Waiting... On You (Force Recon Marines)

by S A Monk

  “Give me a few minutes, then the head is all yours,” she called out from the last step.

  Nick spun away from the open cabin door and ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he had blown it, that he had hurt and embarrassed her. Furious with himself, he walked across the deck to brace his hands on the boat’s railing and look out over the bay beyond.

  All night, he’d wanted her, ached for her. Each breath he’d taken had filled his nostrils with her sweet scent, causing him to envision how she might have splashed perfume all over herself. Every time she had crossed and uncrossed those fantastic legs of hers, his eyes had been drawn to their sinewy length. And every time he had touched her, and heaven help him, he’d been compelled to touch her constantly all evening, he’d felt her warm, satin-soft skin beneath his rough fingertips. It had been torture, pure torture, and now he wasn’t going to be able to relieve any of it because, damn it all, she was half-shot!

  He wasn’t going to make love to her while she was intoxicated. He liked to think of himself as a gentleman. He was definitely her friend. He sure as hell didn’t want to be accused of taking unfair advantage of her again! His brother’s anger at him for being half drunk when he had made love to her the first time hadn’t set well with him. He wanted both of them to be clearheaded the next time they made love. No excuses as to why it happened. But, shit, none of his rationalization relieved how rotten he felt at the moment!

  DOWNSTAIRS, HANNA UNDRESSED and got ready for bed as quickly as she could. She left all the lights out except for the one in the bathroom. In its dim light, she assembled Nick’s bed from the booth-like eating area, next to the galley. The table dropped down between the seats to form a double bed and the cushions unfolded to make a mattress. She’d never slept in the converted bed, herself. It looked rather hard and uncomfortable. It certainly wouldn’t be as soft as her bed below the foredeck. But it didn’t appear they were going to be sharing that tonight.

  From a cupboard above the makeshift bed, she pulled down two pillows, a sheet and a blanket. For a few moments, she just hugged them fiercely against her chest, while tears welled in her eyes, then slid slowly down her cheeks to a pillow. Then, with a curse, she threw everything onto the bed. Let him make his own bed, she decided as she walked into her room across the cabin. Before she climbed into the huge odd shaped bed that filled the room almost completely, she called out to Nick to tell him the head was all his.

  By the time he came down, she was buried under her down-filled quilt, staring at the ceiling, wishing she didn’t hear him making all the little noises people made when they got ready for bed. She’d known him all her life, but she wondered at that moment what he wore to bed. When they were kids, spending the night at one another’s houses, he used to wear flannel pajamas with superheroes depicted on them. Then, when they were teenagers and had gone camping together, he’d slipped into his sleeping bag in jeans and a t-shirt.

  But what did he wear now? Picturing him in his childhood superhero pajamas made her giggle in the dark. She didn’t think he’d go to bed in his clothes. No doubt, he’d be wearing his underwear, or nothing.

  Oh geez! Don’t go there! Do not imagine him naked, she scolded herself, but, of course, it didn’t do any good. The image just wouldn’t go away once it was implanted in her brain.

  She turned onto one side, then another. She pulled the quilt over her head. It got too hot. She kicked it off. She rearranged her pillows, punched them, turned onto her stomach and covered her head with them. Swearing mutely beneath them, she cursed the man in the other room, certain he was soundly asleep snoring by now, not giving her a second’s thought. If he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, he most certainly would not be thinking of her in here, wondering what she had worn to bed.

  Go to sleep, Hanna! Forget the damn man! It was a reprimand that she repeated over and over to herself like counting sheep, until she finally fell into a restless, agitated sleep.

  WITH HIS HANDS FOLDED BEHIND HIS HEAD, Nick Kelly listened to the woman in the bedroom a few feet away. Every time she tossed and turned, the wood frame beneath her mattress creaked and groaned.

  Why was she tossing and turning so much? Was she too hot in there? What did she have on anyway? Aw, hell, no guess work there! He knew Hanna Wallace well enough to be certain it would be a set of long-sleeved, long-legged pajamas, probably flannel. No skimpy, lacy nightie or negligee for her. She was much too conservative for something like that. She didn’t openly display her assets. She didn’t even flirt. She just wore her beauty beneath her quiet dignity. Only she had no idea that she truly was beautiful. Colleen had been right about that.

  He had spent half the night wondering how fast he could get her out of her sexy little dress, and the other half staring at her mouth, thinking how much he wanted to lick all that frosted pink lipstick off. She had the nicest shaped mouth, soft and naturally pouty. The way her lips tilted slightly upwards at each corner made her seem like she wore a perpetual, secret smile. When he teased her, he could coax a really big smile out of her, one that deepened the barely perceptible dimples in her cheeks. He loved her smiles— her dreamy ones, her secret ones, her full-fledged ones.

  And he loved her bottle green eyes. They could sparkle like an emerald in the sunlight. They were so clear, so guileless, so fathomless. He loved it when they darkened with pleasure or lit up with laughter. And he really liked the way she’d had her hair cut and colored, too. The honey blonde color had always suited her, but the highlights she’d added right after he’d come home emphasized her flawless, peach toned complexion. The shorter, softer style was sexy and feminine. He liked the way it swung around her neck and jaw every time she moved.

  At Kurt’s tonight, her natural shyness had faded with each glass of wine she’d drunk. Walking her back to the boat had not exactly been a brilliant idea, though. In the moonlight, under the stars, all he’d wanted to do was stop and kiss her senseless.

  Lord! What was he going to do about the beautiful doctor? He ached for her so much, he was in physical pain, even after a cold shower. He wanted to go into that bedroom of hers and crawl beneath the covers with her, strip her pajamas off, and hold her naked in his arms. He remembered exactly how exquisitely soft her skin had felt the last time he had made love to her.

  His life was so exacting and demanding. Comfort and softness were foreign to his lifestyle. Force Recon, the Marines, the military were harsh taskmasters. Often, when the conditions he lived in got the worst, he’d remember being in Hanna’s arms, feeling her incredible warmth and softness.

  What would she do if he went into her room and asked her to let him sleep with her tonight? He toyed with the question. But the truth was, he was afraid to go in there and ask. His need for her and the way he’d come to feel about her made him vulnerable.

  What if she turned him away, told him no? She was his closest friend. He didn’t want to jeopardize or destroy that. He needed her friendship. He always had. It was why he hadn’t pressed her about the one time they had made love three years ago. He didn’t want her feeling uncomfortable around him. He didn’t want her finding reasons not to be with him because she’d be afraid he’d pressure her to sleep with him again.

  Then there was still the matter of his brother. He thought Lance and Hanna were still simply good friends, but he wasn’t entirely sure. And even though Ashley had told him she didn’t think Hanna was seeing anyone, he still wasn’t sure of that, either. He could ask her, but he was a coward, pure and simple. He was afraid of her answer.

  But she had clearly been disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her tonight. So what was he to make of that? Did she want him or not? She’d been angry at him, too. He’d heard it in her voice when she’d called him down. And he’d noticed the way she’d just dumped the bedclothes on his bed, in one big heap. His pillow had been strangely damp, too. Had she been crying?

  Holy shit! How was a man supposed to figure out what a woman wanted, especially a man who spent most of his time with other men?
Beyond the physical release they provided occasionally, women didn’t exactly play a prominent role in his life. Damn it! He was too tough, too old, for this nonsense!

  He turned onto his side and slammed his fist into his pillow to make a deeper dent for his head. When that position didn’t help relax him, he rolled onto his stomach and crossed his arms beneath his pillow. Everything felt lumpy. He rolled onto his other side, then onto his back again. The wind picked up and the boat began to rock gently. He listened to the harbor bells on the buoys in the bay. The rocking and the soft lapping of water against the hull of the boat finally lulled him to sleep.

  CHAPTER 16

  SOMEONE WAS KNOCKING ON HER DOOR. Yet that couldn’t be. There was no real door to her bedroom, only a folding, pleated screen. But there was a persistent tap, tap, tap. It penetrated her restless sleep so insistently, she knew it couldn’t be a dream.

  She sat up groggily to listen. Her head swam a little. Too much wine, she remembered. She checked her wrist watch. She’d been asleep several hours. The wind had picked up outside. The boat was rocking. Something must have come loose up on deck. It sounded like metal banging against wood.

  She groped around in the darkness for her glasses, but couldn’t find them. Damn, where had she left them? She couldn’t see well enough without them to go up on deck to check the rigging.

  After a futile search through her bedcovers and under her pillows, she crawled carefully to the end of the bed and climbed down. Until she found her glasses, she had to use her hands to feel her way. In the head, she groped along the narrow counter top, and came up empty handed.

  The last time she remembered wearing them was when she had gotten Nick’s bedding down. She’d been crying. She’d taken them of

  f to wipe away her tears and set them on the galley countertop. She must have left them in the galley, right next to where he was sleeping. Great!

  It was really dark inside the cabin. She didn’t dare turn a light on for fear of waking Nick. Dimly, she could make out sections of the cabin. The shadows and shapes were familiar to her. Still, she had to edge her way along the wall, her hands extended to feel her way.

  In the galley, she peered through the darkness toward Nick’s bunk. She couldn’t see him, but she heard him, snoring. The rat! He seemed to be deeply asleep, a fact that both relieved her and angered her.

  At the kitchen sink, she put her hands on the counter top and felt around. She knocked over a cup, but caught it before it made a sound. Her fingers splayed wide in their silent search. Distracted by an alteration in Nick’s snoring, she knocked over an empty plastic bowl that was also on the counter. Before she could recover it, it slid off, right onto the spot where Nick’s head should have been.

  “Crap!”

  She was suddenly grabbed from behind and slammed up against a wall of solid, inflexible muscle. A brawny male forearm came over her shoulder in a cross hold that was like an ever-tightening vise. Air whooshed from her lungs.

  Managing to swivel her head sideways a bare inch, Hanna saw the naked blade of a huge, partially serrated knife halt inches from her throat. She tried to scream, but it was a strangled sound. Her hands rose to the forearm across her neck and her nails dug deep into skin to loosen the deadly grip. She didn’t dare try any of the moves Nick had taught her, for fear she’d get her throat cut.

  As instantly as it began, the attack ended. Suddenly she was free. She whirled and stumbled away, trying to see who her attacker was. A blurry big dark shadow stood across from her. She groped along the wall for the brass lamp she knew was bolted there. Turning it on did little to clarify the image of the man across the room. For a few seconds, terrifying images of someone from the Triad raced through her mind.

  Nick watched every expression that crossed Hanna’s face. Cursing, he slipped his Ka-Bar back under his pillow, then turned toward Hanna. Her big green eyes grew even bigger. He reached over to the galley countertop for her glasses. She was looking at him like he was some kind of monster.

  “Hanna! Honey, it’s me. Here, put your glasses on.” He stretched out an arm and carefully handed them to her. “I’m sorry about the knife! I heard someone in the cabin, and I reacted.”

  Anger began to replace the shock. She gestured toward his bed. “Do you always sleep with that thing nearby?”

  “Well, yeah... when I’m on a mission. We’re dealing with some dangerous men here, and I....” He took a step toward her, and hated the way she took a step back, away from him. She was still peering at him as if she’d never seen him before.

  He wasn’t going to let her be frightened of him, damn it. He saw her anger replace some of her shock, but the fear was still there. He moved slowly toward her, until he was standing directly in front of her. He didn’t touch her. He just stood before her.

  “I’m so sorry I scared you like that.” When she started to retreat again, he stopped her by gently grasping her upper arms. “You must know I would never ever hurt you, Hanna.”

  She stared at the center of his white t-shirted chest, knowing that he could feel her involuntary trembling. “The wind picked up, and I thought I heard some rigging come loose up on deck. I was going to check on it, but I couldn’t find my glasses. I couldn’t see anything in the dark. I was looking for my glasses in the galley, near your bunk, when I knocked over a plastic bowl. Did it hit you on the head?” She lifted her lashes and peeked up at him.

  A slight grin flickered at the corners of his mouth. “I’d just come down from up on deck. I heard the rattling, too. I saw your shadow. Didn’t know it was you.” He shrugged guiltily. “I am sorry I scared you.”

  Well, she’d scared him, too, she guessed. And she did know he would never hurt her, but she was still shaken. “Maybe you need glasses, too, huh?” She tried for a little levity, not certain it succeeded.

  For a fraction of a second, there had been such violence in him. It reminded her that he wasn’t the boy she’d grown up with. For the last twenty years, he’d lived a dangerous, violent way of life. He’d been trained to kill, with any number of weapons, in any number of ways, she imagined, with his bare hands if necessary.

  She recalled the decal she’d seen on the sleeve of his leather jacket. It read: “Swift, Silent, and Deadly.” His units’ motto, she assumed. Obviously, Colonel Nick Kelly was all those things. She’d just seen a frightening example of how swift, silent, and deadly he could be. She healed for a living. He killed. The realization hit her with sudden chill.

  “Aw, Hanna. Don’t look at me that way,” Nick pleaded softly as he watched her face and eyes. Her small shudder cut him to the quick. “I’m not a monster.”

  That penetrated her shell-shocked emotions. In spite of what he did for a living, she could never think of him as a monster. Of course, he’d been taught to kill. A soldier had to learn that or die. She’d just never seen an example of his abilities.

  “I guess it was the knife,” she tried to explain. “I thought you were going to cut my throat for a second.” If she had been the enemy, she wouldn’t have stood a chance. Another shudder raced across her skin.Nick swore and pulled her swiftly into his arms. “I would not have cut your throat, Hanna! I’m trained to react.... To come alert at any sound, but, God, I would not have cut your throat.”

  He was holding her so tight, she could barely breathe, but she did manage a short, strangled laugh. “That’ll teach me never to creep around in the dark like that when you’re around!”

  “I should have remembered that you leave your glasses everywhere. I over-reacted. “He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back in soothing circles, then set her back from him in order to look at her. His smoky gray eyes were full of tenderness. “You okay, now?”

  She looked up at him and saw the man she had loved all her life. They had both changed some in all the years they had lived apart, and yet the essence of who Nick Kelly was had not changed, despite what he did for a living. She still saw a good man, with a good heart. She was sure that when he had to k
ill, he did so with regret, not pleasure.

  “I’m okay now,” she finally reassured him with a true smile. “I better go check the rigging.”

  “I fixed it. Everything is fine up there now.”

  She stood staring at him uncertainly and swallowed. He was wearing white boxer shorts and a white t-shirt. His dark hair was windblown again from being up on deck. Short spiky strands fell over his forehead. He smelled like salt spray and ocean.

  His cheeks were ruddy from the night air and the breeze outside, the hollows darkened by a day’s growth of beard. He was looking at her with uncertainty and just a hint of speculation. With her glasses on now, she saw each and every beloved crinkle around his eyes, the grooves that bracketed his luscious masculine lips, the straight line of his nose, even the scar that slashed its way through one dark eyebrow.

  He was so handsome, he took her breath away. She could be angry at him and frustrated waiting on his infrequent visits home, but the irrefutable truth was that he was the one and only man she would ever want and love. Nothing could change that. Everything about him was as dear to her as life itself.

  Some of what was going through her mind must have shown on her face because his expression darkened as he continued to stare at her.

  “Hanna....” His hand rose then fell back to his side. “Do you ever think about the night we made love three years ago?”

  She bit her bottom lip, then quietly asked, “Do you?”

  “All the time.”

  Her green eyes widened with surprise. “But that was so long ago. You haven’t been home since then.”