Page 45 of Hot Soldier's Rescue

“Too much talking. Not enough kissing.”

“Ooh,” she growled. “What did I ever see in you?”

“I dunno. Kiss me and find out.”

“One kiss. And then you’ll drop the subject forever.”

“Correct.”

She stepped forward again, this time with a great deal more trepidation. Smart girl. Standing on tiptoe once more, she looped her slender arms over his shoulders and tugged on his head, bringing it down toward her. Their lips met and an artillery barrage exploded inside his head, complete with blinding tracers and screaming explosions of incoming fire.

His arms swept around her and she moaned into his mouth, melting into him and over him until he didn’t know where he ended and she began. She tasted better than any woman had a right to and he drew her higher against his body as she invited him in with her entire being.

Their tongues clashed, quickly finding a rhythm that made his entire body throb with need. She gasped but never broke the contact. Her words might vow to push him away, but her hands urged him closer, pulling on the back of his neck urgently, drawing him down to her. And he had no will to resist. He picked her up completely off the ground, supporting her slight weight with ease. Her arms went fully around his neck then, her head slanting to give him even deeper access to her mouth, which he didn’t hesitate to exploit.

The lust that simmered beneath the surface all the time when he was around her broke loose, rolling over him until he gasped with the power of it. She must have felt it, too, for she surged against him with a cry in the back of her throat that owed nothing to piety and everything to unbridled desire. The urge to protect and possess that he’d fought ever since he met her reared up again. This was his woman, end of discussion. The only question was how long it would take her to admit it.

He backed her up, standing her on a small fallen log to compensate for their height difference and freeing his hands to roam over her delicious body, learning her. Marking her as his. Now, here was something he could do for the rest of his life. The idea galvanized him. Was it possible? Could he actually find someone who’d be willing to put up with him and his emotional baggage? Hope erupted in his chest.

But then Elise distracted him by shivering beneath his touch, so sensitive he reeled with the possibilities of how she’d react if there were no clothes between his palms and her skin. His hands slid under her sweater, but that awful dress of hers gave him no access to anything other than her bare arms. At least the fabric was thin enough for her heat to pass through it and hint at goose bumps puckering her delicate flesh.

She was as responsive as the finest musical instrument to his touch, a veritable symphony of tiny sounds escaping her throat as he stroked her to a fever pitch. The sweet smell of her wreathed them both, and he inhaled it with the same fierce possessiveness that he inhaled all of her. A single word echoed through his besotted brain. Mine.

She grew ever more soft and boneless against him, trembling so much with desire that he had to wrap his arms around her once more to steady her. She finally dragged her mouth away from his and buried her face against his neck, trembling. Her hair smelled like her, and he memorized the soft scent while she panted against him.

“Don’t say it,” she murmured, her mouth moving tantalizingly against his bare skin above his collar.

“Don’t say what?” He was surprised to hear how breathless he was, too.

“I told you so.”

He laughed silently. “Ready to admit you want me?”

He felt her sigh. “Fine. I want you.”

“And you’re not a nun.”

She pursed her lips stubbornly at that one, but the truth was easy to read in her eyes.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured. “I can see it in your eyes, so why don’t you just admit it? I swear I mean you no harm.”

Another sigh, this one longer and more drawn out. “Fine. I’m not a nun.” But then she added in a rush, “You have to promise me you won’t tell anybody. Not a soul. I have to get Mia and Emanuel out of Colombia safely, and being a nun is the best and fastest way to do that. Their safety depends on you keeping the secret.”

“I already figured out that was why you were pretending to be a sister, and I haven’t given you away, yet.”

“Promise me you won’t tell.”

He put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to his gently. “I promise.” He sealed the promise with a kiss. He intended for it to be a chaste thing, no more than an affirmation of his promise, but he should have known better. As soon as their mouths met again, this time without the thin veil of pretense that she wasn’t supposed to enjoy this, an entire battlefield of heat and fury ignited between them.

He tugged at the front of her dress, impatient with the frumpy garment. Fumbling hastily, she undid the buttons in a clumsy effort to save them from his assault. And then his hands were finally on her skin, skimming over her entirely immodest lace bra and tracing the indent of her tiny waist.

His mouth dropped to her bare shoulder. He followed the path of her collarbone to where it ended at her throat. He sipped at the hollow there as she threw her head back to give him full access. And then his mouth tracked lower, dipping into the valley between her breasts. His hands went behind her, lifting her, arching her into his mouth wantonly.

Her hands clutched at his short hair, pressing him closer while she urged him on with pants of pleasure. “Oh, yes. More. Right there. I’ve wanted you so much!”

He knew the feeling. As much as he’d love to carry her down to the forest floor and make love to her right now, she deserved better. She deserved satin sheets and rose petals, soft music and champagne. Reluctantly, he kissed his way back up the soft vulnerability of her neck to her mouth.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” he whispered against her lips.

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