Page 13 of Taken By the Soldier
Until death do us part.
“Goodnight, Judith. Sweet dreams.” I place a gentle kiss to the bruise on her forehead.
She whispers something unintelligible and snuggles up against my body. So warm. So sweet. So receptive to my attentions. When she’s tired, anyway. She curls an arm around my waist and sighs with contentment, and I find myself placing more soft kisses to her forehead as I try to ignore the raging hardness in my pants.
Chapter7
LUKA
I awakethe next morning with a sense of purpose. I crawl out of bed, check my wrist comm for important messages, and venture downstairs to start breakfast.
A glance outside reveals the promise of a beautiful day. Several boats speed by on the lake, probably my men on their way home from early morning fishing trips. A breeze has the trees swaying, ruffling the tassels and leaves on the corn stalks in the surrounding gardens.
Scrambled eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes are on the menu. Though not much of a cook, I can manage simple breakfast food. Most of the cooking duties will soon fall to Judith. My days will be spent with my men, fortifying the borders surrounding the settlement, hunting, long-term planning, and fulfilling any other tasks that require my attention as the leader of this settlement.
No matter what Judith did in her previous life, her duties in this life will be appropriate to her role as a wife: cooking, cleaning, laundry, gardening, and maybe one day, raising children.
A simple existence suits me just fine.
Before the war, life had been near perfect. I’d worked in construction with my uncle before joining the armed forces in my early twenties. Most Zasforran men put in a decade or more in the military. Though I’d enjoyed my time serving my country, I’d been ready to retire and return to civilian life with my new wife just before the war broke out.
The blasted war changed everything. Some days I fear my heart has hardened beyond repair. Other times, like last night, I feel hope for a change within my soul, a softening and an acceptance of events I could not change.
Judith. Perhaps she is the answer to my unspoken prayers.
Will she ever see me as more than her captor?
Accept me as her husband?
I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter. Even if she despises me forever, I cannot let her go. We’ve exchanged vows. We’ve promised ourselves to one another, and even though I was ordered to take a wife, I’d meant every word of those vows.
She will belong to me for all time.
For better or worse.
* * *
JUDITH
I awaketo the sound of birds chirping and the smell of cooking food. My stomach growls, and I stretch under the soft sheets, trying to focus through the fog that blankets my mind.
Maybe it’s Saturday, and my mother is cooking her famous egg casserole.
Stretching my arms out, a sigh of contentment escapes me, but the mental fog soon disperses, and my sigh turns to a gasp.
I spring up in bed as awareness floods me with the dreadful truth.
No. This isn’t my parents’ house. Nor is this my apartment in Baltimore.
I glance down and realize Luka must have undressed me. Images of the previous night flash in my mind. I vaguely remember him feeding me tea and buttered toast. Even after he’d told me the tea contained a mild sedative, I consumed the entire cup, too exhausted to argue at the time. He’d also carried me upstairs, removed my clothing, cleaned my wounds, and applied fresh bandages. Lastly, he’d pulled one of his own shirts over my head and tucked me into bed.
My face heats. I also remember him holding me close and kissing my forehead, and the feel of his warm breath and his thick beard tickling my skin. And I’d been content to snuggle against him at the time.
I start to storm downstairs, then think better of it in my current state of dress. With a growl, I gather up the outfit Cynthia gave me last night and hurry to the bathroom. I take a quick shower, brush my teeth, and get dressed.
If I’m going to face Luka and give him a piece of my mind… well, it’s better to be fully clothed when you tell someone off. I look around for my sneakers but can’t find them. Hm. Maybe they’re in the living room. I need to locate them soon if I’m going to run away.
Finally, I venture downstairs. But what I find in the kitchen takes my breath away. Luka is standing at the stove, cooking bacon, eggs, and fried potatoes… all while wearing nothing but a snug pair of dark blue boxer briefs. My mouth waters, and I’m not sure if it’s from the wonderful smell of the food or the sight of Luka’s muscles flexing as he flips the bacon.
