marriages break up. Good people on both sides, just unable to handle the pressures of separation. Often the wives had no family close by for support. And she knew firsthand what a tough way it was to bring up kids.
She wanted constancy and close friends and a husband who came home every day. She wanted kids who felt secure, who wouldn’t have to go through what she had.
So she’d resigned herself to life without him.
Just as she’d resigned herself to life without a father. As a colonel with the Office of Special Investigation, Air Force Intelligence had taken Weston to some pretty spooky places over the years, and kept him away from her for long periods of time. Too long, and too many times. Liv couldn’t go through that again.
Already Hamilton had been in Kosovo, Afghanistan and Iraq. He’d even flown in Desert Storm as a newly trained pilot in a B-52. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss, and where Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton Wulf was concerned, the less she knew about his duties, the dangers he faced and the volatile situations he willingly put himself in, the better.
Once long ago, she’d been wildly in love with him, hopeful of a future, her dreams filled with the possibility of a tidy house in the suburbs and all the trimmings—kids, pets, rosebushes and a picket fence. They’d both been military brats, and even though Hamilton was nine years older, she’d been closer to him than to anyone else in her life.
After her mother’s death, Hamilton was the one she’d turned to. When her father had missed her birthday, a gift had always arrived from Hamilton. And when a boy had broken her heart, Hamilton had been there, convincing her that she was better off without him.
When she’d turned twenty-one, he’d kissed her for the first time…and kept on kissing her. She’d had boyfriends and a few serious flirtations, but kissing Hamilton had proven a revelation. For the first time in her life, she’d felt like a woman.
Liv had asked him to make love to her then, but he wouldn’t. Instead, he’d just driven her crazy with desire, showing her how it could be between them without ever fulfilling the promise. For years, they’d played that ridiculous game, until at twenty-seven, Liv had made it clear what she wanted—and what she didn’t.
A military life fell in the “didn’t want” category, and that had effectively ruled out a relationship with Hamilton. Not that he’d given up on her. Stubborn to the core, he insisted on thinking he could have it all without consideration of her wishes.
He made no bones about his feelings—he still kissed her on the rare occasions when Liv softened enough to let him, and whenever duty kept him from her, he stayed in touch with correspondence, cards and phone calls.
It might have been enough, except that year after year had passed, promotion after promotion—and still he’d stayed in the air force. Her heart broke each and every time.
Now at thirty-seven, as a lieutenant colonel, a B-2 stealth-bomber pilot, and second in command of a B-2 bomb squadron, Hamilton was career air force through and through, and Liv couldn’t seduce him away from his first love: flying.
The reality crushed her and made her more determined to live her life without him.
With a sigh, Liv pushed herself upright, away from Hamilton’s warmth and the lure of his comfort. She was alone, and she had to deal with her father’s death without allowing Hamilton to get too close.
Hamilton sighed, too, the sound ragged with exasperation, but he said nothing. He was the most contained, enigmatic person she knew—which made him perfect for the military, but difficult to understand in a relationship.
Liv’s father had admired Hamilton’s cool regard, while forever accusing her of being too emotional. And she couldn’t deny it. She was passionate about her work, determined with her students, and despite everything, she’d loved her father so much that now she felt physically wounded.
She wanted to be alone, but at the same time, she wanted Hamilton to stay close and keep on holding her. Forever.
