by Debra Webb
And now that she had seen it, it was her problem, too.
~*~
“So this often happens when the kids are around?” Jane asked slowly and from outside Tom’s hiding place.
Feeling like a complete idiot, Tom quickly pulled on the sweats Jane had just handed him through the bushes. She hadn’t brought underwear, and he wasn’t about to ask her to go back for them.
“Yeah,” he said, as he yanked the T-shirt over his head. “The kids do it to each other all the time.” Hopping on one foot, he pulled on and tied first one sneaker and then the other. “They even did it to Reg once.” He smiled at the memory. Reg had been fit to be tied. A couple of girls had discovered that Reg liked an occasional midnight dip. Reg, a cluster of leaves held over private areas front and back, had stormed into Tom’s cabin that night. He had been so irate and determined to ensure that Tom found the culprits that he hadn’t even taken the time to put on any clothes first.
“Reg?” Jane said incredulously. “I’ll bet that didn’t go over so well.”
Straightening, Tom combed his fingers through his mussed, still damp hair. “Nope.”
He stepped out of the bushes, purposefully avoiding eye contact with his little rescuer. He hadn’t missed the way her mouth dropped open or that shocked expression that had captured her pretty face when the branch slipped from his grasp. The fact that he had been semi-aroused simply by her presence hadn’t helped any. His male ego worried with the notion that she had either been pleased at what she saw or horrified. He frowned. He had to stop thinking about sex in connection with Jane Passerella.
“Reg wasn’t pleased with the way I handled the girls’ punishment either,” Tom explained further, forcing his thoughts back to her question rather than the tense moment that had passed between them.
Jane shifted awkwardly, her gaze anywhere but on him. She was clearly as uncomfortable as he was. “That’s why you think he did this?”
“Yeah. He was probably just passing by and took the opportunity to settle an old score.” Tom suddenly noticed the towel and bottle of something resembling shampoo Jane clutched under one arm. She had been headed for the shower. His mouth went dry at the image that abruptly came to mind. Jane naked, water sluicing over her satiny skin. Her silky hair wet and hanging down her back. His gut twisted with need, and desire weighed heavy in his loins. He blinked, then gave himself a mental kick. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d lost his mind, that was the problem.
“Maybe we should do cabin checks,” he suggested. Focus, Tom old boy. Now was the time to focus on the business at hand—running this damned little retreat, not having your way with the newest PT coach. He was too grateful for the help to screw this up.
Jane looked his straight in the eye then. “You sound somewhat less convinced that those sweet southern belles are too old for shenanigans.” A smile teased her full lips, making his heart, as well as other parts of his anatomy, react.
“After last night, I wouldn’t put anything past them.” He glanced at her towel again. “If you’re headed for the showers I can do the cabin checks myself,” he offered, though he hoped she would accompany him.
Jane shrugged. “I can hit the showers afterward.”
Tom nodded and started forward. And maybe you’ll ask me to join you. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his sweats and forced that wicked, though appealing, idea from his mind. He wasn’t being fair to Jane. She was here to teach these women how to get in shape, not assuage his personal needs. He licked his hungry lips. Hell, he had hardly noticed his needs in too long to remember until she came along. He frowned. What was it about this woman that tempted him so? Damned if he wouldn’t give most anything to find out.
Sandra and the usual suspects that hung out with her—Mildred, Beulah, and Veronica—appeared to be engrossed in a game of Go Fish in their cabin. The rest of the ladies were watching videos in the recreation center. Reg was reading in the dining room while Hattie was finishing up for the night. The pair usually played a game or two of Rook before going to their respective cabins. Reg swore he knew nothing about what had happened to Tom’s clothes. And Tom knew the man well enough to know that he was telling the truth. That meant the culprit had to be one or more of the ladies.
Despite the pilfering of his attire, all appeared to be in order, but Tom had a nagging hunch that nothing was as it seemed.
“There’s no reason for you to walk me to the showers,” Jane argued when she turned to go, and Tom followed. “I can take care of myself.”
Tom had no doubt that Jane could take care of herself, but he just wasn’t ready to part company with her yet. “I don’t mind,” he countered nonchalantly. “Like I told you, I take a walk every night anyway. I might as well get a head start on it now.”
Frustrated with his persistence, Jane relented and headed for the showers. The image of Tom naked and aroused kept playing in vivid color across the private theater of her mind. How was she supposed to keep that picture out of her head? She moistened her lips. The man was gloriously male. Sinfully sculpted in hard muscle and tanned skin. Heat pooled in just the right place when she considered how it would feel to touch that golden skin. To glide her palms over that muscled terrain. To taste those full, sensuous lips. Desire barbed through her, making her moist where she was already too warm.
Jane took a long, slow breath and forced her heart beat to return to normal. She stole a glance at the man beside her as they neared their destination. He seemed as tense as she. She supposed that having had his clothes stolen, then being exposed to a total stranger would leave him feeling a bit out of sorts. If she felt awkward, how must he feel?
Disconcerted, she paused outside the door leading into the women’s shower facility. The bright light of the moon was mostly blocked by the trees, but a dim glow spilled from the open doorway, casting Tom’s handsome features in becoming shadow.
“I…I want you to know that what happened this evening was no big deal,” she said carefully, forcing herself to make eye contact. She hoped the light was low enough that he couldn’t see the heat of remembered embarrassment rising in her cheeks.
His gaze darted side to side before locking with hers once more. “Okay,” he said just as carefully, as if he wasn’t quite sure what she meant.
Jane swallowed to clear her throat. “I mean, as a soldier I’ve seen plenty of naked men.”
Tom nodded once. A mixture of confusion and amusement lit up those amazing blue eyes. “That’s good to know,” he replied politely, but the grin overtaking his lips belied his tone.
Jane’s choice of words echoed in her ears. Her cheeks flamed red-hot now. “That’s not what I mean…I mean,” she stammered. “It was…it was no big deal.”
His growing amusement more than evident now, Tom opened his mouth two full seconds before he spoke. “Oo…kay,” he said, drawing out the one word.
She shook her head in self-disgust. “I don’t mean that either. I mean—”
Two long fingers pressed lightly against her lips. “I know what you mean,” he said softly, all signs of amusement gone now.
Fire zipped straight from her lips to her breasts, making them tingle. Desire struck Jane hard, rendering her self-control totally inoperative. Her towel and shampoo fell unnoticed to the ground. Those perfect artist’s fingers traced her jaw, then slid lower to curl around her neck. His gaze holding hers captive, he pulled her closer, then leaned down to align his mouth with hers. Jane’s breath caught in expectation of his kiss. She prayed he wouldn’t be interrupted this time. His warm breath whispered across her lips.
“I’m going to kiss you, Jane,” he murmured before allowing the first, gentle brush of his lips. He cupped her face with both hands, paused two beats to give her time to protest, then settled his mouth firmly over hers, making good on his warning.
Too many sensations to name bubbled up inside her.
She knew she should stop this. It wasn’t right. She knew better. But the feel of his lips against h
ers, his hands caressing her face so tenderly—she couldn’t bring anything that felt this wonderful to an end. She wanted more.
Hesitantly, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she allowed herself to respond. Her palms molded to his broad chest. The feel of heat and rock-hard muscle made her quiver. His now familiar male scent filled her lungs. Her fingers fisted in the soft cotton of his T-shirt, drawing him closer. She wanted to feel his body against hers, to saturate her senses with Tom Caldwell.
His tongue traced the seam on her lips and Jane’s pulse raced. Tentatively, she opened for him. Tom filled her with his taste, hot and excited. A sound, her moan of approval, echoed between them. Her heart pounded with the dizzying emotions raging through her veins. Somehow his hands found their way to her hips. He lifted her against his full erection. She moaned again…felt her body moisten in anticipation.
Tom stilled.
His taunting mouth moved away from hers ever so slightly, but the feel of his uneven breath against her ultra-sensitive lips sent renewed desire rushing through her. She needed more. She wanted more. But he had stopped. She held on tightly and braced herself against the cry of protest that that swelled in her throat.
He pressed his forehead to hers and let go a mighty breath. “How am I supposed to just walk away after that?” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. Those magic fingers of his found their way back to the pounding pulse point at the base of her throat.
She chewed her lower lip until it hurt, the pain jerking her back to reality. “We shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”
He tensed. She felt the almost imperceptible change even before he straightened, moving slightly away from her.
“Look at me, Jane,” he commanded, his voice still soft despite the tension now radiating from him.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. His gaze was as uncertain as hers surely was.
“Now tell me it was a mistake.”
She ordered her fingers to relax their hold on his shirt and dropped her arms to her side. Reality hit her like a tidal wave. She flinched. “It was a mistake,” she forced herself to say, though her words lacked the conviction she knew she should feel. “In the Army we would call it—”
“I know what you would call it,” he said sharply.
Jane blinked at his curt reply. “I’m sorry,” she offered. She was a highly trained soldier. She had spent years training to react on instinct, not emotion. This shouldn’t have happened. It was her fault.
Tom plowed his fingers through his hair and released a shaky breath. He shook his head slowly from side to side. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I was out of line.” A half-hearted smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “It won’t happen again.”
He looked so sincere, yet so confused. She ached to put everything else aside and learn the pleasures of knowing this man fully. She produced a weak smile of her own, and pushed away the emotions she knew she should not feel. “We’re adults. We can handle the situation.”
He nodded his agreement. “Well, I’ll just say good night, then.” Tom backed up a step.
“Good night,” Jane managed.
Both remembered the towel and shampoo on the ground at precisely the same instant and reached for them. Their fingers tangled on the terry cloth. They stood up simultaneously. Whether Tom was aware of it or not, his blue eyes gave away all that was on his mind as he relinquished his hold on the towel. He wanted her, Jane realized, just as much as she wanted him.
He gave her another of those almost-smiles, turned and disappeared into the darkness. Jane closed her eyes and released a long breath. Okay, she told herself, get a grip. She was on assignment here, not personal leave. She had orders—orders straight from the general himself. She could not fail under any circumstances. Nothing was going to get in her way.
Not even Tom.
Summoning her resolve, Jane grabbed her bottle of shampoo and strode purposefully into the shower facility. Tom was a nice guy and she liked him. But he couldn’t add another stripe to her sleeve. He couldn’t influence her future in the military. General Suddath could. No way could she risk screwing up on this assignment.
Slowing as her surroundings once more came to the forefront of her awareness, Jane frowned. The facility had twelve shower stalls, six on each side. All but the one on the right at the far end were marked out of order. How could that be? They were all working last night. Then she remembered Tom saying something about the plumbing being on the fritz. Maybe the women’s showers were affected as well as the men’s.
She placed her towel on the wooden bench outside the stall. Humming to distract herself, she twisted both knobs on the faucet open all the way. Experience had taught her that it took some time to get the hot water going, if there was any left. While the spray blasted against the old, utilitarian tile, she toed off her running shoes, rolled off her socks and tucked them inside her shoes. The Camp Serenity T-shirt went next, then the sweatpants. Jane folded her clothes and stacked them in a neat pile on the bench. She removed her bra and panties next, adding them to the growing pile.
After adjusting the water to a bearable but still plenty-hot temperature, she stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes for a long moment and allowed the heat and steam to relax her tense muscles. Her eyes still closed, with the hot spray aimed directly on her neck and shoulders, she took her time undoing her long braid. Despite her best efforts she found herself imagining how it would feel to burrow her fingers into Tom’s thick blond hair, and have him respond in kind. A smile slid across her lips as she considered how he had tasted. He had obviously drunk flavored coffee just before his little dip and had tasted pleasantly of French Vanilla. And he had tasted hot, very hot. She had felt his eagerness, his need.
Jane threaded her fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp as she tilted her head back beneath the spray. Her breasts tingled when she recalled the memory of how his body had felt against hers. He had been hard for her. Jane’s nipples reacted. He hadn’t touched her breasts. How would it have felt, she wondered, to have his hand close firmly around her breast? To have his fingers roll and pinch her tightly budded nipple? To have his mouth close over that aching part of her and suck…hard.
Tension coiled inside Jane as she conjured his naked image to mind. How would it feel to have that much powerful masculinity pressing down on her? To have him—all of him—inside her?
Jane’s eyes popped open. She blinked, twice. She couldn’t think like that. She could not have an affair with Tom Caldwell. The kiss was a mistake. These fantasies were a mistake.
She had to stop thinking about him as anything other than her superior. This assignment would be over in a few weeks and she would be going back to the post. Tom would go back to the high school where he taught. They would likely never see each other again.
Jane swallowed tightly. There was something about that last thought that left her aching. But it was the truth. She had always been honest with herself. She wasn’t about to change now. The feelings she and Tom were experiencing were nothing more than sexual chemistry. Lust. They had nothing in common, and certainly had no future together.
And since Jane didn’t do casual affairs, there appeared to be no point in giving the idea any further consideration. It would be a waste of energy. She leaned out and grabbed her bottle of shampoo. She had to focus on anything that didn’t involve Tom Caldwell. Washing her hair would do the trick. Her thick locks had gotten so long that they were a bit of a chore to wash. Surely something as mundane as hair washing wouldn’t trip any memory triggers.
Jane squirted a generous portion of shampoo onto her hair, then drew her lips down in a disgusted scowl. She had forgotten her body gel. Well, she could use the shampoo for soap, she decided. She squeezed a golden bead across her chest and down her abdomen before setting the bottle aside. She tunneled her fingers into her hair and worked the shampoo in. She halted abruptly. Something wasn’t right.
Jane pulled her right hand from her hair and stare
d at the shampoo clinging to her fingers. She scissored her fingers opened and then closed. They stuck together as if her hand were covered in glue. She brought her hand to her nose and sniffed. This wasn’t her shampoo. Jane rubbed the thick goo between her fingers.
Realization dawned.
She picked up the shampoo bottle and inspected it more closely, cursing under her breath.
Honey.
Someone had poured out her shampoo and filled the bottle with honey. And now Jane had the stuff squirted in her hair. She glared down at her chest. Not to mention the sticky syrup, now mixed with hot water droplets, oozing down her midsection.
Well, she fumed, there wouldn’t be a damned thing sweet about her retaliation.
Maybe charming southern ladies got more flies with honey than they did with vinegar, but hard-ass drill sergeants got what they wanted by marching, crawling, or climbing until they found it.
Chapter Five
“Sandra Suddath is mine,” Jane stated hotly. She shifted in front of Tom’s desk to face him more fully.
“Back off, sister,” Hattie hissed, “She’s mine.”
“You’re both wrong,” Reg snapped, hands on hips, shoulders thrown back for emphasis, “the woman is mine.”
“Now hold on just one minute here.” Tom looked from one indignant face to the other. This morning’s staff meeting had turned into a strategy session on vengeance. “I know Sandra has gotten to all three of you, but the woman belongs to the general, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Reg lifted one unrepentant eyebrow in response and Hattie merely glared at Tom, but Jane looked truly deflated.
“You’re right,” she said reluctantly. “I would hate to get busted to private and shipped off to the end of nowhere just because I lost my cool with the post commander’s wife.” Anger flared in those expressive brown eyes. “But it took me almost an hour to wash the honey out of my hair.”
