Captain O'Reilly's Woman - Ashes of Love 1 (14 page)

Samantha was quiet for a moment then she flexed her fingers inside his, firmed her grip on David’s hand. “If I can accept this change in my relationship with my CO, then others will too,” she thought out loud.

David remained silent, letting her work through her emotions. She wished she felt as brave as David. As confident. Maybe she would, in time. But she’d set them on this path and she couldn’t turn from it. Especially when she’d committed him to her...his heart, career and life. Not when, even now, she could be carrying his child.

Samantha exhaled slowly and straightened her shoulders. “All right then,” she breathed, and breathed again so there would be some confidence in her voice. “Carry on, troop, er, sir.”

Laughing in that deep, lusty way of his, David squeezed her hand. He held it to his chest for a moment before releasing it then slowed the Jeep as they approached the guardhouse. His brow came up when he didn’t recognize the private on guard duty.

“New recruit?” Samantha asked. She didn’t recognize the kid either.

“Yes. Fifteen new recruits reported last week.” He glanced at his watch. “Seventeen forty-five. Low man on the totem pole always draws guard duty during evening chow.” David stopped the Jeep just before the swing gate and, from his breast pocket, pulled out his military ID and held it up.

“Captain O’Reilly,” the private squeaked. He looked too skinny for his uniform and his cheeks turned bright red when his voice broke. “Um, welcome back, sir,” he added in a forced, deep voice and opened the gate quickly. He stood back and saluted as David drove past.

From the rear-view mirror, David glimpsed another private—this one he recognized—coming out of the portable head behind the guardhouse. “Well you caught a break, Corporal,” David said lightly. “That kid didn’t ask for your ID. And nobody’s around to see us. You’ve bought yourself a little time to get used to basking in the reflected glory of my status,” he teased.

“Actually, that’s a good thing,” Samantha admitted. “I’ll be able to tell my friends, and my sergeant, privately. Before anyone else knows.” She sighed. “I didn’t think I’d be so nervous.”

He drove through the base and pulled into the grassy driveway beside his quarters. David was quietly pleased when Samantha waited for him to come around to her side and give her a hand down. “We’ll get you settled in. You can bring the rest of your things over the next few days if you like.”

Samantha nodded and, her bag slung over her shoulder, followed David past the few, young trees that dotted the site. Inside his trailer, the air was stale and he opened all the windows, letting in the late-day breeze. She looked around. Except for a thin layer of dust on everything, the interior of David’s double-wide was very tidy, but stark. A small kitchenette sat off to one side of the main living area and a large dining table that likely served double-duty as a conference table sat in the middle. The floor was polished vinyl. Two comfortable sofas upholstered in tan and blue and a modest stereo system took up the other half of the space. Her suitcase in his hand, David led her down the hallway. There were two bedrooms—one converted into office space. The other held a king-sized bed and little else. A gleaming, austere head was the only other room opening off the hallway and off that, a cupboard holding a stacking washer and dryer. Inside the bedroom, he opened the closet and started to move things around, making room for her. He did the same to the lone chest of drawers in the bedroom and Samantha watched him with a growing sense of contentment, again feeling like she belonged here, with this man, and that there was a rightness in being with him.

She went back out to the Jeep and started bringing in the rest of their things. It might not be their mansion on the island but, for now, it was home and Samantha felt she’d be happy wherever David was.

David watched with an expression of sad resignation as she opened her suitcase and laid out her fatigues. “I really hate the end of leave,” he grumbled. “No more short skirts. Bikinis,” he sighed longingly.

“How about I keep this on? Just for you,” Samantha teased, lightly stroking the lacy lingerie she was wearing as she took off her skirt and top. It was soft pink and the bra was cut low, revealing the round tops of her breasts. The thong bottom left most of her ass exposed, which she tipped toward him provocatively. She knew the set was one of his favorites.

“How about I just rip them off you with my teeth, Corporal, and nail you right where you’re standing,” David growled. His eyes were hard and bright as he looked at her body with open lust.

“Hmm...I’d enjoy that, Captain. But for now, I have to go to my barracks and report in. After o-hundred hours, they’ll report me as AWOL. I’m not sure even RI status will let me use the excuse that I was too busy nailing my CO to check in.”

David laughed and kissed her briefly. He pulled out a set of his own fatigues from the closet and laid them on the bed beside hers. “I’ll see about having the mess hall send some chow over. Then I’ll pop over to my office and see if anything needs doing before the morning. I’ll meet you back here in say forty-five minutes?” He stripped off his button-down shirt and pulled on his uniform shirt, biting back the urge to ask her if she’d be okay until he got back. She would be, of course. Samantha was one of the most responsible, competent medics in his unit. He’d just have to cope with his possessive feelings and this unnecessary protectiveness. She looked so small, so damned fragile compared to him. She wasn’t the only one who needed time to adjust their thinking. He kissed her again then fished out the spare set of trailer keys from a drawer in the kitchen, gave them to her and let them out. Although he wanted to kiss her again, although she turned and looked up at him with that sultry, hungry look that told him she wanted to touch him and kiss him and feel his body against hers, she shut it down almost as soon as they were outside, compartmentalizing their lives. Perhaps that was the best thing for them. Being, as Samantha put it, the COs official squeeze might put her co-workers and her superiors in an uncomfortable position. She’d been smart enough to anticipate that. He was proud of her for it. David allowed himself a moment to watch her rolling backside as she headed for her old barracks. Then he turned in the other direction and headed for the mess hall.

*
   
*
   
*

Inside her unit’s barracks, Samantha knocked on her platoon sergeant’s door. “Good evening, Sergeant,” Samantha said brightly as he lifted his eyes from the stack of papers he was reading.

Sergeant Barry’s intelligent brown eyes smiled up at her. “Welcome back, Samantha,” he replied and stood. He came around his desk and sat on the edge of it, looking her over quickly. “You look good.”

Samantha’s sergeant was pushing thirty and one of the nicest men she’d ever met. Other guys could give her the once over and she’d tell them off. But Sergeant Barry was simply glad to see her back and he looked at her like he looked at all his people, regardless of gender, with friendly yet professional interest.

“Tanned. Well rested. Leave agrees with you,” he said. “But we’re glad to have you back. Let me get you a copy of your duty assignments for the week.” He reached into one of the baskets on his desk and picked out a clipboard. He might be professional and easy-going but Samantha also knew he had a core of steel that surfaced when it had to.

“If you’ve got a minute, Sergeant,” Samantha asked, gathering her courage. She lay her hand on his open door and waited for his approval before shutting it.

“Of course,” he said and nodded.

Samantha shut the door. “A little over a month ago, I got new orders. I’m officially RI.”

“RI?” Sergeant Barry repeated with alarm. He scratched his head absently as he gaped down at her, barely disturbing his precisely cut, short brown hair. “You won’t be leaving, I hope?”

“No,” Samantha reassured him quickly. In addition to working in the clinic in town and filling a rotating shift in the base’s infirmary, her primary responsibility was serving as her platoon’s medic. Sergeant Barry had a case of eczema that came out every now and then on his elbows and knees. He just didn’t like anybody but Samantha treating him. “But I expect to be pregnant soon and I might ask for modified duties if I need to.”

“Oh.” He stood up from the corner of his desk, paced around behind it, and blushed. “Um, anybody I know?” he asked quietly. “So I’ll know who to expect a cigar from,” he added in an attempt to ease his obvious unease.

Samantha cleared her throat. “Captain O’Reilly.”

“
O’Rei
...um...
our
Captain O’Reilly?” Sergeant Barry was a tall man, about six feet and lean rather than blatantly muscular. When he wrapped his arms around his chest, obviously digesting what Samantha had said, the gesture sat oddly on him.

But then he was obviously uncomfortable.

“You’re, um, okay with him doing this? There’s no, um, pressure? What with his rank and all?”

“Ah,” Samantha breathed. She now understood her sergeant’s concern. “
Very
okay,” she smiled reassuringly. “I picked him. He didn’t know I was RI until I told him. We’re...good together.”

Her sergeant’s cheeks puffed out then he nodded quietly. “If you’re sure,” he said adamantly. When Samantha nodded, he continued, “Well I appreciate the heads-up, Corporal. Now you know that if anything changes—anything in your relationship with the Captain, I’ll have your back. No matter what.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Samantha replied, smiling.

“All right then.” He walked back to his chair and sat down.

“There’s one change though,” Samantha added, “HQ has given permission for me to move into the Captain’s quarters. So I’ll be moving out of my room here.”

Their platoon’s barracks, like all barracks, was broken up into four areas—a central lounge, the Sergeant’s office with his private quarters off that, a men’s barracks and a women’s barracks, each with their own communal head. But the platoon’s medic had a room of their own. Because of the shift work, they often kept different hours than the others.

“Oh...well, maybe we’ll just leave it empty for awhile. Wouldn’t want anybody to get the idea you weren’t coming back,” he added pointedly.

“Yes, Sergeant,” Samantha replied evenly. She prudently kept her mouth shut after that.

“And, Corporal...congratulations,” her sergeant added quietly. He smiled up at her and his brown eyes gentled. “The Captain’s a good man. He’ll treat you well. Just...promise me one thing.”

Samantha looked at him expectantly.

“Don’t start talking about hemorrhoids or swollen ankles or any of that pregnant girl shit around me,” he whispered hoarsely and turned even redder. “My baby sister’s got two kids and she talks about that every time I go home. How many hours she was in labor and cracked nipples and stuff that’s so revolting it makes a grown man want to bury himself alive in quicksand.”

Samantha cleared her throat. “Yes, Sergeant,” she assured him and managed not to grin too much. “No pregnant girl shit around you. Understood.”

He looked at her pointedly then handed her a copy of her duty schedule. “Dismissed.”

Samantha saluted and turned to leave. She’d barely got her hand on the doorknob when his voice brought her up short.

“If there’s any way you could talk him into letting me have first pick of the next group of recruits, I’d be forever grateful. We picked up two fresh off the bus and they’re both dumb as stumps.”

Samantha turned back to him and gave him an arch look.

“Nah, didn’t think so. But it can’t hurt to ask.” Sergeant Barry grinned crookedly then turned his attention back to the paperwork on his desk.

Chapter Seven

“Hey, JT,” Samantha found her friend, along with a few other members of her platoon, in the lounge when she emerged from the sergeant’s office. He and the others welcomed her back. Their greeting rose in pitch when she opened the sack she was carrying and drew out a large basket of strawberries. She set it on a central table and invited them to help themselves. “I got you a T-shirt, JT. Come on and I’ll show it to you.” With a wave of her hand, she led him back to her room. There, she unlocked the door then quickly opened the window to air the room out before reaching into the sack and pulling out a hand-painted T-shirt and giving it to him.

The T-shirt, like the strawberries, had come from the farmer’s market she and David had visited that past Saturday. The painting on it was abstract, lines and vague patterns in subdued, dark tones. JT collected T-shirts and she’d known he’d like this one as soon as she’d seen it.

“I’ve got some big news, JT, and you’re going to want to sit down.” He looked at her funny but did as she asked. “Remember those orders I got last month? Well, it turns out I’m RI.” She let that sink in for a moment.

“Ah, Sammy that...that sucks.” JT kept his voice low and glanced over at the open door, making sure nobody else was around. “What about medical school?”

“I’ll still get to go,” she reassured him quickly. “Next year.” She waited a minute before springing the next part on him. “And the reason I took three weeks leave was so that I could spend time with the guy I’ve picked to father my children.”

“You mean you...you’ve been off getting your brains screwed out? And you didn’t even tell me so I could enjoy it vicariously?”

“Bite me, JT,” she bitched—more for effect than with any real venom.

“Not me but somebody’s obviously been. Who?” he asked, his blue eyes glowing with titillation.

“Captain O’Reilly.”

JT’s mouth fell open. Then he grinned. “Went for the top stud, eh?” He ducked when she picked up her pillow and threw it at his head. Looking into his eyes, she could see more juvenile comments sitting there. But to JT’s credit, he held them back. “We’re still cool...you and I?” he asked, his voice gentling. “Big changes in your life, Sammy.” JT tipped his head to one side. “We’re still tight?”

“Always,” she replied adamantly. She pulled her duffle bag off the top shelf of her closet. “That’s why I’m telling you. Only you and the Sarge know so far.”

“You moving out?” JT asked, alarmed and maybe even a little hurt as he watched her pack up her spare boots and clean fatigues.