The Last Marine (13 page)

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Griffin—”

“When he gave the order to fire, I shot him.”

She stared back. That hadn’t been what she’d expected to hear. She didn’t understand why he was so upset. He did what he needed to do to save the innocent.

“All hell broke loose. My unit opened fire on his unit right there in the fucking schoolroom.” His gaze bored into hers. “I killed my own men, Angel. Men I’d known and fought alongside for years. I killed them all right in front of those kids. And that night, I knew someone would be coming for me. I knew word had gotten out. But when I left to search the ’Net for information that night, I had no idea they’d frag the entire base.”

Goddess help him. He was carrying so much guilt and most of it didn’t even seem to be his. “That wasn’t your fault. You have to know that. The bomb runs didn’t have anything to do with you. They were losing control. Alfred sent the order to disband the bases. I suspect Randolph twisted the order to destroy the bases.” Somehow, she’d never understood how, the Parnells’ had managed to keep the bombings from the media. Very few knew. Military families had been exiled long before the order had gone out.

“Why didn’t you do anything?” He got to his feet. “I mean I’m trying to understand, but you had access. You could’ve leaked information. You could’ve done something.”

“You think I didn’t try?” She got to her feet, refusing to let him tower over her. “Why don’t you tell me, Griffin, what lengths would the Parnells go to, to protect their dream?”

“Any and all.” He looked away.

“Yes. The only time they didn’t have me under surveillance was in my room and even then, I’m not so sure I had any privacy. I tried to sneak out documents. I tried to transmit documents. I tried anonymously tipping off the media. The information never got where I intended it to go and I always got caught. You know what Randolph does to anyone who goes against the Parnells. He was fanatical in his loyalty to Alfred.”

“All right.” He reached out to take her hand in his.

She snatched her hand away. “I watched guards die. Servants, too. Anyone who tried to help me became a target. I got to where I wouldn’t talk to anyone in private and kept to the most mundane of conversations in public. Yes, I may have smiled in those pictures you’re always throwing in my face, but I smiled because I knew someone would get hurt if I didn’t. Maybe me. Maybe whoever drove the limo that day. Maybe the cook who served us dinner. I had no way of knowing. So I smiled.”

“Enough.”

“No.” She frowned. Who was he to say when she’d said enough? “I’ll decide when it’s enough. You wanted me to understand, well, you’re going to, too.”

He walked right up into her personal space, crowding her back. “I get it. You don’t have to keep on.”

His scowl was fierce, his body shifting from side to side in agitation. And for the first time, she wasn’t scared of him. She’d always thought he wanted to intimidate her when he did this. But no, he was seeking attention like an over-sized, ill-mannered puppy. Offering himself to make up after their argument—scowling at the possibility of rejection, but putting himself within her reach if she wanted him. The epiphany floored her. Determined to test her theory, she placed her hand over his heart. He stilled and though he made no sound, something vibrated through his chest, reminding her of a cat’s purr. She allowed herself a small smile. This big, belligerent soldier liked to be petted.

“Ask me, Angel.”

She had no doubt what he wanted her to ask. His stormy eyes filled with heat and his voice dropped low. And she wanted from him. She wanted his kisses, his lips on her skin, his muscular body snug against hers. She just didn’t want the rest—the pain, the crushing disappointment. She shook her head. “I can’t.”

Chapter 16

She may have said no, but her body swayed toward his when she did.

He wet his lips. “Then play a game with me.”

A rueful smile spread on her lips. “I already know that particular trick, Warrior.”

“Different bet this time.”

She bit her lip in indecision and before she could say no again, he rushed to get the new bet said. “If you win, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of our time together.” He was making a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep, but he had a better-than-average chance of winning. The cards were marked. “If I win, you get fifteen minutes of kissing me anywhere you want.”

She released a breathy little sigh that tore straight to his groin. Her body leaned toward his. Then she seemed to come to her senses and straightened. “Oh? And if you win, how do I know you’ll let it go at that?”

He grinned. “I know you still have those handcuffs. I could hear them clanking around in your pack.”

A furious blush stole over her cheeks. “You’re being silly. I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

He stepped closer. “Angel, you could get me off just looking at me.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip so hard he was sure she’d have a sore spot come later. “And if I win, you won’t do this anymore?”

He lifted his hand and drew a cross over the back of her hand, which still rested over his heart.

“This is the last time?”

“Last time.” She was bending. She might not like the idea of taking a screwed-up soldier for a lover, but she wanted him.

“Get your cards out. Let’s get this over with.”

He shook his head. “First, I need to know you can shoot.”

Startled, her wide eyes locked with his. “What do you mean?”

“If I’m handcuffed and someone comes around, you’re gonna need to defend us.”

Her brows drew together in a frown. “And you’d trust me to do so?”

“Yeah.” A bright smile spread across her face, making him feel like a goddamned hero and he wasn’t even sure why. Was she pleased because he thought her capable, or pleased at the prospect of getting hold of his gun?

She pulled away and wiped her palms over her thighs. “Show me.”

Griffin pulled his weapon out and held it up. “This here is a Lockheed Martin. I love the maker; we carried their weapons in the field, but this thing’s damn near an antique.” He flipped the gun on its side in his palm and pointed to a tiny button near the grip. “You see this here? This is the safety and it needs to be pressed all the way in if you want to fire. Are you a lefty or a righty?”

“I’m right-handed.”

“Good.” He pulled her in front of him and placed the gun in her hand. “Now, when you’re pointing at something, if you decide you need to shoot, the safety is right here.” He placed her thumb over the button. “You can keep your finger on the trigger, and thumb the safety up all at once. Go on, try it.”

She depressed the button with her thumb.

“Good. Now, these babies have a bit of a recoil, so use both hands. My mom used to wrap her left hand over her right wrist to help brace her arms.”

She mimicked the position.

He grunted. “Almost. Keep your right elbow locked and your left elbow bent, that way you keep a straight shot. There you go. Now, fire into the water.”

Prudence lowered the gun and stared at him over her shoulder.

“There’s nothing living in there. Go on. I want you to feel the recoil.”

He stood behind her, helping her line up the shot. “Keep both eyes open and keep the sight on what you’re shooting at.” He used his body to give her something to brace against.

A laugh shook her frame. “Goddess save me, I’m nervous.”

“That’s good. Always have a healthy respect for firearms, but breathe.” He lowered his face closer to her ear. “Relax.”

She held her position while she worked at steadying her breathing. Her thumb slid across the safety, and her finger tightened on the trigger. She fired. Her whole body jolted back into his, but she kept her arms straight.

He nuzzled the hair back from her ear. “Real good, Angel. Now, next time, what’ll you do different?”

She turned her face to his. “Brace my feet apart, one a little behind me so I can lean into the recoil.”

Christ, her lips were a hair’s breadth from his. Her shaky exhalations caressed his face. He wet his lips. “You’re a quick study.”

She blushed at his praise, her lips parted.

His body screamed at him to kiss her.

No. Keep her trust, buddy. You’ll get your chance tonight.

He moved away, trying his damnedest to focus on all the business they needed to take care of before they played. “Go on. Go take your bath. I’ll prep dinner.” They didn’t have much. A bit of leftover meat from last night and a couple of those stringy root veggies.

“But, I thought . . . .”

His gaze lit on her face and from the fierce red staining her cheeks and the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes, he realized she thought he’d given up. He strode back to her, crowding into her space and lowered his face. “Dinner first. Dessert later.”

He kept his mouth bare inches from hers, hoping she’d take the bait, lean in and kiss him. Her breath came fast, and a tremor wracked through her.

“You’re very confident you’ll win.”

“Go on. Might as well wash your clothes while you’re at it. Looks like we’ll be moving into cooler territory soon. You can wear my shirt while your things dry.”

She swayed toward him, but seemed to come to her senses at the last possible second. She gave him a nod and moved off toward the pond.

Griffin let out an unsteady breath. Christ, that woman had him twisted six different ways to Sunday.
Patience, buddy. She’ll be worth the wait.
Of that he had no doubt. His concern wasn’t whether they’d be good together, he was fast getting worried they’d be so good together he’d embarrass himself.

The rest of the evening was wrought with tension and by the time he left her behind to take his turn in the cool water, he feared he’d allowed her too much time to think. She was jumpy as a dormouse in a wobbly room full of bowling balls. He washed himself and his clothes quickly and threw a blanket around his hips. Christ, he couldn’t be more obvious, but he didn’t want to give her any excuses not to explore him as she wanted.

Tonight would tell him everything he needed to know. Either she’d be as curious of him as he was of her, or she’d walk away. The whole prospect of what may or may not happen had him on edge. He was putting himself at her mercy, and while part of him was calling himself ten types of fool, another part kept saying this was how it had to be with her.

The sun hung low on the horizon when he walked back into camp and tossed his clothes over a bush to dry. They had enough light to get through one hand of cards.

Prudence sat near their packs, cards unboxed and lying in front of her. The sight caused him to pause. Had she taken a good look at those damned cards?

“I’m no good at shuffling, so I left that for you.”

She shook like a leaf in the crisp November breeze, but her expression held no sign of anger. Griffin sat, tamping down the twinge of guilt for cheating her, and shuffled the deck.
You’re not making her play.
No, he wasn’t. He didn’t browbeat or threaten her. She chose to play because she wanted an excuse to touch him without having to admit she was attracted to him. That made him feel better about deceiving her. He tossed out five cards for each of them, and lifted his hand.

He had two pair—tens and kings. He surveyed the back of her cards.
Shit.
His heart set to galloping in his chest. He was going to lose. The blasted woman had a full house—three kings and two jacks all lined up like perfect little soldiers. He almost tossed down his cards in defeat, but then she’d know what he’d done. “How many cards?”
None, idiot. She’s got a perfect fucking hand.

Her eyes snapped up at his surly tone and her head cocked to the side. “Are you all right?”

“Mm.”

Her chin lifted, her gaze remaining steady on his. “I’ll take three.”

For a heartbeat or two, he stared. “What?”

“Three.” She held up the center three cards in her hand, and set them in the discard pile face down. “I want three cards.”

Christ.
His hand shook when he pulled the top three cards from the deck and tossed them in front of her. He couldn’t look to see what she had. She tried to throw the goddamned game and with his luck she’d still beat him.

“Dealer takes one.” He dropped his odd card down and drew a six, leaving him no better and no worse than he’d been. Heart pounding in his ears, he wondered at his reaction. Yeah, he wanted her, but that didn’t explain the anxiety crawling under his skin. Wanting sex didn’t equate to the crushing disappointment he’d felt a moment ago when he’d thought he’d lost, nor the elation of watching her try to throw the game. Why the hell had this become so important to him? Whatever was going on with him was a hell of a lot more than wanting.

“What do you got, Angel?”

She lay down a flat hand. She’d traded everything for nothing.

For him.

He laid down his two pair, unsure if he felt ashamed or grateful or awed that she’d pretty much cheated, too.

For him.

Gathering up the cards and stuffing them into their box, he held his breath waiting to see what she would do. Maybe she knew what he’d done.
Had she set all this up just to call him out for cheating?
She’d worn his shirt again. The damned thing came down to her knees so he couldn’t see if she wore anything else when she leaned over to grab her pack. Suddenly, he was nervous.

The sun had dropped below the horizon, giving him the benefit of twilight’s shadows, but he discovered he was worried. He’d planned things this way so she’d have the benefit of darkness to hide in, hoping she’d be less shy. But he found he needed it, too. For the first time in his life, he was worried he wouldn’t please a woman. That was an unsettling thought. One he didn’t like one bit.

Keys gripped in one hand, shackles in the other, she bit her lip in indecision.

When he was in prison he vowed he’d never let anyone put cuffs on him again. Yet here he was about to allow the widow of his enemy tie him up. He wet his lips. “Now, don’t you lose that key.”

Her whole face lit up with her smile. “I didn’t think you weren’t scared of anything.”

Oh, he was scared.

She knee-walked over to him. “Lean forward.”

Putting his hands behind his back, he waited for her to cuff him and when that second click resonated in his ears his heart jumped in his chest. Good God, he’d lost his mind. He cleared the thickness from his throat and leaned back against the tree. “I’m all yours for the next fifteen minutes.” But when he met her gaze, he wished he’d kept his damned mouth shut.

Her whole body shook, her eyes were wide, dilated. “Close your eyes.”

Now he started shaking, too. Eyes closed, hands cuffed behind his back, she could kill him as easy as kiss him.

She shifted, kneeling over his lap, her inner thighs enclosing his and his cock jumped to life, straining up toward her heat. He expected her to snuggle down into his lap and kiss him, but she leaned forward, instead. Her shirt-front brushed his face as she held his head to her, hands in his hair, cheek rubbing the top of his head. A shudder ran through her and infected him. This might be the most tenderness he’d experienced since he’d been a kid. He told himself he didn’t need or want any such thing, but then why did he rub his cheek against her, seeking more. Her clean scent filled each breath and when her hands cupped his face and her lips pressed to the top of his head, tears pricked behind his eyes.

Good God, what was it about this woman? Why did she affect him so profoundly?

She trailed her mouth down his forehead, over his cheek until her lips were close enough for him to capture with his. He thrust his tongue toward hers, desperate for her taste, frantic to get inside her any way she’d allow. Leaning forward, he chased her flavor as far as he could.

Prudence sat back, breathing hard, studying him in the twilight.

Damn it, he shouldn’t have rushed.

She pushed him back with one hand. “This is my fifteen minutes.”

“Thirteen.” His breath shuddered out of him.

The lavender of her eyes seemed lit from within as she followed the path of her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. Butterfly soft, she brushed her fingers over his nipples, driving him insane. His cock, already hard and aching, jumped against the confines of the towel.

Her gaze dropped and she bit her lip.

Please, dear God, let her take me in hand.

She leaned in, mouth to the pulse at his throat and rotated her hips against him.

Shivers darted out from his groin. He moaned.

Pulling her hands away, she set her fingers to the buttons on the shirt she wore. The whole time, her hips flexed, squeezing his cock between their bodies, riding the bulge of his erection. She pulled the edges of the shirt wide, leaning in to kiss him, letting her hardened nipples stab into his chest. Thrusting her tongue into his mouth, she moaned. She grasped his neck, his shoulder, gasping in breathy little sighs.