Hot-Blooded

Karen Foley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For my friends and colleagues, Storme, Greta, Kelly, and Gladys—the fearless women who have volunteered to serve and sacrifice. You are amazing. Thank you for your support!

Dear Reader,

I was so excited when my editor proposed the It Takes a Hero series. What could be better than a story that involves a tough, capable, totally hot guy in a uniform? Especially when he’s willing to put everything—including his heart and his life—on the line?

My day job with the Department of Defense provides me with some unique opportunities to work alongside our men and women in uniform, including those who take voluntary deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. While I’ve never found the courage to do this myself, several of my female colleagues have done so. For the most part, these women have been assigned to the larger bases with nice living quarters, fitness centers, etc. But I couldn’t help thinking … what would happen if a woman suddenly found herself in a remote outpost that contained none of these amenities? What if she had to depend on a tough, capable, irresistibly sexy guy for everything? And what if he found himself tempted to throw protocol and training out the window in order to meet her every need?

I hope you enjoy Chase and Elena’s story … and that it meets your every reading need.

Enjoy!

Karen

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Copyright

Prologue

Anbar Province, Iraq

THE SPIT of machine-gun fire and the acrid stench of burning oil and scorched metal filled the air. First Sergeant Chase McCormick surveyed the battle through a pair of high-optic binoculars from his perch atop an armored Humvee. He and his special ops team had just extracted a pair of Marine snipers from a site twenty miles away when they’d received reports of a large U.S. supply convoy traveling through the dangerous Anbar province. They’d immediately made a detour to intercept the convoy and escort them through the region, but they’d arrived too late.

Insurgents, hidden in an orchard on one side of the dusty road and in a crudely dug trench on the other, had attacked the convoy, which was now taking heavy fire from both sides. Chase had to give the truck drivers credit; along with their security detail, they were some tough sons of bitches and were holding their own.

Despite the fact the insurgents had managed to destroy two Humvees and the lead supply truck, their smallarms fire was mostly inaccurate and ineffectual. Chase had seen enough combat to know that this battle would be over shortly, but the entire scenario had him pissed off on a level so deep that he had to shut that part of himself down or risk losing his focus on the immediate mission.

While Al-Qaeda had, for the most part, been neutralized in the Anbar province, there were still pockets of rebellion and several attacks on the U.S. troops had occurred in recent weeks. Chase had received intel reports that the insurgents were hiding twenty miles to the north, where the sniper team had been conducting reconnaissance for the past five days. But in reality they had been here, digging their damned trenches and stockpiling their IEDs and rocket-propelled grenades.

As he watched, a driver exited one of the supply vehicles. Chase saw she was female, and she was aiming her weapon at the tree line, focused on some hidden target that even Chase couldn’t see. In the next instant a second soldier, who up until that moment had been manning a fifty-caliber gun mounted on top of one of the convoy’s gun trucks, abruptly abandoned his position and swung to the ground, apparently intent on intercepting and protecting the woman.

“Son of a bitch,” Chase muttered beneath his breath, and swung his gun around to cover the man. Didn’t he realize his best option for protecting the girl was to stay with his weapon?

As the soldier sprinted toward the woman, he took a direct hit from the assailant hidden in the trees, and went down on his knees before pitching face forward onto the ground. Chase swept the tree line with machine-gun fire, but was forced to stop when the female soldier stepped directly into his sights. She shouldered her weapon and bent to drag the wounded man to safety, and Chase reluctantly admired her guts even as he cursed her lack of self-preservation. She was completely vulnerable, and it seemed he was the only one who realized it.

Well, not the only one.

A shadow moved in the trees behind her, but before he could lock his sights on the target, the girl blocked his shot. Cursing, he shifted to a better position, when he saw the flash of a muzzle blast from the trees. The female soldier jerked once and then fell forward, covering the other soldier’s body with her own and providing Chase with an unobstructed view of where the insurgent hid.

Only the man was no longer there.

Peering through the scope on his gun, Chase surveyed the area and saw the target lying in the grass beside a tree. He’d taken a direct hit, and Chase could see that he no longer posed a threat to anyone. He didn’t need to guess who had eliminated the target; only the sniper team on the far ridge could have made such a difficult shot.

He swept his rifle scope over the two fallen soldiers to see that the female had risen to her knees. After briefly examining a wound to her shoulder, she bent over and began doggedly dragging her unconscious buddy across the ground to the relative safety of the trucks. Chase continued to provide cover, although he knew the sniper team was probably covering her, as well.

As much as he admired the woman for her bravery, Chase could have cheerfully shaken her. If she hadn’t left the safety of her truck, then the gunner wouldn’t have felt the need to abandon his own post in order to protect her, and neither of them would now be injured.

Women. He snorted in disgust.

He came from a long and distinguished line of military service, but there was one main reason he’d opted to join the Marine Corps special-operations command: they didn’t allow females into their ranks.

He’d always maintained that women had no place in combat, an opinion that had less to do with their ability to do the job and more to do with the inability of their male counterparts to handle them doing the job. He’d seen hardened soldiers go soft and throw years of training and protocol out the window in order to protect a female soldier, or help her to complete a task that she could have handled on her own.

He had no idea if the gunner and the female soldier knew each other, but suspected there was some kind of romantic involvement. There usually was. The only thing worse than fighting alongside a female was fighting alongside one that you were also screwing, especially if you were fool enough to let it become about more than just sex. Nothing worse than letting a woman get under your skin.

The behavior he’d just witnessed only reinforced his belief that women shouldn’t be placed in combat situations. He was convinced that if the female soldier had been a man, the gunner never would have abandoned his post. He’d have used his turret gun to cover her, the way he’d been trained to do.

Chase couldn’t imagine losing control simply because a soldier was female. He prided himself on his ability to remain focused and make sound decisions, even under adverse conditions. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he’d never let a woman make him drop his guard on the battlefield. Or in the bedroom.

1

“IF YOU ASK ME, sex is overrated. I’ll admit that it’s pleasant, but earth-shattering? Not even close. Frankly, I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” Elena de la Vega arched a challenging eyebrow at her sister before taking a sip of her white wine.

“That’s because you haven’t had sex with the right guy,” Carmen replied with a secretive gleam in her eyes. “Yet.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Elena scoffed, telling herself she didn’t feel the tiniest bit jealous of the self-satisfied smile on Carmen’s face. “Am I really supposed to believe that every time you and Nick get it on, he makes your toes curl with lust?”

Carmen set her martini down and leaned across the small table they shared, glancing quickly around to ensure none of the other patrons at the cozy sidewalk café could overhear their conversation. “Let’s just say that Nick has a talent for making each time seem like the first time. You know, incredibly arousing. Exciting. Like I’m the hottest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. The way he looks at me, and the things he does” Her expression took on a dreamy quality.

Elena rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’ll take your word for it. Nick may be great in bed, but he’s also incredibly jealous. I couldn’t be with a guy like that.”

Carmen’s smile grew wider. “Nick just wants other guys to know I’m with him. So what if he glowers a little bit, or likes to stay close to me when we’re out together? At least he doesn’t ignore me. I’m a happy, satisfied woman. Can you say the same?”

Elena thought of her own boyfriend, Larry, and a small sigh escaped her. He wasn’t physically impressive, like Carmen’s Nick was, but he was smart and considerate. They’d worked in the same office together for three years and Elena had a lot of respect for him. Larry was a conscientious man who took his job as a cost auditor for the Defense Procurement Agency seriously. He was brilliant when it came to numbers. Elena told herself again that she didn’t mind if he worked long hours, or that he chose to spend most Saturdays in the office rather than with her. He treated her well, and when they did go out, he was a pleasant companion. Their typical routine was to catch a movie or a bite to eat, and then return to her apartment where he could be counted on to give her a very nice orgasm. Not an earth-shattering, body-clenching, toe-curling orgasm, but a nice one all the same.

“Larry is reliable,” she finally said, but didn’t meet her sister’s knowing eyes. Instead, she trailed the tip of her finger around the edge of her wineglass. “I know what to expect with Larry. We get together on Wednesday and Saturday nights, and if our love life is a little … predictable, then who I am to complain?” She raised her gaze to Carmen’s. “I actually prefer it that way.”

“What way?” asked Carmen archly. “Flat on your back, making all the right noises so that he feels like a real man, while you just wish he’d hurry up and finish?”

Elena stared at her sister, amazed. “How did—? No, wait. It isn’t like that.”

“Isn’t it? Don’t forget, you’re the one who dubbed him Old Faithful. As in … he’s predictable and lasts less than two minutes.”

Elena groaned and took a hefty swig of her wine. “That’s not fair. I was a little tipsy that night and said more than I should have. You’re taking it out of context. I dubbed him Old Faithful because he’s, well, dependable. Trustworthy. Faithful. All good traits for a man to have.”

“Or a dog,” Carmen muttered. Then, seeing Elena’s expression, she was instantly contrite. “I agree with you. Absolutely. Those are all good qualities for a man to have, but they shouldn’t be his only qualities. He should make your insides turn to mush and your pulse quicken just thinking about him.” Her expression grew earnest. “Please tell me you’re not going to marry this guy, Elena. You deserve so much more. Every woman should have one great passion in her life. Don’t settle for mediocrity.”

“He hasn’t asked me to marry him yet,” Elena grumbled. “And I said our love life is predictable, not mediocre.”

“Oh, come on,” Carmen scoffed, and sat back in her chair. “Your boyfriend is boring. Your life is boring. When was the last time you did something exciting? Something that made your heart pound and your mouth go dry?” She leaned forward again. “You’re almost thirty, Elena, and yet you’ve never done any of the wacky things that most people do when they’re in their twenties. Nick and I had sex on the roof of his building last night, under the stars. It was amazing.”

“Nick’s rooftop garden is amazing,” Elena said drily, ignoring her sister’s jabs. “I’m sure you’re not the first girl he’s brought up there.”

Carmen narrowed her eyes. “So what if I’m not the first? I’ll be the last.”

Elena shrugged. “Well, it’s your heart. Risk it if you want to.”

“See? That’s my whole point. You’re not willing to take any risks, Elena. You’d rather settle for safe and boring than take a chance on something exciting. Something that could change your life.” She shook her head in mock sadness. “You have no idea what you’re missing.”

Elena dabbed her mouth with her linen napkin before folding it neatly beside her plate, silently counting to ten. She refused to be baited.

“I don’t feel as if I’m settling,” she finally said, hoping that she sounded convincing. “And not everyone wants that kind of excitement in their life, Carmen. I’ve watched what great passion has done to Mom and Dad, and even to you.” She fished in her pocketbook for some money and carefully placed several bills on the table. “I don’t want that kind of chaos in my life. Larry is kind and considerate and I always know exactly what to expect from him. I’m happy with what I have.” Seeing the disbelief on her sister’s face, she stood up. “Really, I am. Look, I have to go. Thanks for lunch. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

As she walked to her car, Elena refused to feel guilty for prematurely ending their lunch. The whole thing was Carmen’s fault, anyway. It seemed every time they got together, the conversation turned to Elena’s love life. Neither of her two sisters could understand Larry’s appeal, but they didn’t know him the way Elena did. Admittedly, he wasn’t adventurous in bed, but so what? Not everyone was into that kinky stuff, as Larry put it. And any therapist worth his salt would tell you that a successful relationship should be based on trust and mutual respect. Not sex.

Never sex.

All she had to do was look at her family for proof. Given the choice between a life of calm predictability or the blood-pounding, roof-raising drama that seemed to accompany her parents and her siblings wherever they went, Elena preferred the former.

She always would.

Even so, her sister’s words rankled, partly because Elena knew that on some level, they were true. But she’d chosen her path with careful deliberation. Sure, there were times when she felt that she was meant for something bigger and more exciting, but she simply had to spend time with her parents and sisters to remember exactly why she’d opted for the conventional life she now led.

Her family might boast about the hot, Spanish blood that flowed through their veins, claiming it was the reason for their unpredictable and often volatile behavior, but Elena wanted no part of it. She’d watched her parents divorce and remarry each other twice; she’d spent countless nights with each of her sisters, lending both an ear and a shoulder as they’d wept and wailed about the failure of yet another relationship. Her younger sister, Sarita, actually enjoyed dating two, even three men at a time and then watching the fireworks when they found out about each other. That kind of excitement she could do without.

Granted, Nick Belcastro seemed like a decent guy, and he was both gorgeous and financially independent, but Elena wondered how long he’d tolerate Carmen’s mood swings before he decided he’d had enough.

Elena glanced at her watch as she pulled out of the restaurant parking lot. Nearly one-thirty. Was Larry still at the office? They had plans to go out to dinner and a movie later on, but Elena suddenly had an urge to see him, if only to reassure herself that he wasn’t as mediocre as Carmen claimed. She could picture him in his office, surrounded by papers, with his hair sticking up from where he’d combed his fingers through it in frustration. Deciding he could use a break, she swung the car in the direction of the federal building where they both worked. Even if he’d already left, there was some paperwork she could collect from her own office and bring home with her.

Twenty minutes later, Elena passed through the security checkpoint and walked through the darkened corridors toward Larry’s office. The Defense Procurement Agency oversaw the purchase and delivery of goods and services for the military. Elena and Larry worked in the agency’s headquarters, an impressive four-story structure of limestone and sleek marble, located on the outskirts of Washington, D.C.

After obtaining her law degree, Elena had spent the first few years of her career negotiating and administering contracts for the military, everything from nuts and bolts to major weapons systems. She was good at what she did. So good that she’d been offered a promotion to the DPA’s legal department, writing policy and procedure manuals for the agency’s contracting center. There was very little that Elena didn’t know about contracting, both from an administrative and a legal perspective.

Her parents might be disappointed that she hadn’t chosen to use her law degree in litigation, but striding up and down a courtroom while making impassioned speeches to a judge and jury held little appeal for Elena. Nope, she enjoyed researching regulations and statutes, and then applying them to how the agency did business. She didn’t mind sitting through oversight meetings and briefing senior leadership on changes in federal procurement policy. She told herself yet again that what she did mattered. She was making a difference.

Elena stopped briefly at the mailroom and checked her box, flipping through the assorted envelopes and papers for anything that might require her immediate attention. Most of the mail was routine correspondence, including a letter from the Director’s office requesting civilian volunteers—especially those with contracts and legal experience—to work in Iraq for six months, negotiating and monitoring the defense contracts there. According to the memo, such volunteer deployments were the agency’s number-one mission.

Elena snorted. As if that would ever happen. This was the third such call for volunteers in as many months, and while most folks who did volunteer had only positive things to say about their deployment experience, Elena couldn’t imagine working in Iraq or Afghanistan. While she had an extensive background negotiating military contracts, the agency couldn’t pay her enough money to go over there. She disliked being hot, and having mortars lobbed at her wasn’t a huge incentive, either.

Carrying her mail in one hand, she walked toward Larry’s office. His door was closed and she had a moment’s regret that she’d missed him, when she saw a shadow pass beneath the crack at the bottom. Just then, a crash sounded from behind the closed door and Elena heard Larry give a pained groan.

“Larry!” She thrust the door open so hard that it slammed against the wall, and then she stood there, speechless at the sight that greeted her.

Larry stood at the side of his desk with his pants and underwear crumpled around his ankles, his shirt open and flapping loosely around his pale buttocks and thighs. Sprawled facedown across his desk was a woman, her black skirt pushed up around her waist. Her legs were splayed wide, the stiletto heels on her shoes lending them extra length. Larry gripped the woman’s hips as she bent forward over the desk, thrusting himself into her. His head was thrown back and the cords in his neck stood out in a way that Elena had never seen when he’d been with her.

The crash she’d heard had been Larry’s alabaster paperweight falling to the floor as the woman swept it from the surface of the desk in her frenzy. The paperweight Elena had given to him on Valentine’s Day last year.

In the instant before they both turned toward her, Elena recognized the other woman as one of the new interns they’d hired in the legal department. Her reddish hair fell forward over her face, and her eyes were hazy with pleasure. Her full lips were parted and moist as she gripped the edges of the desk and arched her back to give Larry better access. When she raised herself to look toward the door, Elena saw her pink blouse was open at the front and her bra was pulled down below her breasts, which had left a damp mark on the glossy veneer of the desk.

For a moment, the three of them stared at each other. Larry’s harsh breathing was the only sound that broke the stunned silence, until he muttered an oath and snatched himself from the woman’s body.

Elena didn’t wait to see more. She turned on her heel and walked blindly back the way she’d come, unable to dispel the erotic images she’d just witnessed. She tried to recall when the woman—Claire—had first begun working at the agency. Five months ago, maybe? Six? How long had she and Larry been having an affair? Was this what he did every Saturday when he told her he was going into the office?

“Elena, wait.”

Larry trotted down the corridor after her, shoving his shirt into his waistband. Elena stopped and watched him approach, noting his flushed features and disheveled hair. She’d always thought he was attractive, but now all she could see were his white legs and thin buttocks, pumping furiously into another woman.

“What do you want, Larry?” She glanced at her watch, ignoring how her hand trembled. “I really can’t stay. I only came by because I thought you needed a break from work.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Little did I know.”

Larry swiped a hand through his hair, looking both embarrassed and defiant. “You should have called. You always call first.”

Elena gaped at him. “I should have called? Excuse me, but I work here, too. I don’t need your permission to come by the office after hours, Larry.” She ran a scathing eye over him. “It figures that the first time I do, this is what I find. You, in a sweaty clutch with the office intern. It’s so cliché that it’s actually pathetic. What if someone else had seen you? You both could be fired for this.”

“I think I’m in love with her,” he blurted, then swiped a hand across his face. “I mean, I know I’m in love with her. I am in love with her.”

Elena’s mouth fell open, but no words came out. She stared at him, speechless.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean for you to find us—to find out like this.” He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced toward his office where he’d left Claire. “It’s just that—”

“What?” Elena asked sarcastically. “I wasn’t willing to spread myself across your desk? To fulfill your naughty little fantasies? Maybe I would have done it, Larry. Maybe all you had to do was ask, but now you’ll never know what I might have done, will you?”

To Elena’s dismay, Larry’s face grew tight. “I never asked, because I already knew what the answer would be. You’re not exactly Miss Excitement.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Elena gasped, but she had a sinking feeling that she already knew. His words sounded a little too much like the conversation she’d had with her sister earlier that day.

“I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have,” Larry began, “but it wasn’t until I met Claire that I realized what I’d been missing with you.”

Elena’s eyebrows flew up. What? The numbness that had enveloped her when she’d first walked into Larry’s office was rapidly vanishing, to be replaced with a slow, simmering anger.

“Oh, and what would that be?” she asked sweetly. “I don’t seem to recall that you were missing out on anything. You had sex every week—and that was just with me. I always paid my own way when we went out. I never objected if you wanted to play golf with the guys, or head up to Atlantic City for a weekend. I never demanded anything of you, Larry, and I was always there when you wanted me. Basically, you had a perfect relationship.”

Larry missed the sharp edge beneath the silken veil of her words. “Yeah, it was a perfect relationship all right. Perfectly boring.”

“Boring? You think I’m boring?”

Larry made a sound of frustration. “No, that’s not what I said, but since you brought it up, then yes! I think you’re boring. Okay? Are you happy now? I said it!”

“Oh. My. God.” Elena stared at him in disbelief. “You’re serious.”

Didn’t he realize that in their relationship he was the boring one? He was the stereotypical accountant—detailed, meticulous and not given to extravagance or grand gestures. He was the kind of guy that you’d pass on the street and never look at twice. He appealed to her because he was ordinary and because she always knew what to expect from him. At least, she amended silently, she’d thought she always knew what to expect. And now, to find out that he thought she was boring!

“Listen, Elena, you’re a beautiful woman, but you’re too set in your ways. You need to be a little more flexible. You need to live a little.”

Elena arched an eyebrow. “It certainly appears your new girlfriend is flexible. Is that what this is all about, Larry? Having sex in forbidden places?”

Larry’s face turned a ruddy shade. “No, of course not. But it does have something to do with spontaneity. Face it, Elena. Your entire life is about order and routine. You’re a creature of habit, and you hate surprises. You’re about as capable of spontaneity as a fish is of flying.”

Later, Elena would not be sure what made her do it. She only knew that in that particular moment, the most important thing in the world was to prove Larry wrong. To show him irrefutable proof that she was as capable of being spontaneous and exciting as the next person. She snatched the director’s memorandum from the sheaf of mail she clutched in her hand and waved it beneath Larry’s nose.

“Oh, yeah? Well, here’s a little bit of spontaneity for you. I’ve decided to do a six-month deployment to Iraq.”

To her dismay, Larry’s eyebrows flew up, and he gave a snort of disbelieving laughter. “Oh, come on. We both know you’re bluffing. When did you decide this? Two seconds ago? We both know you’d never volunteer to go over there. You may not be a spur-of-the-moment girl, but you’re not stupid, either. Besides, you enjoy your creature comforts just a little too much to go to Iraq for six months. I can’t picture you sharing a B-hut with twenty other women, or eating in a chow hall every night.”

“Oh, really?” Elena tossed her head. “Well, believe it or not, I’m going. And I understand there are battalions of healthy, young, hard-bodied soldiers who would do anything to keep me safe. In fact, I’m sure my deployment will be rewarding on many different levels.”

To her satisfaction, Larry no longer looked quite so skeptical. “You’re kidding, right? That’s your damned sisters talking. You’d never actually do it.”

Elena gave him a sweet smile. “Watch me,” she purred, and turned on her heel and walked away.

2

Kuwait City, six weeks later

THWAP, THWAP, Thwap.

The steady sound of helicopter blades cut through the air overhead, but Elena hardly noticed the noise. After three days spent sitting in a converted hangar alongside the U.S. military airstrip in Kuwait City, she’d become well accustomed to the sound of both helicopters and jets as they came in and then left again. The kicker was she should have been on one of those helicopters long before now.

She’d seen her orders; she was going to the Green Zone in Baghdad, where she would try to clean up the colossal mess that had been made of the military contracts there. She’d heard countless stories about how good the quality of life was in the Zone, and she’d actually begun looking forward to her deployment. In the six weeks since she’d volunteered to come to Iraq, she’d had plenty of opportunity to examine her life and had concluded that both Carmen and Larry were right—it was boring.

But that was all about to change. She was shaking things up in a big way. She’d embarked on an adventure and made a promise to herself to embrace each new and exciting opportunity as it came her way, no matter what. Now she stared at the woman holding the clipboard that contained her new orders, and silently counted to ten, willing herself to control her rising temper.

“What do you mean they’ve changed my assignment?” she demanded in dismay. “I’ve been sitting in this hangar for three days, waiting for a sandstorm to subside so that I can fly to Baghdad, Iraq. As in the Green Zone, complete with fitness center, modern plumbing and a fast-food burger joint. That’s what I signed up for—” she broke off to glance at the front of the woman’s uniform “—Major Dumfries. Not some remote outpost in northern Afghanistan.”

The other woman didn’t even have the grace to look apologetic. Instead, she met Elena’s gaze unflinchingly. “Your deployment paperwork clearly states that your assignment can change at any time, depending on need. The Defense Procurement Agency has indicated they now need you in Afghanistan, and you need to be flexible, ma’am.” She glanced again at the clipboard. “We have a helicopter departing for the outpost at 0600 hours tomorrow morning. I’ll see you back here at the airstrip then.”

Elena’s mouth fell open. “Wait! That’s it? Just like that, I’m now going to some hellhole in Afghanistan? How can you do this? Is it even legal?”

Major Dumfries smiled. “I don’t make the assignments, ma’am. I just make sure the folks get there in one piece.”

Elena took a deep breath and reminded herself yet again that this was an adventure—a new opportunity—and she would embrace it wholeheartedly. She pasted a smile on her face.

“Fine. I’ll go to this outpost.” Reaching down, she lifted her rucksack onto one shoulder and then hefted her two duffel bags with as much dignity as she could manage, considering they weighed about a gazillion pounds each. She started to turn away, and then swung back toward the Major. “Just out of curiosity, what kind of facilities do they have at this place?”

“Facilities?” The other woman’s eyebrow arched.

“Yes. As in dining hall, fitness center, recreation center … please tell me this outpost has facilities.”

Major Dumfries’s mouth twitched. “I understand they’re still in the process of improving the post, but they do have toilets and showers.”

Elena stared at her. “What about a dining hall? They must have that, right?”

“I believe there is a dining facility, yes.”

Elena drew in a deep breath. “Are there any other civilians at this outpost?”

“Several, as a matter of fact.”

Elena supposed she should be grateful for that. If there were other civilians at the outpost, then the living conditions couldn’t be too primitive. But she’d heard horror stories about some of the forward operating bases located on the northern and eastern perimeters of Afghanistan, particularly in regards to their vulnerability. She hadn’t planned on going to an area that was potentially dangerous. After all, she wasn’t a soldier. She had no combat training. She was a contracts geek—a desk jockey, for Pete’s sake. Her job was to meet with the defense contractors who were doing work on the various military bases and to negotiate terms and conditions for performance of that work. Aside from ensuring that the soldiers had the facilities and equipment they needed to perform their jobs, she had no military background.

“I’ve heard some of these outlying bases come under frequent attack by the Taliban,” she ventured. “Is that the case with this particular base?”

Major Dumfries gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ll be in safe hands, ma’am. We haven’t lost a civilian yet. There’s a special-operations detachment based there. They’ll keep you safe.”

Elena swiped a hand across her eyes. “I need a drink.”

She wasn’t aware she’d muttered the words aloud until she saw the amusement in the other woman’s eyes. “Alcohol is prohibited in Kuwait City, ma’am.”

“Great,” she replied. “I can’t even have a last drink before I leave civilization.”

Major Dumfries tucked the clipboard under her arm and leaned forward, glancing around to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard. “This is strictly off the record, but sometimes the U.S. embassy personnel have access to alcohol. I understand they’re having a small send-off tonight over at the hotel for some of their aides who are returning to the States.”

A party? At the hotel? That was the first positive bit of news she’d had since arriving in Kuwait City three days earlier. Since then, it seemed she’d done nothing but schlep her gear back and forth between the hotel and the military airstrip, waiting for transportation to her final destination. Which was supposed to be the Green Zone, not some scary outpost in eastern Afghanistan.

Oh, yeah, she definitely needed a drink.

“Do I need an invitation to get in?”

“No, ma’am. Just take the elevator up to the concierge level at 2000 hours and follow the noise. Nobody will even notice you’re there. But don’t overdo it. The only thing worse than flying in a helicopter is flying in one with a hangover.”

ELENA STEPPED OUT of the elevator and paused. Major Dumfries had been right about the noise; she could hear the festivities from down the hall, and it sounded as if the party was in full swing. She hesitated, hoping she’d dressed appropriately. Nothing worse than standing out in a crowd when all she wanted to do was blend in. While she’d brought five sets of agency-issued uniforms with her, she’d been restricted on how much civilian clothing she could bring from home, and had settled on several pairs of pants and tops, and some comfortable workout gear. The crimson blouse she’d chosen to wear with her jeans wasn’t dressy, but it would have to do. She wore her dark hair loose around her shoulders, allowing it to wave naturally around her face, and had opted for just a touch of mascara and some lipstick.

She drew in a deep breath and smoothed her palms over the seat of her jeans. Crashing a party of strangers was totally out of character for her, not to mention bad manners. She wasn’t sure she had the courage to go through with it.

But then she remembered that by this time tomorrow, she’d be hundreds of miles away from here and nobody would even remember—or care—that she’d been at this party. She’d never even see these people again. Really, what did she have to lose? This might be the last night she had to enjoy herself for the next six months. Straightening her spine, she followed the sound of music and laughter. If this was going to be her last night in civilization, she was going to make it one to remember.

As soon as she stepped into the function room, Elena realized she needn’t have worried. There were dozens of people inside, all of them talking or laughing together in small groups, and none of them paid her any attention. Several even smiled at her in a friendly, offhand manner. The lights had been dimmed to a pleasant glow, and a bar had been set up along one wall. The music was loud and upbeat, and a cloud of cigarette smoke hung suspended near the ceiling. Most of the people were men of varying ages and although all of them wore casual clothing, it wasn’t difficult for Elena to distinguish the active-duty military from the civilians. If their haircuts didn’t set them apart, their physical conditioning did.

Elena skirted the crowd and sidled over to the bar, where bottles of alcohol were lined up alongside plastic cups and an ice bucket. When she didn’t see a bartender, she looked around, uncertain.

“It’s an open bar, hon, so help yourself.”

Elena turned to see a woman approach the bar beside her and liberally pour herself a glass of white wine from an uncorked bottle. She was older than Elena, probably in her forties.

“Are you sure? I mean, who provided all of this?”

The woman smiled and gave Elena a friendly wink. “You know the old adage—don’t ask, don’t tell. All I can say is drink up, because you never know when we’ll have this opportunity again.”

That was the truth, Elena thought bleakly. Just thinking about what lay in store for her in the days and weeks ahead made her unaccountably homesick for her cozy little apartment back home. Despite the fact that she’d volunteered for this deployment, right now she couldn’t think of a single good reason for being here. Most people who volunteered did so because they had some patriotic calling or felt the need to support the troops in some way. Others did it for the money, which was in itself a huge incentive. But not her.

Nope.

She’d come because she’d had something to prove. Because she’d wanted everyone—her sister and cheating ex-boyfriend included—to see that she could be spontaneous and adventurous. She’d wanted to kick-start her life back into gear, but right now she just felt out of place and oddly alone, even in the midst of the party. She’d been excited about going to Baghdad, knowing she’d be just one of hundreds of civilians, and that the quality of life there was pretty good. But the prospect of spending six months at a remote outpost in the wilds of Afghanistan was another matter altogether. Quite frankly, it scared the hell out of her. She recalled Major Dumfries’ assurance that they hadn’t lost a civilian yet, but found little comfort in her words.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” the woman continued. “Where are you stationed?”

“Oh, I just came in from the States three days ago,” Elena explained. “I’ve been waiting for transportation to Baghdad, but just found out this morning that my orders have been changed.”

The woman nodded sympathetically. “That happens a lot. Where are they sending you now?”

Elena squinted, trying to recall the name of the base where she was headed. “Some forward operating base in Afghanistan. Shangri-la?” She laughed. “No, that’s not right, because I’m pretty sure this place isn’t paradise.”

“Do you mean Sharlana?“

“Yes! That’s the place.”

The woman’s face grew sober, and she took a long swallow of her wine, avoiding eye contact.

“What’s wrong?” Elena asked, dread uncoiling in her stomach. “Do you know something about Shangri-la that I don’t?”

The woman lowered her cup and sighed. “Didn’t you hear? The Taliban attacked a U.S. base just forty miles north of Sharlana last night. Eight civilians were killed.”

What?

Elena stared at the woman. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” The woman gave a bitter laugh. “There are no military stationed there. Rumor has it that the civilians who were assigned there—including the ones who died—had ties to the CIA, so the base is probably only used by intelligence personnel.”

Elena blew out a hard breath. “That’s awful.” She hesitated. “Has anything like that ever happened at Shangri-la, er, Sharlana?”

“Not that I know of, but then again, there’s a Marine expeditionary unit stationed at Sharlana to deter any attacks.” She smiled at Elena. “You’ll be perfectly safe.”

That was the second time that day she’d heard those words, so why did she have trouble believing them? With a groan, she grabbed the nearest bottle and proceeded to pour several fingers of a pale green liquor into a plastic cup. She tipped it back, swallowing the entire contents in a single, long gulp and then gasped as the alcohol burned the back of her throat and made her eyes sting.

“Whoa, take it easy,” admonished the other woman, watching her with a mixture of astonishment and admiration. “That stuff’ll knock you on your ass.”

“Oh, good,” Elena gasped, as warmth seeped through her body. “I’m actually in need of a little technical knockout.”

The woman laughed. “Suit yourself. Just remember that you’ve been warned. Good luck, hon.”

Elena watched the woman saunter away before she poured herself another glass of the green liquid, this time filling the cup. The alcohol had left a pleasant taste in her mouth, a sweet mixture of black licorice with minty undertones. She took a hefty swig, swirling the liquid around on her tongue and enjoying the flavor. She never drank anything other than wine or the occasional glass of beer, and now she wondered why. This stuff was delicious.

“Careful there. You know what they say about the Green Devil.”

The voice was deep and amused, and something inside Elena quivered in response. She turned to see a man leaning negligently against the bar, watching her. A broad-shouldered, lean-hipped man with a face that could have graced any number of different magazines, from guns and hunting, to high fashion. The appreciation in his eyes, combined with his lazy smile, caused a rush of heat to slide through her veins that had nothing to do with the liquor she’d just consumed.

He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, and her first thought was that he had a body designed for battle—or a woman’s pleasure—honed to masculine perfection and sculpted in a way that she’d read about but had never actually seen up close. He had impossibly chiseled cheekbones and a mouth that would put a Renaissance angel to shame. In the indistinct light, she couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, and his dark hair was cropped close in a distinctly military style. He was altogether delicious.

Elena wanted to bite him.

The thought came out of nowhere and shocked her so much that she started, sloshing the alcohol over her fingers.

“Green Devil?” she repeated lamely, sucking the liquid from her fingers and trying not to stare.

He nodded toward the cup she held. “Another name for absinthe.” Reaching out, his hand closed around the cup, his fingers brushing against hers and sending a quicksilver thrill of awareness through her. “Did you know this stuff was banned in the U.S. until just a few years ago?”

“No, I had no idea.” Elena watched as he swirled the cup in contemplation. “Why was it banned?”

He raised his gaze to hers, and one corner of his delectable mouth lifted in the barest hint of a smile. “The government believed it contained hallucinogenic properties, and could cause a person to lose their sanity.”

Elena had absolutely no doubt that it was true. In fact, she was certain that she was hallucinating at that exact instant. What other reason could there be for the vivid images that were flying through her head? Images of this man, naked and gleaming with sweat as his body moved with purpose and strength over hers, his muscles flexing as he drove into her. She could actually smell him, a mixture of pure, male sex and something subtle and spicy, and the combination made her feel intoxicated.

Oh, yeah. She had definitely lost her sanity.

She passed a hand over her eyes and gave a shaky laugh, trying to dispel the erotic imagery. “Wow. I had no idea. I guess I owe you a big thank-you for saving me.”

“Chase McCormick,” he said, extending a hand. “Always glad to be of service.”

Oh, if only!

Elena reached out, and his fingers closed warmly over hers. Hardly realizing she did so, she stepped closer to him. The only thing she was conscious of was a slow heat building low in her abdomen, and how her breasts felt full and tight.

“Elena de la Vega.” Was that her voice that sounded so husky and breathless?

He smiled, and the floor shifted beneath Elena’s feet. The man was more gorgeous than he had any right to be, but when he smiled … sweet mercy!

“Easy,” he said, and set the cup aside to grasp her beneath her elbow. He dipped his head to look into her eyes. “You okay? For a second there, you looked as if you were going down.”

Now there was an idea.

How long had it been since she’d pleasured a man with her mouth? On that score, her sister Carmen had been right. Her sex life had been boring and predictable, and as much as she’d like to put the blame fully on Larry, he’d had no trouble trying something risqué with his new girlfriend. Which meant Elena must be the one with the problem, and it was way past time she did something about it.

Now she looked at Chase McCormick, and just the thought of tasting him … of having him in her mouth … caused ribbons of lust to unfurl low in her belly. In fact, just thinking about touching this man caused her heart to beat faster. She had no idea who this guy was, and yet here she was, contemplating doing risqué things with him that she’d never done with Larry.

Her eyes slid over Chase again, admiring the broad thrust of his shoulders and the way his T-shirt hugged the contours of his pecs and his flat stomach. She wanted badly to touch him.

She’d worked with dozens of military guys over the years, and while several of them had made their interest in her clear, Elena had never been tempted into a relationship. For the most part, they’d been too masculine, brimming with testosterone and confidence. She’d known instinctively that a man like that could overwhelm her, both physically and emotionally. The last thing she needed—or wanted—was to be dependent on another person for her own happiness. She’d seen what that kind of neediness had done to her parents and had vowed she wouldn’t make the same mistake.

But as her gaze drifted over Chase’s leanly muscled physique, she couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to be with him, to let him overwhelm her.

To lose herself in him.

He was the sort who would take his time with a woman, ensuring her pleasure before reaching his own. He would be assertive, playful and maybe even a little kinky. For one wild instant, her imagination surged. Images of Chase, wearing nothing but his dog tags, played through her head as she envisioned all the things they could do.

Then she remembered that after tonight, she would leave for some godforsaken outpost in northern Afghanistan where there was a real possibility, however small, that she would be killed. In that instant, she regretted every wild, crazy, impetuous thing she had never done. For instance, she’d never had casual sex, and had never engaged in a one-night stand. Instead, she’d deluded herself into believing she was happy having mediocre sex with Larry Gorman.

But she still had tonight to make up for all those years of self-denial, and somehow she had a feeling that this guy could make it all worthwhile. Withdrawing her hand from Chase’s, Elena deliberately picked up the cup of absinthe.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, smiling. “In fact, I’m better than fine, and if this stuff makes a person insane, then I want more.” Without taking her eyes from his, she tipped the cup back and drained the contents, willing herself not to cough on the strong alcohol. When she’d swallowed it, she delicately licked her lips and gave him what she hoped was a seductive look. “Because tonight, I intend to go a little crazy. Wanna come along for the ride?”

3

CHASE SWEPT HIS GAZE over the woman, trying not to let his surprise show, trying not to let her see how much he wanted to accept her offer. She’d caught his attention the moment she’d walked through the door, alone and looking a little apprehensive. He was certain she didn’t work at the embassy; she lacked the self-important swagger so common among the State Department personnel. That meant she was a Department of Defense civilian or a contractor, either just coming into the Middle Eastern theater or leaving it. He hoped like hell it was the latter.

She appealed to him on a primal level, from her lustrous dark hair and suggestive smile, to her full breasts and shapely ass. He wanted to do things with her that he had no business doing, not when he was leaving for a yearlong deployment. What could he offer her, or any woman for that matter, beyond a single night? Then again, if he were to take her proposition seriously, it seemed that was all she was interested in. A single night.

The prospect was tempting. More than tempting, especially considering he was looking down the loaded gun barrel of enforced celibacy. Twelve long months of it. Even if the military lifted the ban on sex during deployments, he wouldn’t be doing the horizontal tango with anyone. Females in uniform were off-limits, end of discussion.

But this particular female was something altogether different. He’d stake his life on the fact that she wasn’t in the military, so technically he wasn’t prohibited from getting involved with her. Besides, he was more or less off duty until dawn, when he’d board an Apache helicopter and fly to the forward operating base that he’d call home for the next twelve months.

“Dance with me,” he commanded softly and caught her hand, pulling her toward him.

She came willingly into his arms, and he slid one hand to the small of her back, holding her just close enough that he could feel the heat emanating from her body and smell the fragrance of her hair. There was no dance floor, so he simply swayed with her where they stood, enjoying the sensation of just holding a woman in his arms. Of holding this woman. Her breath fanned his neck, and he had to resist the urge to pull her even closer. Her scent filled his head and made him want to bend her over his arm and bury his face against her skin.

“Well, this is nice,” she drawled, tipping her head back to smile at him, “but not quite what I had in mind.” Her voice was rich with suggestion. As if to emphasize her meaning, she sidled closer, so that her breasts pressed against his chest.

Chase’s body responded instantly to her nearness, tightening until he was uncomfortably aware of his own arousal pressing against the zipper of his jeans. He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. It was just too freaking unbelievable that he should meet this gorgeous woman in the middle of Kuwait, the night before he was due to deploy. Didn’t it figure?

“What’s so funny?” she asked. Her eyes were liquid dark pools in the dim light.

“Nothing,” he answered. “So tell me something, Elena de la Vega. What the hell are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “I heard there was a party, so I decided to check it out. Now I’m glad I did.” She swayed unevenly and did a quick shuffle to steady herself, leaning heavily into him. “Whoa,” she laughed. “I’m feeling a little dizzy.”

“That would be the absinthe,” he remarked drily, holding her secure. “It has a way of sneaking up on you, especially when you guzzle it by the glassful.”

“Mmm, but it feels so nice,” she said, sliding one hand over his chest, ostensibly to support herself.

Chase had to agree. Everything about her felt nice, but he hadn’t yet reached the point where he’d take advantage of an intoxicated woman, even as his lower body urged otherwise. He had three younger sisters, and he’d kill any guy who tried to do with them what he was contemplating doing with this woman. Even if he hadn’t been outnumbered by females growing up, his parents had raised him to treat them with respect. His father, a career military man, had drilled one adage into his young head: women were weak and it was a man’s job to protect them. Mostly, though, Chase just avoided them whenever possible. Women were a complication he didn’t need at this point in his life. Maybe one day, when his combat days were over, he’d allow himself to get serious about a woman. But not now.

He shouldn’t let this woman affect him, shouldn’t let himself feel such a primitive desire to possess her. He knew enough about the human psyche to realize it was perfectly normal to crave sex on the eve of battle, so to speak. It was a way to reaffirm life. But Chase had no intention of dying, and as much as his body desired release, he wasn’t interested in a one-night stand.

“How long are you staying here in Kuwait?” he asked. Except for the embassy personnel, the hotel usually served as a temporary staging area for Americans while they waited for transportation to their final destination. Most people only stayed for a night or two before they moved on.

“Hmm?” She was leaning against him, and now she tipped her face back to gaze dreamily at him. “Oh, I leave tomorrow.”

“Are you heading back to the States?”

She smiled. “I’m going to Shangri-la.”

Chase frowned. Shangri-la?

“Paradise on Earth,” she continued. “I can hardly wait.”

“Okay, you know what?” Chase tucked her against his side and steered her through the crowd toward the door. “I think you need to go to bed.”

“Ooh, I like that idea.” She giggled and would have tripped if he hadn’t been holding her. “Are you going to tuck me in?”

Chase gritted his teeth against the erotic images that swam through his head. “I meant that you need to get some sleep,” he clarified. “But yes, I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“So what do you do for a living, Mr. McCormick?” she asked, as he led her into the hallway. “You’re not an accountant by any chance, are you?”

He glanced down at her with an arched eyebrow, but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Sorry, no. Er, what floor are you on?”

She stopped, pulling him to a halt beside her. The lights were brighter in the corridor, allowing Chase to get a good look at her. Her Spanish heritage was evident in her fine bone structure and flawless skin, and he saw that her eyes weren’t dark as he’d originally thought, but a light shade of brown that reminded him of caramel, the irises thickly ringed in black. She was striking.

She pushed a hand into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a room key. “Aha, here it is,” she exclaimed in triumph, holding up the key. She pushed her hair back and peered at it. “Room number six.”

Chase took the key from her fingers and turned it upright. “That would be room number nine,” he corrected. “C’mon, the elevator’s this way.”

“So, you’re a soldier,” Elena mused when they reached the elevator, leaning against the wall as she considered him.

“How could you tell?”

“You have that look.” Her gaze drifted over him, lingering on his shoulders and chest before meeting his eyes. “Tough and serious. Your motto is probably something like Duty, Honor, Country.”

The elevator doors slid open and Chase indicated Elena should precede him into the small compartment. “Actually,” he said wryly, “my command motto is Always Faithful, Always Forward.”

“I like that motto,” Elena said with a smile, as the doors closed. “Especially the faithful part.” She shook her head in mock sadness. “So many men don’t understand the importance of that particular trait.”

The significance of her words wasn’t lost on Chase. So she’d had her heart broken. He shouldn’t care, but he found himself wondering what kind of guy would cheat on a woman like Elena de la Vega. He reminded himself that it was none of his business, but couldn’t help thinking that whoever the guy was, he was a complete ass.

“So where’re you from, soldier?” she asked, giving him a look that could only be described as hot. Chase’s body reacted immediately to the implicit promise in her eyes, and he struggled to think coherently, to remind himself that he was so not going there. No matter how much he might want to.

“I grew up all over the place,” he replied. “My dad was in the military, so we moved around a lot. But his last assignment was in North Carolina, and I did most of my high-school years there.”

“Ah. Fort Bragg or Camp Lejeune?”

He smiled. So she knew something about North Carolina’s military bases. Why did he find that so appealing? “Camp Lejeune, actually. You know it?”

“Only by reputation. Do you still live in North Carolina?”

“I’m based out of Camp Lejeune, and my folks still live in the area.”

“Like father, like son.”

“I hope so,” he said seriously. His dad had been a career marine who’d retired after nearly thirty-five years of distinguished service. He was a tough son of a bitch, but he’d always made sure his family knew how much he loved them. Nothing had made him prouder than the day Chase had been accepted into MARSOC, the elite Marine Corps Special Operations Command.

He’d redeployed back to Camp Lejeune six months ago after spending a year in Iraq, and had been glad for the opportunity to spend some time with his parents and sisters. But when his team had been called up to Afghanistan, he’d been happy to go. Too much time in the States made him feel as if he was going soft.

They reached her floor, and now Chase guided her out of the elevator with one hand at the small of her back. He could have simply let her find her own way, but told himself that he had an obligation to see her safely to her room. He also knew he was full of shit. He simply wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this woman.

They came to her room much too quickly.

“Here you go,” he said gruffly. He inserted her key into the door, pushing it open for her and then stepping back.

Away from temptation.

She didn’t go in. Instead, she leaned against the door frame and considered him. The silky fabric of her blouse stretched taut across her breasts, emphasizing the thrust of her nipples. Chase swallowed hard. He could easily spend hours exploring her lush curves, but it was the expression in her eyes that made it impossible for him to move away. She was looking at him as if he were the most desirable man she’d ever seen, and his own body pulsed hotly in response.

“I wish I wasn’t leaving tomorrow,” she finally said. “I’d have liked to get to know you better.”

Chase gave her a rueful smile, feeling her regret. “Just bad timing, I guess.”

She laughed softly. “You’re not kidding. I’m the queen of bad timing.” She glanced into the open room and then back at Chase, and he knew what was coming before she said the words. “We could get to know each other tonight … if you want to. It’s still early.”

Chase blew out a hard breath and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, hoping she didn’t see his body’s instant response to her words. Visions of her, lying across the sheets, her skin warm and smooth, filled his head. His cock swelled as he imagined himself filling his hands with her breasts, kissing her softness. Did he want to stay? Hell, yes. The problem was, he knew he wouldn’t want to leave, and he had an 0430 bird to catch.

“Forget it,” she said quickly, misinterpreting his gesture. She crossed her arms defensively around her middle and gave him an overly bright smile. “Not such a great idea, I get it.”

“No,” he said roughly, stepping toward her. “That’s not it at all.”

He had a thing about honesty, sometimes to his own detriment. The only time he lied was when he absolutely had to, like when he was on a mission. Then, he could lie so beautifully that his own mother wouldn’t doubt he’d told the truth. And he had no problem with small white lies if they were harmless, like telling a woman that no, those pants did not make her ass look big. But he had a sinking feeling that now was going to be one of those times when he’d look back and regret his own inability to completely dupe a woman. It was important to him that she understand his reasons for turning her down.

“You’re a beautiful woman,” he continued. “Being with you tonight would be … amazing, but it couldn’t be anything more than just one night. I leave at dawn for a twelve-month deployment, so anything more would be impossible. I wouldn’t want either of us to have regrets about it tomorrow. Especially when one of us has had too much to drink.”

She pushed herself away from the doorjamb, and Chase could see the resignation and regret in her luminous eyes.

“I understand, and I think you’re really sweet.” She smiled at him. “Leave it to me to find the one guy in the world with scruples.”

Scruples he’d rather do without, Chase thought grimly. He had to be the biggest idiot on the face of the planet to turn down what she was offering, but he knew from experience that casual sex never made him feel better, either about himself or the woman involved. Nope, better to let her go now and keep his fantasies about whatever might have been.

“Nobody has ever described me as sweet,” he said sardonically, to cover his own conflicting emotions. “If any of my men overheard you say that, you’d completely destroy my reputation as a hard-ass.”

“It will be our secret,” Elena promised, “so please don’t change.” Standing on tiptoe, she pressed a kiss against his cheek. At least, Chase suspected the kiss was meant for his cheek, but he instinctively turned his head to follow her movement, bringing his lips into direct contact with hers.

She stilled for a moment, and Chase realized his hands were resting loosely at her waist, while hers were pressed lightly against his chest for balance.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, just before she pressed her mouth fully against his.

FOR AN INSTANT, Elena thought he would either pull back or push her away. He held himself so rigidly still that if it weren’t for the warmth of his lips beneath hers, he might have been carved from stone. Elena knew she’d had too much to drink, but she hadn’t consumed so much that she didn’t know exactly what she was doing. The alcohol only blunted the sharp edges of her self-restraint and allowed her to loosen her tightly laced inhibitions. When he didn’t immediately move to end the kiss, Elena softened it, shaping the contours of his beautiful mouth.

A shudder went through him, and he made a sound like a half groan. Emboldened, Elena slid her hands along his rib cage and angled her mouth ever so slightly across his, enjoying the sensuality of the kiss. There was something erotic about being the aggressor, especially when she knew Chase could easily overpower her.

He didn’t resist when she backed him up against the open door of her room and delicately stroked her tongue along the seam of his lips, humming her approval when they parted for her. As if helpless to withstand her sensual assault, he began kissing her back, a soft, moist fusing of their mouths that made Elena go weak with desire. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt this hot, sweet yearning for a man.

His arms came slowly around her, holding her captive as he plundered her mouth, his tongue sliding against hers with expert precision. Elena welcomed his heat and strength, and she could feel her body blossom beneath his touch, as if anticipating their joining.

She was unprepared when Chase dragged his mouth from hers. “We can’t do this,” he muttered, trailing his lips over her cheek until he found the soft juncture of her throat and pressed his lips to her hammering pulse.

“We can’t not do this,” she whispered back. “Please … I really need this.”

She needed to feel connected to someone, to be touched and held and reminded that she was a desirable woman. It had been so long since she’d felt wanted by a man. Maybe that was partly her own fault for holding herself so rigidly in check, but the prospect of spending the next six months alone was almost too daunting to contemplate. Just for tonight, she wanted this physical bond. She needed it. She needed this man, with his amazing physique and heart-stopping smile, to want her as much as she wanted him.

His breathing was uneven in her ear. “We might never see each other again.”

Elena arched her neck, granting him better access. “I understand that, I really do. But you’d be doing me a huge favor if you stayed with me tonight. Please …” She threaded her fingers through his short hair, enjoying the velvet texture and feeling the warmth of his scalp beneath her fingertips. “Stay.”

She was glad he didn’t ask if she was sure.

She wasn’t.

She’d never done anything this reckless or bold in her life, but there was no way she was going to stop. She wanted to experience this man and everything he had to offer, even if it couldn’t last for more than one night. She would never say so to Chase, but there was a part of her that was grateful she wouldn’t see him again after tonight. If she didn’t see him again, he could never disappoint her.

“Please,” she repeated.

He didn’t argue. He simply swept her into his arms before she could utter another word and carried her into the room, kicking the door closed behind them. Elena had never before had a man pick her up so effortlessly, and there was a part of her that thrilled in his strength and the way it made her feel.

Feminine.

Fragile.

He set her on her feet next to the bed and without giving her a chance to move an inch, cupped her face in his hands and slanted his mouth across hers.

“I could kiss you like this all night,” he murmured. “You have the softest lips …”

Tilting her head back, he worked his way down her throat, planting soft kisses and gentle bites against her flesh, until Elena shivered with need. His fingers unhurriedly worked the buttons of her red blouse, until she felt cool air waft against her bare skin. She didn’t object when he pushed the shirt from her shoulders and drew her sleeves down, letting the garment drop to the floor until she stood before him in just her bra and jeans.

“Let me look at you,” he said, his voice husky. Stepping back, he leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Elena blinked against the sudden intrusion of light in the dark room, and then blushed as she realized Chase was staring at her. Only he wasn’t just looking at her, he was devouring her with his gaze, and the expression in his eyes made Elena feel both excited and nervous.

“What’s this?” he asked, and reaching out, he touched the necklace that nestled between her breasts, his fingertips brushing against her sensitized skin and sending jolts of awareness shooting through her.

“Something my sisters gave to me,” she said breathlessly, showing him the tiny silver angel charm that dangled from the chain. “It’s a guardian angel, to watch over me.”

“He’d better do his job,” he said huskily, letting the little charm drop back between her breasts. “Lucky little angel.”

“I’ve, um, never done anything like this before,” she admitted. Her bones felt deliciously weak, and although she suspected part of it was a result of the absinthe, the major cause was the man who stood looking at her with pure, male appreciation.

“You don’t have to do anything now,” he assured her. “We could just—” He broke abruptly off with a laugh. “Hell, I don’t know … we could just cuddle. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“But that’s just it,” she said. “I want to do this.”

Elena realized it was the truth. And not just because she was leaving in the morning for some remote base whose name she couldn’t even pronounce. She wanted this beautiful man and the promise of pleasure that lurked in his eyes. She’d never felt this kind of gnawing lust before. Ever. Her gaze dropped to his lush mouth and a sharp stab of desire speared through her. His lips were too tempting.

Keeping her eyes locked with his, Elena reached behind her and unfastened the clasp of her bra. She didn’t miss how Chase swallowed hard. Elena didn’t immediately let the undergarment go, but held it pressed against her breasts.

“When I first saw you back there at the party, I wondered …” Her voice trailed off as his gaze sharpened on her.

“What?” His voice sounded hoarse. “What did you wonder?”

“ … what you would taste like in my mouth.”

“Oh, Christ,” he groaned, and in the next instant Elena was in his arms.

She half expected him to pick her up and toss her onto the bed. Instead, he stroked his hands over her bare skin, his fingers finding the dips and curves of her body with infinite care. His turned his face into the arch of her neck and pressed his mouth against her throat. Then he tugged the bra free from her fingers and let it fall to the floor.

Elena didn’t have time to feel self-conscious before he covered one breast with his big hand, gently massaging her pliant flesh. She could feel the hard calluses on his palms and gasped at the sensations his touch created, unfamiliar with the cravings rising in her body.

She tipped her head back enough to see his face, and realized his eyes were a mix of browns and greens with flecks of pure gold, surrounded by thick lashes. With his eyes, cheekbones and delectable mouth, the only thing that kept him from too being perfect was his nose, which showed evidence of having been broken at some point.

As he cupped her breast, Elena pushed her hands beneath the hem of his T-shirt. He reflexively tensed, and her fingers skimmed over ridges of muscle across his abdomen. Larry had been a runner, and while he’d been lean, his body had lacked true definition. But not this man; he was sculpted in ways that Elena had never experienced before. She slid her hands higher, reveling in his warm, hard flesh.

He watched her the entire time, and the only indication that her touch affected him was the way his breathing hitched when her fingertips stroked over the small nubs of his nipples.

“Take this off,” she said softly, and he complied instantly, reaching behind his head to grab a fistful of shirt and drag it upward.

Elena couldn’t prevent a small indrawn breath.

Her first impression had been right; his was a body designed for a woman’s touch, and she was helpless to stop herself from running her hand over his chest. She took note of the small scars and imperfections, realizing she knew nothing of him or what he had experienced.

“I was right,” she murmured, tracing a long, thin scar that slashed over his ribs. “You’re tough.”

To her surprise, he laughed. “Oh, yeah. I’m real tough. That’s why I have absolutely no willpower where you’re concerned.”

Elena slid her arms around his waist until they were skin to skin, absorbing the feel of him. “I’m glad. I don’t want you to have any willpower tonight.”

With a rough sound, Chase lowered his head and caught her mouth in a kiss so deep that she felt it all the way to her toes. She didn’t object when he backed her up to the bed and pushed her gently down across the coverlet, following alongside her.

The bedspread was cool against her bare back, but Chase’s skin was hot against her breasts. Dragging his mouth from hers, he worked his way unhurriedly down her throat and over her chest, nuzzling her breasts with his mouth. Elena watched him, spellbound by the sight of his dark head against her pale skin, and feeling the rush of heat and wetness between her legs. When he took a nipple into his mouth and drew deeply on the stiffened tip, she gasped and arched upward, clutching at his shoulders.

He tormented first one breast and then the other, ignoring how Elena twisted beneath him, her hips shifting restlessly against his. He used his mouth to worship her body, moving from her breasts to her stomach, where he teased her navel with his tongue. His fingers moved to the waistband of her jeans and released the fastening in one easy flick of his fingers.

“Yes,” she panted, as he slowly drew the zipper down. She lifted her hips, and Chase dragged the jeans down the length of her legs until she lay on the bed wearing nothing but her panties.

“Oh, man,” he breathed, “you are so damned pretty.”

If Elena had worried that she might not meet his expectations, those doubts vanished beneath the heat in his gaze. Reaching out, she caught him by the waistband of his jeans and tugged until he came over her on all fours, with her fingers still tucked into his pants.

“Take these off,” she urged, needing to see him. “Hurry.”

Dawn would be here before they knew it, and Elena felt a sudden urgency to meld with this man, to own him and belong to him before it was too late. Even now, her duffel bags lay on the floor by the far wall, packed and ready to go. She suspected that if she were to visit Chase’s room, she would see the same.

“I’ll take them off,” Chase breathed, “but I want to go slow, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, too eager to see him to tell him that she had no intention of going slow. She was past ready for him. Even now, her panties were soaked with desire, and her sex throbbed with need. She’d listened to her sisters describe lust often enough, but she’d never understood the meaning of the word until now.

Leaning back, Chase unfastened the snap on his jeans, and Elena helped to push them down over his hips. Her breath caught as she saw his erection tenting the material of his cotton boxer shorts. As he stood and kicked his legs free, Elena sat up on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, she laid her hand over the hot ridge of flesh beneath the cotton, thrilling at how he jumped beneath her touch.

“I want to see you,” she said, and slid her fingers beneath the stretchy waistband to take him in her hand. His breath hissed in through clenched teeth as she curled her fingers around him, and her body pulsed hotly in response.

“You’re gorgeous,” she breathed, pushing his boxers down to stroke his length. Glancing upward, she saw Chase watching her through half-closed eyes, his face taut. “You know what I want to do.”

“Yeah.” His voice came out on a raspy groan.

Elena smiled. She’d never felt so sexy or powerful before in her life. This guy was the embodiment of masculine strength and beauty, and yet she literally held him trembling in the palm of her hand. The effect was an aphrodisiac.

She cupped his weight from beneath with one hand as she trailed her fingers along the velvety shaft with her other. The head of his penis was like a ripe plum, and Elena’s mouth watered with the need to taste him. Leaning forward, she ran her tongue lightly over the blunt tip.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “You taste delicious.” Then she took him fully into her mouth.

Chase made a rough sound, a mixture of surprise and arousal. His hands came up to frame her face, his fingers massaging the tender skin behind her ears. Emboldened, Elena took him deeper, swirling her tongue around him as she used her hand to stroke and caress his length. She pressed her thighs together, squeezing against the sharp throb of arousal between them.

“That’s enough,” he gasped and eased her away, his breath coming fast. “I won’t last if you keep that up, and I’m not ready for this to be over.”

Reluctantly, Elena released him and let him push her back onto the mattress. Bending over her, he pressed his mouth against her abdomen. The faint stubble on his jaw abraded the tender skin in a way that made her squirm in delicious anticipation.

“You smell great,” he murmured, and hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of her panties, pulling them down in one smooth movement. His lips drifted over the arch of her ribs and over the swell of her breasts until he reached a nipple and drew it into his mouth. Elena struggled for breath against the erotic sensations of his tongue and teeth, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him closer.

His warm hand skated over her stomach and lower, urging her legs apart so that he could cup her intimately. Elena’s thighs fell open and she pressed upward against his palm, wanting more of the delicious contact.

“That’s it,” he rasped against her breast, and swirled a finger over her slick flesh, parting her folds and finding the small rise of flesh that thrummed with need. “Oh, man, you’re so wet.”

He circled a finger over her clitoris, but it wasn’t enough. Elena’s skin went hot and her sex clenched hungrily. Someone moaned and she realized with a sense of shock that it was her. She needed more. Now.

“Soon,” Chase promised, as if reading her mind, and knelt between her splayed knees. He stroked a hand along her inner thigh, urging her legs wider, before he bent down and covered her with his mouth.

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