Authors: Catherine Mann
Five
seconds
later,
he
swung
back
into
his
Humvee
seat
beside
her.
“Wow.”
She
took
her
mango
from
his
outstretched
hand.
“That
came
with
everything
except
the
Tarzan whoop.”
“I
was
thinking
more
along
the
lines
ofJungle
Book,
”
he
replied
between
bites
of
mango.
“The
big
ol’
bear was
always
my
favorite,
and
here
I
am
with
the
bare
necessities.” She
swiped
her
wrist
along
the
side
of
her
mouth
where
juice
trickled.
“I
like
your
humor.”
“Thank
you,
babe.”
He
carved
his
mango
with
his
hunting
knife.
Had
it
been
cleaned
since
the
Sergio
the Snake
incident?
“I
like
you,
too.”
Watching
that
knife
so
ably
wielded
in
his
large
hands
was
a
serious
turnon,
too,
and
the
turnons
were accumulating
with
manic
speed.
Their
attraction
had
never
been
in
question.
How
easy
it
would
be
to
make true
the
rumor
of
them
sneaking
off
for
sex.
Finished
with
her
mango,
she
peeled
her
banana
and
gave
up
tamping
down
sexual
thoughts.
Thinking
of bananas
in
a
sexual
manner
didn’t
even
really
qualify
as
subliminal.
It
didn’t
help
matters
that
her
mama
had taught
her
to
use
condoms
in
the
ninth
grade
by
practicing
on
a
ripe,
firm
banana.
Of
course
her
mama
had expected
her
to
be
sexually
active
very
young
as
undoubtedly
her
mom
had
been.
Yet
in
her
first
three
years
of
high
school,
Grace
Marie’s
curves
were
far
more
generous,
not
what
boys
were looking
for
when
their
eyes
gravitated
to
the
teensy
cheerleader
types.
Then
her
senior
year,
she’d
joined
Jr.
ROTC,
and
the
extra
pounds
melted
off.
The
popular
guys
started
circling,
but
she
couldn’t
forget
that
those same
boys
hadn’t
looked
twice
before
when
she
was
crying
her
eyes
out
on
prom
night
with
a
box
of Twinkies
while
watching
the
video
ofSixteen
Candles
for
the
twentyseventh
time.
Instead,
she
picked
her
date
from
pretty
much
the
same
pool
her
father
would
have
run
in
during
his
younger years
and
whoa
Nellie,
wasn’t
that
a
factoid
for
the
psych
books?
They
were
wilder
than
some
would
have expected.
All
right,
enough
traveling
down
memory
lane.
She
wrapped
her
mouth
around
the
fruit
and
to
hell
with phallic
symbols,
because
she
was
still
hungry.
Bobby
slouched
in
his
seat,
chomping
away
on
his
third
mango.
“This
kinda
reminds
me
of
our
first
date
the week
before
we
left
for
Iraq,
when
our
teams
were
briefing
together.” She
choked
on
her
bite,
pressed
her
wrist
to
her
mouth
and
struggled
to
recover
her
composure.
“Um, because
you’re
snitching
free
food?”
“Good
parallel,
but
not
the
one
I
was
shooting
for,
thanks.”
He
opened
the
door
a
crack
and
pitched
out
the pit.
“I
was
thinking
more
of
how
my
truck
broke
down
on
our
first
date
the
night
before
we
deployed
to Iraq.”
“I’d
forgotten
about
that.”
She’d
cracked
her
heel
on
the
walk
to
the
gas
station,
but
laughed
when
Bobby
responded
by
scooping
her up
into
a
piggyback
ride.
He’d
worn
a
sports
jacket
and
tie
and
she’d
chosen
her
favorite
little
black
dress—
which
ripped
halfway
up
her
leg
when
he’d
hauled
her
onto
his
back
for
the
rest
of
the
walk.
She’d
been
too
busy
laughing
to
notice.
Too
turnedon
to
care.
Then
they’d
both
gone
to
Iraq
after
that
weekend
for
a
short
stint.
Their
next
two
dates
had
been
widely spaced
but
progressively
intense.
Deeply
scary,
because
Bobby
was
a
man
without
boundaries
and
she desperately
needed
her
space.
“Do
you
still
have
that
beatup
old
pieceofcrap
truck?
What
was
it
you called
her?”
“Sweet
Thing?
Of
course
I
do.
I
dropped
a
new
engine
in
and
she
runs
just
fine.”
He
kissed
his
fingers.
“Truly
a
suhweet
thing.”
“Hmm.”
She
had
to
admire
his
thriftiness
and
seeming
lack
of
concern
for
what
anyone
thought
of
him,
but also
couldn’t
squelch
her
curiosity.
What
did
he
do
with
the
rest
of
his
money?
He’d
once
told
her
since
he
was
TDY
or
deployed
nearly
ten
months
out
of
the
year,
he
didn’t
even
have
an apartment
of
his
own.
He
and
three
other
thrifty
fellas
rented
a
small
place
to
stow
their
stuff.
Finished
with
his
supper,
he
swiped
the
knife
flat
side
down
his
thigh
to
clean
it,
then
the
other
side
before sheathing
it
once
again.
“Don’t
tell
me
you’re
the
vanitycar
sort.” Her?
Not
hardly.
Her
car
was
every
bit
as
staid
and
beige
as
she
was
these
days.
“No,
it’s
just
that
you
have such
amazing
transportation
at
work
with
these
cuttingedge
aircraft.
Other
flyers
I’ve
seen
really
enjoy speed,
horsepower
when
they’re
on
the
ground,
too—new
trucks.
And
the
number
of
motorcycles
among Special
Ops
guys
is
astounding.
I
can’t
figure
out
why
you
would
choose
to
drive
something
that’s borderline
unsafe.”
“And
this
Hummvee
here
is
working
any
better
than
my
truck?”
“Spiked
booby
traps
will
do
that
to
anything.”
She
stated
the
obvious.
He
tapped
her
nose
and
grinned.
“I’m
just
yanking
your
chain.
I
actually
bought
a
nice
used
truck
a
couple of
weeks
ago—Suhweet
Thing
Two.”
She
really
was
uptight
if
he
could
“yank
her
chain”
that
easily.
She
should
be
able
to
follow
the
train
of
his thinking,
since
she
was
a
pro,
after
all.
However
all
professional
training
seemed
to
go
out
the
window around
this
guy.
“Used,
huh?”
She
tipped
her
best
flirty
grin
and
decided
to
play
along,
because
it
was
fun
and
too
often
she starched
the
fun
right
out
of
her
life.
“A
nice
fifteenyearold
model,
gently
used,
with
only
a
dented
front fender
and
strategically
sprayed
bondo?”
He
clapped
a
hand
over
his
heart
as
if
mortally
wounded.
“Three
years
old,
thank
you
very
much.
Still
has
a newcar
smell
as
far
as
I’m
concerned.”
She
shared
his
laughter,
the
sounds
twining
to
bounce
around
the
inside
of
the
vehicle
and,
damn,
that
sound felt
good
seeping
into
her
skin.
He
settled
back,
hands
on
his
knees
that
were
of
course
bouncing
since
he
never
sat
still.
“Actually,
there’s no
need
for
me
to
keep
a
great
car
around.
I’m
only
home
a
couple
of
months
a
year
these
days.”
“That
doesn’t
leave
much
downtime
for
relaxation.”
She’d
seen
plenty
of
combat
stress
over
the
past
few years.
So
much,
there
were
days
she
exercised
herself
into
oblivion
to
work
through
all
she’d
heard
from
these
men and
women
carrying
burdens
in
their
heads
and
hearts.
They
needed
more
vacation
time
between deployments,
but
she
didn’t
have
much
sway
over
that.
“Downtime?”
He
scratched
his
head.
“I
vaguely
recall
taking
a
Caribbean
cruise
with
you…no…wait…it was
just
a
dream
one
time
when
I
fell
asleep
in
a
hotel
hot
tub.” Night
sounds
from
outside
still
seeped
in,
muffled
but
intimate,
reminding
her
of
their
first
date,
which
ended with
a
beach
walk.
She’d
been
TDY
down
at
his
base
in
the
Florida
Panhandle,
Hurlburt
Field
near
Fort Walton
Beach,
preparing
for
a
twoweeklong
training
swing
through
Kuwait
and
Iraq.
Hurlburt
even
owned
its
own
stretch
of
sand
along
the
Gulf
of
Mexico.
They’d
walked,
and
he’d
taken
her there
for
a
first
kiss
as
well
before
the
truck
incident.
“The
date
was
really
nice,
though.
You
took
me
out
to a
great
restaurant.”
“I
seem
to
recall
you
didn’t
think
it
was
funny
when
I
put
a
bread
stick
in
my
pocket.” Her
lips
twitched.
“It
was
alittle
funny.”
He’d
made
her
laugh
plenty
that
night,
a
memory
she’d
apparently
buried
in
lieu
of
all
her
fears
about
other aspects
of
his
personality.
Of
course,
that
first
kiss
had
drawn
her
in
with
a
burning
need
to
come
back
for more.
That
he
hadn’t
pressed
for
sex
on
the
first
date
had
surprised
her.
And
impressed
her.
He
thumbed
some
fruit
from
the
corner
of
her
grinning
mouth.
“Ah,
so
the
disapproving
schoolmarm
gig
is all
an
act.”
It
worked
well
putting
most
men
in
their
place,
but
then
Bobby
wasn’t
most
men.
“Maybe,
maybe
not.”
“A
woman
of
mystery.”
She
snorted.
“Yeah,
right.”
“You
are.”
Really?
What
a
heady
thought
that
she
might
shake
his
world
as
much
as
he
did
hers.
“Right?”
“Mysterious.”
“You’re
full
of
crap.
I
thought
we’d
already
turned
this
page,
Bobby.”
“You’re
right.”
He
cupped
the
side
of
her
face,
thumb
brushing
her
cheekbone.
“I
wanted
you
to
know
I took
you
out
for
that
dinner
to
impress
you,
because
you
sure
impressed
the
hell
out
of
me
the
second
I
saw you.”
He
dazzled
her.
Still.
It
was
all
she
could
do
not
to
nip
his
thumb
with
her
teeth
and
then
suck
on
it
in
an unmistakable
message
of
sensuality.
Instead,
he
brought
it
to
his
mouth
and
sucked
the
fruit
off
his
own
skin.
Even
more
sexy.
She
shivered.
Wanted.
Wondered
why
she
couldn’t
urge
herself
to
lean
just
a
hint
forward
and
she
could have
it
all,
another
Bobby
Ruznick
kiss
that
stirred
a
tornado
within
her.
An
outofcontrol
tornado
that would
swirl
everything
inside
her
until
the
Humvee
would
be
their
whole
world,
nothing
outside.
Her
mind
stumbled
on
that
last
thought.
Her
ears
perked
just
as
Bobby
looked
up.
A
roar
swelled
outside,
a stirring
of
grass
and
dirt
around
their
vehicle
that
made
it
almost
impossible
to
see
outside.
Bobby
shook
his
head.
“Face
always
did
have
the
crappiest
timing.”
“Face?
Timing?”
Her
mind
was
still
back
on
thoughts
of
licking
mango
juice
off
each
other.
“Looks
like
my
buddies
have
arrived,
undoubtedly
with
a
mechanic
and
a
new
set
of
tires.” The
dust
spiral
slowed
and
thinned
to
reveal
the
CV22
landing
in
the
clearing
beside
them.
Bobby
left
the Humvee,
tugging
Grace
Marie
along
with
him.
The
crank
of
the
rotors
slowed,
quieted
enough
for
speech.
Bobby
shouted
to
his
pal
Face
as
he
and
the spare
copilot
stepped
out
of
the
craft.
“About
time
y’all
turned
up.” Face
shook
his
head.
“And
what
dipshitbad
timing
for
you
to
snitch
a
vehicle
to
go
make
out
in
the
woods.” He
paused,
winced
and
gave
Gracie
one
of
his
affable
smiles.
“Sorry.
No
disrespect
intended.”
“None
taken.”
She
would
rather
he
think
she
was
sharing
mangotasting
kisses
with
Bobby
than
explain
the debacle
with
her
father.
“Thank
you,
Lieutenant,”
Face
continued.
“The
base
camp
is
in
an
uproar
over
our
surprise
visitor.”
“Visitor?”
Bobby
frowned.
“General
Hank
Renshaw
just
landed
all
stealthy
like
and
has
called
a
meeting.
Pronto.
So
we
need
to
haul your
asses
back
before
he
realizes
you’re
gone.”
A
general?
At
their
little
encampment?
Her
thoughts
too
quickly
flew
back
to
her
father’s
silence
in
the nuclear
thinktank
retreat.
Please,
please,
please
don’t
let
these
two
events
be
connected,
especially
since she’d
lost
her
chance
to
get
to
her
father
first.
SPRAWLED
INJiang’s
tangled
bedsheets,
Rurik
ran
his
fingers
through
the
length
of
her
ebony
hair.
Incense
hung
in
the
air.
He
touched
her
naked
body,
sated
and
halfawake.
Ebony
swirls
of
hair
covered
her new
dragon
tattoo
she’d
gotten
on
the
small
of
her
back
to
commemorate
the
fierceness
of
their
love.
The
explosion
scare
during
their
midnight
snack
had
been
nothing
more
than
some
idiot
youths
playing
with chemicals
without
approval.
The
program
for
university
undergraduates
was
a
mammoth
waste
of
time
in
his opinion.
They
didn’t
understand
the
importance
of
this
project.
They
only
saw
things
at
face
value.
However,
a
few
of
the
graduate
students
grasped
the
full
breadth
of
information
available
here.
He
worked
in
security
and
evenhe
understood.
He
envisioned
so
much
more.
Immortality
through
creation.
And
soon
the
world
would
see
what
he
saw.
Soon,
but
not
yet.
Timing
was
important.
He
would
prove
to his
father
he
could
be
someone
special.
For
now,
he
would
lose
himself
in
Jiang’s
lithe
body
so
he
could
forget
for
a
moment
that
the
world
was changing.
People
had
to
watch
out
for
themselves
and
their
interests
and
principles.
Old
avenues
of
effecting change
folded
daily.
Things
that
never
would
have
crossed
a
person’s
mind
now
became
the
norm
for survival.
He
was
only
twenty,
disowned
for
not
living
life
his
father’s
aristocratic
way.
He’d
studied
to
receive
a
place
on
this
security
team.
It
must
be
divine
providence
that
put
him
here,
giving Jiang
and
him
the
chance
to
be
a
part
of
the
famous
Dr.
Lanier’s
discoveries.
Times
had
changed.
Brawn
no
longer
ruled
the
world.
Brains
won.
Years
of
being
teased
in
school
for
his
weakling
appearance
and
geeky
ways
had
finally
paid
off.
Now
he had
the
brain
and
brawn,
thanks
to
a
surprise
growth
spurt
at
sixteen,
combined
with
some
minor
steroid
use.
Not
too
much,
though,
because
he
refused
to
let
anything
drain
his
ability
with
women.
Something
he
was
grateful
for
now
more
than
ever
as
he
sought
to
impress
Jiang
with
his
performance.
And power.
Jiang
stroked
him
even
in
her
sleep,
always
giving.
He
hated
that
her
reputation
could
be
sullied
with
his presence
in
her
quarters,
but
he
couldn’t
stay
away.
She
rolled
onto
her
side
beside
him,
rustling
the
sheets
still
damp
with
sweat
from
their
vigorous
lovemaking.
Shy
virginnomore
Jiang
had
surprised
him.
She
would
do
anything
he
asked
in
bed,
on
the
floor,
against the
wall,
on
her
hands
and
knees.
Anything.
“Tell
me
again,”
Jiang
Lee
asked
in
his
language,
surprisingly
awake
and
alert.
He
didn’t
have
to
ask
what
she
wanted
to
hear.
He
knew.
Their
dream
future,
where
they
would
be
free
to settle
down.
The
specifics
of
that
they
played
around
with
and
changed
each
time
of
telling.
“Your
country
or
mine,
this
time?”
She
placed
her
hand
on
his
bare
chest,
scratching
her
painted
nails
gently
through
the
mat
of
hair.
“I
would miss
my
homeland,
but
if
I
am
with
you,
none
of
it
matters.
Tonight,
let
us
plan
for
your
country.
Tell
me more.”
Why
not
fantasize
for
her?
Let
her
keep
her
emotional
innocence
about
the
world
a
while
longer.
“Mountains,”
he
answered,
mentally
transporting
them
from
this
stark
room
and
silence
outside
the
door
and windows,
“much
like
the
landscape
here,
except
the
greenery
and
foliage
is
much
tamer,
smaller
roses
rather than
flamboyant
orchids.”
Yet
Jiang
was
more
like
a
rose.
Perhaps
that
was
why
he
felt
so
drawn
to
her.
She
was
a
mix
of
his
country and
hers—a
unique,
oneofakind
rose.His.
She
would
have
enchanted
their
neighbors
with
her
whimsical
generosity.
He
let
himself
seep
into
that imaginary
world,
envisioning
her
even
starting
her
own
shop
of
incense,
spices,
meditation
tapes
and
classes.
She
would
bring
peace
with
her
wherever
she
went.
She
hooked
her
slim,
cool
leg
over
his,
her
knee
brushing
against
his
replete
penis.
Jiang
kissed
his
shoulder.
“We
will
settle
in
a
small
town
where
we
can
make
lifelong
friends.”
“There
are
plenty
of
villages
to
choose
from.”
Part
of
him
yearned
to
turn
on
the
steel
bedside
lamp
so
he could
see
her
body
better,
but
then
the
light
would
likely
pull
them
into
the
reality
of
the
here
and
now.