Waiting... On You (Force Recon Marines) (22 page)

When they finally got up to go inside
to the living room, Nick steered Hanna to the sofa to sit next to him. Utterly
relaxed, she kicked off her sandals and tucked her legs beneath her. Curled
under the arm he draped over her shoulders, they exchanged conversation with
Trisha and Kurt and indulged in more wine. Nick’s fingertips strayed to her
nape, under her softly curled blonde hair, to absently stroke the back of her
neck. From there, his hand found its way to the curve of her upper arm. She was
wearing a strapless bra, so when he slipped his fingers under the strap of her
dress, he encountered nothing but bare skin.

She could feel the momentary surprise
in his touch and the inclination to explore more deliberately, but gentleman
that he was, he refrained, settling for simply nudging her closer to his side
until she was practically sitting on his lap, which was exactly where she’d wanted
to be all evening.

By ten o’clock, all the snuggling and
the wine were making her feel lightheaded and sleepy. Nick saw her eyelids
drooping.

“Looks like it’s time to go,” he announced
with a chuckle. “Maybe we should walk back to the boat to sober you up,
Doctor.”

She smiled lazily up at him, then
pulled her legs out from under her to slip into her red sandals. “Probably, but
not in these high heels. My balance has deteriorated, I’m afraid.”

“It’s a gorgeous night for a walk in
the moonlight,” Trisha said, watching the two of them. “If you’d like to walk
home, I’ll lend you a pair of my flip-flops, Hanna. I think our feet are about
the same size.”

“It’s eight blocks to the marina!”
Kurt pointed out as if they were all nuts. “And I didn’t see a moon. It’s
pretty dark out there.”

“But it’s a safe neighborhood and a
short eight blocks,” Trisha corrected, sending her husband a look that said ‘
hush
.’

Hanna decided she liked the idea of
walking. She was a little drunk, and walking through the park with Nick sounded
very romantic. “That would be great, Trisha. I’ll make sure you get your shoes back
before we leave tomorrow.”

Once Nick and Hanna departed, Kurt
looked at his wife, perplexed. “What was that all about? I could have driven
them back to their boat.”

“Romance,” his wife answered, leaning
back against the closed door. “Didn’t you see how badly those two need to get
together?”

“Nick says they’re friends— have been
since they were kids, although....” Kurt speculated with a frown, then a half
grin. “He did seem a bit infatuated with the Doctor.”

“Oh, he’s definitely infatuated,” his
wife stated with conviction. “I’ll bet they won’t be just friends much longer.”

THE NIGHT WAS UTTERLY SEDUCTIVE. Muted
by the glow of the city lights, the stars were tiny twinkling points, distant,
but enchanting, nevertheless. There was just a sliver of new moon, not enough
to illuminate much. That was left to the lights in the harbor and the post
lamps in the waterfront park they strolled through. The sounds of traffic could
be heard in the distance, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sounds of
water lapping against the shoreline and the tinkling bells on the marker buoys
in the bay. It all blended to create a seductive symphony.

Nick was as silent as Hanna as he walked
beside her down the park sidewalk. He had taken off his jacket and put it over
her shoulders. She wasn’t the least bit chilled, but she loved being wrapped in
his fragrance. His coat held the scent of his body, mixed with his exotic
cologne. His arm was draped around her shoulders, and her arm was hooked around
his waist.

Being anchored to his side, under the
stars and the moon, was sheer heaven for Hanna. They’d never had a real date,
not like this. He might leave her in a week or two. She might not see him for
another two or three years, but tonight he was here, beside her, and she was
going to make the most of it.

She’d already made up her mind that if
he wanted to sleep with her tonight, she’d let him. She wanted him to. She just
didn’t know how to let him know, inexperienced as she was.

At the marina, they headed toward the
end of the pier and the Emerald Mermaid. An uneven board caught the open toe of
Hanna’s flip flop, causing her to trip and nearly fall.

Nick caught her elbow and steadied
her. “You can’t hold your wine too well, Doctor.”

“No. Apparently not,” she giggled. “I
don’t drink much.”

“No kidding.”

To Hanna’s surprise, there was a touch
of disgruntlement in his voice.

At the boat, he helped her step over
the side. A gust of wind blew her skirt up above her knees in the process. She
thought she saw him give her legs a scowl.

At the door to the cabin below deck,
Hanna had to dig into her tiny purse to find the key. When she finally
recovered it, she looked up to find Nick staring at her, a pensive frown
wrinkling his brow. His silver-gray eyes were narrowed, picking up the lights
from the harbor like tiny pinpoints. Hanna stood before him, hesitantly and
expectantly, not sure what to think about his sudden shift in mood and a little
too intoxicated to figure it out.

She adjusted her glasses and tilted
her head to see him better. “Nick? Is something wrong?”

His large hands traveled slowly up her
bare arms, then down again. She shivered. One hand caught her wrist and the
other curled around the back of her neck. His fingertips brushed the fine hairs
at the nape, while his thumb traced the upraised angle of her jaw, from chin to
earlobe.

He fingered the jade earring in one
ear, and then traced the delicate gold chain to the heart-shaped pendant resting
below the hollow of her throat. She knew her pulse was hammering wildly there.
She could feel its quickened tempo.

“Hanna….”

His voice was husky, raspy, and yet he
made her name sound like the sweetest music. With her head tilted back, she
closed her eyes and swayed dizzily toward him, anticipating the melting touch
of his lips. Hers parted eagerly.

But the only touch her lips received
was the light brush of his fingertips— a soft butterfly stroke that traced
their shape. Her eyes flew open. She knew she couldn’t hide the disappointment
in them.

“Aw, Hanna.... Another time, when
you’re... sober.”

She saw his reluctance to kiss her as
a rejection, and damn, it hurt! He thought she was too drunk to even kiss, let
alone make love to? She was too humiliated to even look at him. With a muttered
“
fine
”, she whirled around to unlock the door to the cabin. After
yanking it open, she took a deep breath to control her momentary dizziness,
then carefully descended the stairs, into the darkness below.

“Give me a few minutes, then the head
is all yours,” she called out from the last step.

Nick spun away from the open cabin
door and ran his fingers through his hair, knowing he had blown it, that he had
hurt and embarrassed her. Furious with himself, he walked across the deck to
brace his hands on the boat’s railing and look out over the bay beyond.

All night, he’d wanted her, ached for
her. Each breath he’d taken had filled his nostrils with her sweet scent,
causing him to envision how she might have splashed perfume all over herself.
Every time she had crossed and uncrossed those fantastic legs of hers, his eyes
had been drawn to their sinewy length. And every time he had touched her, and heaven
help him, he’d been compelled to touch her constantly all evening, he’d felt
her warm, satin-soft skin beneath his rough fingertips. It had been torture,
pure torture, and now he wasn’t going to be able to relieve any of it because,
damn it all, she was half-shot!

He wasn’t going to make love to her
while she was intoxicated. He liked to think of himself as a gentleman. He was
definitely her friend. He sure as hell didn’t want to be accused of taking
unfair advantage of her again! His brother’s anger at him for being half drunk
when he had made love to her the first time hadn’t set well with him. He wanted
both of them to be clearheaded the next time they made love. No excuses as to
why it happened. But, shit, none of his rationalization relieved how rotten he
felt at the moment!

DOWNSTAIRS, HANNA UNDRESSED and got
ready for bed as quickly as she could. She left all the lights out except for
the one in the bathroom. In its dim light, she assembled Nick’s bed from the
booth-like eating area, next to the galley. The table dropped down between the
seats to form a double bed and the cushions unfolded to make a mattress. She’d
never slept in the converted bed, herself. It looked rather hard and
uncomfortable. It certainly wouldn’t be as soft as her bed below the foredeck.
But it didn’t appear they were going to be sharing that tonight.

From a cupboard above the makeshift
bed, she pulled down two pillows, a sheet and a blanket. For a few moments, she
just hugged them fiercely against her chest, while tears welled in her eyes,
then slid slowly down her cheeks to a pillow. Then, with a curse, she threw
everything onto the bed. Let him make his own bed, she decided as she walked
into her room across the cabin. Before she climbed into the huge odd shaped bed
that filled the room almost completely, she called out to Nick to tell him the
head was all his.

By the time he came down, she was
buried under her down-filled quilt, staring at the ceiling, wishing she didn’t
hear him making all the little noises people made when they got ready for bed.
She’d known him all her life, but she wondered at that moment what he wore to
bed. When they were kids, spending the night at one another’s houses, he used
to wear flannel pajamas with superheroes depicted on them. Then, when they were
teenagers and had gone camping together, he’d slipped into his sleeping bag in
jeans and a t-shirt.

But what did he wear now? Picturing
him in his childhood superhero pajamas made her giggle in the dark. She didn’t
think he’d go to bed in his clothes. No doubt, he’d be wearing his underwear,
or nothing.

Oh geez! Don’t go there! Do not
imagine him naked, she scolded herself, but, of course, it didn’t do any good.
The image just wouldn’t go away once it was implanted in her brain.

She turned onto one side, then
another. She pulled the quilt over her head. It got too hot. She kicked it off.
She rearranged her pillows, punched them, turned onto her stomach and covered
her head with them. Swearing mutely beneath them, she cursed the man in the
other room, certain he was soundly asleep snoring by now, not giving her a
second’s thought. If he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, he most certainly would not
be thinking of her in here, wondering
what she had worn to bed
.

Go to sleep, Hanna! Forget the damn
man!
It was a
reprimand that she repeated over and over to herself like counting sheep, until
she finally fell into a restless, agitated sleep.

WITH HIS HANDS FOLDED BEHIND HIS HEAD,
Nick Kelly listened to the woman in the bedroom a few feet away. Every time she
tossed and turned, the wood frame beneath her mattress creaked and groaned.

Why was she tossing and turning so
much? Was she too hot in there? What did she have on anyway? Aw, hell, no guess
work there! He knew Hanna Wallace well enough to be certain it would be a set
of long-sleeved, long-legged pajamas, probably flannel. No skimpy, lacy nightie
or negligee for her. She was much too conservative for something like that. She
didn’t openly display her assets. She didn’t even flirt. She just wore her
beauty beneath her quiet dignity. Only she had no idea that she truly was
beautiful. Colleen had been right about that.

He had spent half the night wondering
how fast he could get her out of her sexy little dress, and the other half
staring at her mouth, thinking how much he wanted to lick all that frosted pink
lipstick off. She had the nicest shaped mouth, soft and naturally pouty. The
way her lips tilted slightly upwards at each corner made her seem like she wore
a perpetual, secret smile. When he teased her, he could coax a really big smile
out of her, one that deepened the barely perceptible dimples in her cheeks. He
loved her smiles— her dreamy ones, her secret ones, her full-fledged ones.

And he loved her bottle green eyes.
They could sparkle like an emerald in the sunlight. They were so clear, so
guileless, so fathomless. He loved it when they darkened with pleasure or lit
up with laughter. And he really liked the way she’d had her hair cut and
colored, too. The honey blonde color had always suited her, but the highlights
she’d added right after he’d come home emphasized her flawless, peach toned
complexion. The shorter, softer style was sexy and feminine. He liked the way
it swung around her neck and jaw every time she moved.

At Kurt’s tonight, her natural shyness
had faded with each glass of wine she’d drunk. Walking her back to the boat had
not exactly been a brilliant idea, though. In the moonlight, under the stars,
all he’d wanted to do was stop and kiss her senseless.

Lord! What was he going to do about
the beautiful doctor? He ached for her so much, he was in physical pain, even
after a cold shower. He wanted to go into that bedroom of hers and crawl
beneath the covers with her, strip her pajamas off, and hold her naked in his
arms. He remembered exactly how exquisitely soft her skin had felt the last
time he had made love to her.