Captain O'Reilly's Woman - Ashes of Love 1 (2 page)

She saluted smartly and waited. To his discredit, he made her hold the salute for just a second longer than necessary. He just couldn’t make himself stop looking at the way her raised arm made her breast swell against her precisely ironed shirt. He cursed himself and made himself look away. “At ease, Corporal,” he greeted her warmly and leaned back from his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Samantha returned his smile and he felt a little piece of himself melt. She sat down like she did everything else—with an effortless grace that made him think of summer picnics, dancing and so many simple pleasures they’d lost in the wake of the Great War.

When he’d heard yesterday that she’d asked to meet with him, his heart had leapt at the chance to spend time with her. Now, in the face of her guileless smile, her warm, cinnamon eyes and that mouth he ached to feel against his own, he didn’t think it was such a good idea. But he’d never let her see that. He’d never burden her with his desire. He was her CO and thirteen years older than her. Hiding his emotions, he kept smiling, leaned his forearms on his desk, clasped his hands lightly and said, “It’s good to see you again, Corporal. How can I help you?”

By way of answer, she drew a pale-blue envelope out of her breast pocket. He watched its progress with an envy that stabbed him in the gut. Once again he disciplined his features when she laid the envelope on the edge of his desk and looked up at him. He felt his head tip to one side. She wasn’t being transferred or promoted. As squadron CO, he okayed those moves. She wouldn’t be accepted into medical school for another twelve months.

Samantha drew in a breath then, slowly, let it out. She schooled her emotions. As she did, she looked at Captain O’Reilly. He was tall, almost a foot taller than her and one of the most muscular men she’d ever seen. She’d always liked that about him. He was a good leader and smart and he just felt like a rock to her. Especially her first few months in the Corps. A scared kid, a thousand kilometers from home, wanting desperately to please and be accepted, he’d taught her those were secondary concerns and not to worry about them. They’d come in their own time. He’d taught her to focus on the safety and welfare of her platoon and the population at large. To learn. To be a human sponge and to work hard. She had and his teachings had made all the difference.

The Captain wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense. But the muscles in his jaw were pronounced, giving his face a sculpted, rugged look. His nose was nice and, beneath his short, dark brown hair and straight brows, he had the most arresting, sky blue eyes she’d ever seen. They were framed perfectly by fringes of luxuriant, dark lashes that any woman would kill for. His mouth was firm but full with square corners that expressed more emotion with the single flick of a muscle than most people could in a hundred lines of poetry.

She looked down at his hands for a moment. Compared to hers, they were massive. Powerful. Sculpted. Like the rest of him. His long fingers showed obvious signs of rough use. Unlike her, he’d grown up during the Great War. He’d survived. Not only that, he’d thrived. He was the smartest, most discerning person she knew, and the only person she’d thought of when she needed someone to talk to about her new orders.

Samantha looked him directly in the eye and her voice was even and quiet. “I’ve been given new orders. RI.”

Repopulation Imperative. David sat back hard in his chair. In the years following the Great War, young, child-bearing women were few and far between. Fallout had seen to that. But humans were resilient and the population was starting to come back. Except that some geneticists had found that certain genes had become scarce. Mostly ones carried through the maternal line. Governments the world over had adopted Repopulation Imperative initiatives. Carriers of key genes were identified and, when they turned nineteen, were asked to have kids. Some were asked more firmly than others and a few Eastern European governments had been overthrown because they’d orchestrated forced breeding programs. Here, in New North America, it was always the woman’s choice to have children.

Except for those in the military. When you signed on, you agreed to work in hazardous conditions. To give up your life for the greater good of your country. In short, your ass was theirs. And in her case, Samantha’s womb was theirs as well.

David admired the fact that Samantha didn’t flinch when he stared at her, his mind whirling. RI orders meant that, over the next ten years, she would be required to give birth to four children. Hopefully live ones. It would play hell with her medical training. Then a sudden thought brought all the others in his head to a screeching halt.

“Why did you come to me?” he asked quietly. RI was a simple gig, really. Just go out and get yourself knocked up. The Army would grant you a leave of absence or modified duties, your choice. Or you could request a sample from an anonymous donor through a medical facility and knock yourself up with a turkey baster. David really hated the direction his thoughts had just taken. He quelled his growing excitement as he waited to find out just
why
she had come to him.

Samantha smiled thinly and, for the first time, looked away. “Permission to pace the floor, sir,” she said but there was an unmistakable trace of humor in her voice. Not happy humor, but humor nonetheless.

David nodded quietly. “Of course, Corporal. Under the circumstances, it’s the least you deserve.” He grinned when her smile widened and he let her take the conversation in the direction she chose. He watched her walk slowly past the front of his desk. Her arms folded beneath her full breasts. Her eyes on the floor in front of her.

It was a long moment before she spoke. “They probably identified me as an RI candidate when I joined up. Blood tests and screening,” she added, perhaps more for her benefit than his. “I turned nineteen two weeks ago.”

David nodded but didn’t open his mouth. He knew when her birthday was. He’d almost bought her a card but had forced himself to step away from the display rack and walk out of the canteen before he did.

“The problem is, sir, that I don’t know...” Her voice dried up and his heart ached for her when she glanced up at him shyly before resuming her pacing. Then she stopped, squared her shoulders and turned toward him. “The problem is in two parts, sir,” she said evenly, rallying her focus with obvious effort. “One, I’ve never been with a man. Two, how do I choose who to father this child I’m supposed to conceive?”

David blinked. Hard. It took him a moment to find his voice. “You received RI orders and you’re a virgin,” he stated quietly. He had to shift in his chair so his cock, which had suddenly sprung to attention, wouldn’t snap in half.

“In a nutshell, yes,” Samantha said.

Oh he really wished she hadn’t used the word nut. Now another part of him was aching. David forced himself to get a grip—on his thoughts and his inappropriate reaction to her.

She sat down again and, with the tip of a single, slender finger, turned the slip of blue paper in a slow, hypnotic circle on the surface of his desk. “I need someone to talk this through with. I can’t ask my friends—they’re all too young. I can’t ask the other two women in my platoon. They’re both dykes and whenever the conversation turns to anything remotely related to sex, they offer to jump me. And I’m so not going there.”

David tried to hide his grin and was only partially successful. When Samantha looked back up at him, she caught his look and the corner of her full, delectable mouth turned up. She shrugged lightly. “You were there for me, sir. My first months in the Corps. I’m not trying to brownnose but you’re the best teacher I ever had. And I need...advice. Someone with some life experience behind them to talk this through with. Maybe just to listen to
me
talk it through. I don’t know,” she added quietly and stopped playing with her orders. She sat back in his guest chair, visibly calming herself and crossing one lean thigh over the other.

Despite her fatigues, she was still sexy as hell.

He exhaled slowly...mostly to buy himself time to make sure his voice didn’t break when he spoke. As it was, it came out deeper than usual. “All right,” he agreed quietly. “Tomorrow afternoon? After you finish your rotation in the clinic in town.”

Jeez would she notice how improbable it was that the squadron commander knew what a second-year Corporal’s work schedule was?

“Take one of the medic Jeeps and we’ll meet at the deserted sheep farm just off Route Eighteen. I’m assuming here, Corporal, that you’d like to speak in private. Where you won’t have to keep one eye on the clock and the other on the door?”

Samantha blushed and it was perhaps the loveliest thing he’d ever seen.

“Yes,” she admitted readily, stood, picked up her orders and replaced them neatly inside her breast pocket. She saluted him, turned on her heel and left when he dismissed her.

David watched her twitching ass as she walked away, completely unable to stop himself from looking. Not sure he even wanted to.

*
   
*
   
*

The next day, just after twelve fifteen, David looked up from the broken-down fence he was perched on. He turned his head toward the sound of gravel crunching beneath slow-moving rubber. The long brim of his standard-issue cap shaded his eyes from the sun and he recognized the unmistakable silhouette of a medic’s Hummer coming round the boarded-up farm house. It stopped beside his olive-drab Jeep. The door opened.

He had to resist the urge to jump off the fence and take Samantha’s hand and help her down from the over-height vehicle. She didn’t need his help and might interpret it as him saying she wasn’t capable. That and the fact that once he had her hand in his, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep the other one off the rest of her.

Summoning his discipline, he watched her walk toward him.

“Nice spot,” she said with forced brightness. “Good choice.”

He smiled down at her deliberately. “I’m glad you approve,
Corporal
.” He busted her chops mostly to make her blush and was glad he had. The tightness around her mouth eased instantly and she shook her head.

They were standing in what had been the farm’s back courtyard—the broad laneway between house and barn. The former screened them and their vehicles from the road. The latter sheltered them from the wind that had started to pick up. He watched Samantha lift her beautiful face to the sun and smile. Then she looked back down and glanced at the box on the ground by his feet.

“Lunch,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “Figured this conversation might go down a little easier with some of cook’s chow.” He leapt down off the fence. Letting gravity take his weight he landed lightly on his feet then picked up the box and the neatly folded blanket beside it and walked past the barn. Adjusting his pace to Samantha’s, she walked beside him without question.

“Here good?” he asked a few minutes later. The ground had risen a bit, giving them a view of the deserted farm and fields. The forest was encroaching on what had once been tilled farmland. Now it was a jumble of native plants with a few residual stands of wheat.

“Yes,” Samantha replied with a calmness that surprised her. She watched her CO spread out the blanket and kneel down on one side of it. The sure movements of his body revealed the heavy muscles in his thighs, the breadth of his shoulders. He opened the box and, as she knelt on the other side, watched him lift out cold roast chicken, a tub of green salad, a smaller tub of pickles. Some rolls, butter and mayo. A big wedge of cheese. A thermos and some packs of fruit juice. Plates and such and two slender bars of chocolate.

She felt her shoulders go down and the corners of her mouth go up. “Guess it pays to be the CO,” she teased. Her smile widened when Captain O’Reilly tipped his head up to her and she caught a glimpse of his beautiful, laughing eyes.

They both looked away at the same time. Samantha wondered what the hell she was thinking, acting so familiar around her squadron commander.

David wondered what the hell he was
doing
, flirting with a woman under his command. Inviting her for a picnic lunch like they were on a date. But she’d asked for his help. David cleared his throat and turned back to her. “This doesn’t have to be awkward,” he said, keeping his voice as calm and reassuring as he could. “We’re just having lunch—just with a better view than the walls of the mess hall. You talk when you’re ready. I’ll listen. Deal?”

She turned back to him and his breath caught. Her wide, cinnamon eyes shone with a trust and growing calmness that made him want to reach for her and hold her and whisper stupid things about making sure everything would be okay. He forced his expression to remain unchanged.

“Deal,” she said quietly and accepted the plate he prepared for her. She sat up straight, her legs tucked beneath her, and ate with a precision and grace that echoed everything else she did.

David stretched his long legs out and lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, his plate on the blanket in front of him. They ate in silence, stealing glances at each other but mostly just looking around, enjoying the peace, the isolation, letting it calm and order their thoughts.

When she was finished and refused the extra helping he offered, David packed up the lunch box, poured tea from the thermos into two cups and handed her one of the chocolate bars. He knew it was one of her favorite foods.

He watched her roll the bar between her fingers then set it aside. She took a sip of the tea, then another, then slid her legs out from beneath her and stretched them out. Leaning back slightly, she braced her arms behind her and again lifted her face to the sun.

David just watched her happily. Enjoyed the peaceful vibe that came off her, the quiet intimacy of the time they’d stolen together. But mostly enjoying—for the first time—the opportunity to simply look at her and not worry if anybody saw. If she saw.

Since the Great War, so many things had changed, especially how men and women hooked up. Age didn’t matter anymore. In fact, it was very common for one partner to be older than the other, regardless of gender. Experience and youth had a way of getting together to sustain society. Wealth or social standing didn’t matter simply because they were things that, for the most part, no longer had any meaning. But the military still required order and discipline to function. Part of that and a part that David had always obeyed faithfully, was that there was no fraternization between ranks.