What, she wondered, did an orgasm really feel like? Sure, she was a doctor, and clinically she knew what an orgasm was. But if Callie’s vivid descriptions were accurate, she’d never experienced one.
Last night, however, had been a sample of what she might expect as she lay in bed feeling as if her body was on fire, juiciness spreading between her thighs, and a deep, haunting ache that cried for fulfillment.
She’d known Matt wanted to kiss her, but he hadn’t acted on it. And that was the right decision, since they had just met. He must have known that she’d find any sexual advances inappropriate so soon, and she respected his restraint. Yet, on another level, she had to admit it—she wished she’d been able to feel his beautiful mouth on hers. And when he’d taken those few blond strands of hair and gently tucked them behind her ear, her whole body had trembled at his gentle, almost reverent contact.
All this from just one touch! God, she must be desperate. Okay, she must be in desperate need of sex. But she didn’t want to blow this potential relationship by making a fatal misstep, either.
Callie had once counseled her to follow where her heart and body led her—it was that simple. Human beings were made to pleasure one another, Callie told her. And there was no sin in having a one-night stand with a man who turned her on.
Last night, when she’d had that torrid dream about Matt and awakened in a sweat, her heart pounding, her body hungry for satisfaction, she knew what she wanted was more than sex.
With Matt Culver, this was also about her heart. This man tempted her as no man had done before. Was it because he was in black ops and somewhat dangerous? Was it because he was courtly?
Frustrated, Dara slung the wide-webbed strap of the heavy ruck over her shoulder and hefted it off the bed. As they walked down the hall toward the door, Dara braced herself. Would Matt be waiting for them on the porch? Or would he disappoint her, threatening the trust she had already begun to invest in him?
She held her breath as Callie swung open the door.
And there he was, smiling and saying, “Good morning,” as they walked out onto the porch.
Matt was delighted to see Dara’s glorious hair down around her shoulders, the golden cloud now touched by the slanting rays of the sun. He saw caramel strands were mixed among the gold and wheat, setting off her wide eyes, her thick lashes framing them, making his lower body stir instantly to life.
Dara met his gaze a little uncertainly and replied, “Good morning.”
“Hey, let me take that,” he coaxed, reaching for her medical rucksack.
Dara was glad to give it to him. “Thanks, Matt.” She turned. “This is my sister, Callie. Callie, meet Sergeant Matt Culver.”
Callie smiled and lifted her hand. “Nice to meet you, Sergeant.”
“Call me Matt,” he said, shaking her hand. Releasing it, he hauled the strap over his shoulder. He gestured to the white van at the curb. “Mohammed is ready to take us over to the chow hall.”
“Can you come with us?” Dara asked, falling into step with him. “We’re running late this morning.”
“Yes. My CO’s fine with me doing a little PSD—personal security detail.” Seeing Dara frown, he added, “I’m a bodyguard for you two.” He gazed at her, his heart beginning to pound with need. This morning, Dara wore little makeup, just some pink lipstick on her soft mouth. “You okay with that?”
“Sure. Thank you for doing this. I know you didn’t have to.”
Callie caught up with them and skipped ahead to the van, sliding open the side door. “Matt, do you happen to have a brother?” she teased.
He grinned. “No, but I have an older sister, Talia, and a fraternal twin, Alexa.”
Pouting, Callie gave him a swooning look and stepped aside so he could place the medical ruck on a rear seat. “Just wondering.”
Matt caught the innuendo and turned to Dara, who was blushing to the roots of her blond hair. He’d wondered last night if she was a natural blond or a bottle blond. Of course, one way to find out was to take her to bed, which was exactly what he wanted to do. But the truth was, Matt didn’t give a damn if she was a bottle blond or not. Her hair was a perfect match for her English complexion.
“I’ve got a couple of operators looking to hook up with a pretty girl like you, though,” he teased her right back. He opened the passenger-side door for Callie, who winked at him, grinned, and climbed in.
“If they’re as hot as you are, I’d love to meet one of them, Matt. You can pick him, okay?”
He laughed and offered his hand to Dara, who stepped into the van’s rear seat. When her slender, gloved fingers gripped his hand, Matt steadied her, and once she was in, he moved into the van and slid the door shut. Sitting next to Dara in the backseat was the icing on the cake for Matt. They sat back as Mohammed put the van in gear, easing it out into the morning traffic.
“I like your hair,” Matt said softly, meeting Dara’s gaze. “It looks really nice down.” His fingers were itching to slide through that thick, beautiful cloak around her shoulders.
“Thanks,” she said. “You know, once we get to the orphanage, I have to put it up. Babies love grabbing hold of it, and so many of the younger children, who have never seen real blond hair, are absolutely hypnotized by it.”
Well, that answered his unspoken question.
“And I’ll bet they all want to touch it, too,” he finished.
Meanwhile, Matt could feel Dara’s tension. It was very subtle, but he’d been black ops too long and could sense subtleties most people missed. His gaze dropped to Dara’s parted lips, which was a major mistake, as his erection hardened. It was a damn good thing no one could see it beneath my bulky winter cammies, he thought.
Suddenly, Dara’s smile softened. “You know, the babies’ fingers are so tiny,” she said. “It takes a few minutes for me to slowly untangle them from my hair.”
“Babies know what they like,” Matt agreed, grinning. Just like me, he thought. He was sure the baby’s grabbing for her shining, golden hair was a matter of curiosity, but his reasons were different. He inhaled Dara’s scent, a mix of vanilla and cinnamon, which even now was wafting toward him. Oh, man, how badly he wanted to explore all of her, beginning with her golden hair and then traveling down her incredible body.
All night he’d had torrid dreams, and he’d kept waking up, throbbing for release. This woman drove him right over a cliff, and yet she was shy, which he found appealing. She brought out both the hunter and the protector in him. This was new in his experience, and he wasn’t really sure how to handle his conflicting emotions. As always, Matt would defer to his intuition for the best way to gain Dara’s trust, for without that, he had nothing. He was much more invested in her than seeing her as just a one-night stand. Much more …
As they pulled up to the large chow hall, Matt told the sisters, “We’ll leave everything in the van. I’ve got a private room reserved for us so we don’t have to sit out in the main area.”
“That’s great!” Callie said, slipping out of the front seat. “I just don’t feel like getting hit on by hundreds of guys first thing in the morning. I’m sure if they showed up, they’d know who we are, and we’d have a pretty stressful breakfast. Good thinking, Matt!”
Matt offered his hand to Dara, and she took it. That was a good sign. He watched her sleek hair slide across her shoulders, the sunlight catching it for a moment. God, this woman was heartbreakingly beautiful. Matt wished he was with her anywhere but here.
He’d already had fantasies of taking her to the Eagle’s Nest, the Delta Force secret apartment on base. Waking up from a dream of doing just that had left him sweating, hurting, and wanting. He had to explore her, had to know her as he’d never known another woman, and this need was driving him to distraction.
“Follow me, this way.” Matt guided them through the hallway, making a mental note to bring Mohammed, their driver, a box of breakfast food so he wouldn’t be sitting in the Humvee starving.
He led the two w
omen down around the back of the busy chow hall to four exit doors. Matt took out a key to door A.
Callie said, “You have a key?”
He opened the door. “I’m black ops.”
She chuckled and went inside. Dara followed. Matt slipped the key into his pocket and pointed to a door on the right. “You’re in there.”
Dara was pleased as she pushed the door open and they saw two cooks standing at the other end of the room with grills and a griddle, waiting for their orders. The tables were round and had white linen tablecloths spread across them.
She looked over at Matt. “I never knew this was here,” she said wonderingly.
“This is the warrant officers’ room,” he explained. “Come on, let’s put in our orders, and then we can get served coffee and juice out here.”
She gave him a look. “How did you pull this off, Matt? You’re a sergeant, not a warrant officer.”
Matt shrugged indifferently. “I know a few people,” was all he’d say. “Come on, let’s eat.”
Callie was brimming with questions as they ate. Dara had ordered a stack of pancakes with blueberry syrup and three small sausage links. She ate delicately and didn’t say much. She was a good listener and let Callie happily chatter on.
Matt had ordered six eggs, six sausage links, and six pieces of toast. He washed it all down with a lot of coffee.
Callie had ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. She ate hungrily, while Dara ate like a bird, picking at her food. Matt had asked the cooks to put together some Middle Eastern breakfast fare for Mohammed. When it was ready, he carried the box to the driver, who accepted it gratefully. Matt then went back in to finish off his meal.
Matt liked Dara’s red angora sweater, which brought out the natural pink in her cheeks. The golden strands of her hair gleamed against the sweater and made him think of Christmas. “Don’t your parents miss you both at this time of year?” he asked her.
Dara nodded. “Yes, but our parents are very charity-oriented. Our dad, who’s an orthopedic surgeon, travels to Africa twice a year with another charity and offers his services at no charge.”
Callie added, “Our parents met in Africa, both working for a charity. I think I told you our mom is a registered nurse. She has a favorite charity in the Appalachians, where she goes four times a year to donate a week to a free medical clinic.”
Matt nodded. “You’ve got charity in your blood. Now I see why you’re over here, Callie.”
“We love helping out. Dara and I grew up going with Mom and Dad on their volunteer weeks.”
“And if we’re home at Thanksgiving or Christmas,” Dara said, “we give our time to local kitchens to feed the poor and homeless.” She cut into the last link of sausage.
“Do you ever celebrate those holidays at home for yourself?” he asked.
“Oh, sure,” Callie said, slathering butter on her sourdough toast. “We come home after our volunteer work and share a meal together. It’s not like we deny ourselves family time.”
“That’s good to know,” Matt said.
“Dara was saying you have some family in Turkey?” Callie probed curiously.
“Actually,” Matt said, giving Dara a warm look, “we three kids have family in Kuşadası, Turkey, and Athens, Greece. Our folks trade certain holidays with all of our far-flung relatives. For example, when we were kids growing up, we might spend Thanksgiving in Athens with our cousin Angelo and his wife, Maria. Even though neither country has this holiday in their countries, they want us to come over and celebrate it anyway.” Matt grinned. “Believe me, Greeks and Turks will use any excuse to have a party.” He chuckled. “At Christmas, it might be all of them flying into Alexandria, Virginia, where we lived. And on Easter, we’d fly over to Kuşadası and celebrate with our Turkish uncles and aunts.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of traveling,” Cassie said. “And it probably costs lots of money to do it.”
Matt nodded. “Fortunately, Mom’s family owns a shipping company, so we’d fly in their company jet to Athens or Kuşadası.”
Dara stared at him. “Really?”
“They can afford to do that kind of thing,” he hesitantly admitted. Matt didn’t want to emphasize the family’s wealth because he wanted Dara to accept him for himself. The money he made in black ops was more than what others made in the military, but by civilian standards it wasn’t much. “As kids, we didn’t know we were well off; we just knew we loved flying around and seeing our relatives. And our global family is tight, so getting to see them was more important.”
Raising her brows, Dara said, “I’m sure it was a huge adventure for the three of you kids.”
He smiled fondly. “Yeah, you could say that. Hunting for Easter eggs we’d colored the night before and then hidden in the grass at my uncle’s villa the next morning was always fun for us.”
“Did you join the Army because your father was in the military?” Dara asked, finishing off her plate of food.
“Our parents believe you owe your country service, sort of like your family, only our focus was on serving in the military. Dad has never taken our freedoms for granted. And we don’t either.”
“We never should forget our freedom was paid in blood by so many,” Dara agreed, sipping her coffee. “When you see how awful it is here in Afghanistan and you go home, you realize how well-off we are. We have so much, and these poor people have so little, it breaks my heart.”
“My whole family runs a charity,” Matt said.
Callie perked up. “Really? What’s the name of it?”
“Delos.”
“Oh, you’re kidding me!” Callie gasped. Her eyes rounded. “Seriously, Matt?”
He smiled a little. “Yes. Why?”
Callie leaned across the table and in a stage whisper said to Dara, “It’s only the world’s largest charity! Dara, you’ve heard of it, haven’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes, but only in passing. I’m a physician, and I’m not really into the charity world as much as you are, Callie.”
“Last I heard, you had fifteen hundred individual charities on every continent,” Callie said to Matt.
“It’s up to eighteen hundred now. My grandmother, Aysun, started Delos when she was eighteen years old in 1950,” Matt said. “Her parents were comfortably fixed and asked her what she wanted as a graduation gift. She told them she wanted to have a global charity and to name it Delos, after the island where Apollo and Artemis were born, according to Greek myth. My mom, Dilara, is a very softhearted person, too. It actually hurts her to see people suffer, or starve, or go without education. My grandmother handed her the reins to Delos in 1990.”
Callie snapped her fingers. “That’s right! Delos actually has three types of charities under one name. One is for education, one for the needs of women and children, and one for agricultural progress. Right?”
Matt pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth with the white linen napkin. “My grandmother created the Home School Foundation, which is an educational charity; Safe House, for women without income who need to learn how to run their own small businesses; and the Farm Foundation, which teaches farmers animal husbandry and the latest farming methods to get higher yields in their crops.”
Dara stared at him. “That’s incredible.” She turned to Callie. “Did you know this?”
“Sure,” she said. “The Hope Charity works with Delos from time to time. In fact, right now we’re getting matching funds from them to build a schoolhouse in a village just outside Kabul. Delos is going to give us books, school supplies, chalkboards, erasers, and anything else we need.”
Dara shook her head and smiled over at Matt. “What synchronicity!”
Matt shrugged. “I didn’t know that, Callie. My mom runs the charities from our headquarters in Alexandria, Virginia, so I don’t know a whole lot about them because I have my own career here in the Army. I’m really happy to hear that they’re helping your charity.”
“Amazing,” Callie said, excited. “The
Hope Charity is small in comparison to Delos, and we didn’t have funds to do more than build the schoolhouse. But when Maggie, who owns the Hope Charity, called the Delos headquarters, they immediately agreed to donate all the supplies we’d need.” Her eyes softened and she pressed her hand to her heart. “No wonder I like you so much!” Callie declared, patting his shoulder in a sisterly fashion.
Matt looked embarrassed. “It’s my mom who’s generous, Callie. She’s often told me that she works with other charities around the world.”
“Your mom must be a very busy woman,” Dara murmured, seeing Matt in an entirely new light.
“She’s a happy person,” Matt said. “Because she loves what she does.”
“She’s only about ten miles from where I work and live,” Dara said. “I’d love to meet her, maybe go to lunch with her when I get back. I could donate a week of my time to her if you have charities in the U.S.”
Matt held her warm blue gaze, hearing the question in her husky voice, seeing the emotion close to the surface in her eyes. Dara was easily touched. She had that quality in common with his mom, and it affected him deeply.
“I can let Mom know,” he said. “I’m sure she’d like to meet you both. Delos works with a number of different medical volunteer groups, and we bring in surgeons, eye doctors, and dentists to impoverished areas of the United States.”
“I’d love that to happen,” Dara said. “After meeting her son, I’m sure the woman who started it all has great stature and compassion. And that’s just the kind of person I like to surround myself with.”
“My mother would love the two of you,” Matt confided. “She likes people who have big hearts and want to share what they have. I’ll make it happen.”
What he didn’t say was that he had other plans, now that this conversation had revealed some surprising twists and turns.
CHAPTER 4
The moment Dara walked into the Hope Charity orphanage, she was surrounded by children from ages three through twelve. The doe-eyed little girls hung back while the boys, more assertive, rushed forward, throwing their spindly arms around Dara’s legs or hips, depending on what they could reach. Most of them remembered her from last year.
Forged in Fire (Delos Series Book 3) Page 5
