A Blazing Little Christmas(45)

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

“That’s not some kind of line, is it?” She hadn’t grown up in a city home to both an Army and an air force base without hearing about that kind of ploy before. His hands stilled on her body.

“No games. I had a drink with a friend tonight because I’m Afghanistan-bound first thing Sunday morning. I’m looking at a yearlong stint.”

The news sucked for him more than her, and after only knowing him for all of an hour, it damn well sucked in her book. But then, his intensity, his refusal to play games, his ability to lay all his cards on the table for her tonight made perfect sense. She’d found out earlier that he was a helicopter pilot—a dangerous job in a war zone. No doubt he was living for the moment tonight.

The silence stretched as she thought about that. About him and the reality of what he’d signed on for.

And in the space of another heartbeat, she made up her mind. She was already so hot for this man she was about to catch fire. Besides, didn’t she consider herself a patriot?

Well, cue the “Star Spangled Banner,” because Jared Tyler Murphy was one American soldier who would head off to his overseas assignment with all the fireworks he could handle.

“Then it looks like you’re coming home with me, Army-man.”

* * *

When they reached her cabin, Heather handed Jared the key card, her nerves too jangled to use it. She felt as though she’d received a shot of that peppermint schnapps from all those years ago, her whole body humming with energy and pulsating sensations. She stepped back and bumped into a reindeer made of willow branches with a wreath around its neck.

Jared unlocked the door and pulled her inside before sliding the bolt. The sound of the security lock shooting into place had a finality that sent a shiver up her spine while she bent to plug in the lights on a tabletop tree decorated with red bows.

He turned to look at her, their eyes connecting for an instant before he pulled her into his arms and started pulling off her clothes. Her hat. Mittens. Coat.

“You’re back.” She smiled to see the laser intensity of his eyes, the heat steaming off of him as he watched her.

“What?” He didn’t break his stripping stride as he turned his attention to his own clothes. Jacket. Shirt. T-shirt.

Clearly getting out of the Army hadn’t affected his dedication to his workout routine. Her mouth watered at the sight of sculpted abs and sinewy arms.

“The look in your eyes that I remembered from five years ago. I wondered earlier where it went, but it seems to have returned.”

With a vengeance.

The phrase popped into her head unbidden and she remembered her own plans for a taste of revenge. Right now all she cared about was having a taste of him.

“I wanted to move slower this weekend.” He unbuttoned her blouse while he looked in her eyes, demonstrating extraordinary deftness with women’s clothes. “I tried.”

“I would have had to hurt you if you tried any harder.” Her threat didn’t carry much weight considering she melted in his arms.

“God, I missed you.” He growled the admission into her neck as he lowered his mouth to kiss her there.

His lips covered a pulse point under her chin and he paused there, circling the throbbing vein with his tongue. She shivered at the heat of it, the tenderness of his words echoing in her ears.

I missed you. She’d have to be made of stone for those words not to affect her. Wrenching herself away from the kiss, she placed her hands on his chest to hold him back, her pink polished fingernails appearing seriously outmatched by the strength of his pecs. She studied him in the dim light from two miniature lamps on either side of the fireplace. And damn it, she’d bet anything that he wasn’t lying. He had missed her. Thought about her. Felt something for her.

And didn’t that just shift her whole perspective?

“Kiss me.” She heard herself say what she’d been thinking, the veil between actions and feelings stripped away along with the blouse he shoved off her shoulders. “Take me.”

* * *

Jared knew a green light when he saw it and nothing would be stopping him now.

His lips found hers. Tasted. Savored and devoured by turns. Her tongue stroked his, her whole body pressed into him. Slipping a hand under her hair, he stroked her nape.

She made a sighing sound at the back of her throat, her fingers working the

clasp of his belt. Restless. Hungry.

“Bed.” He walked her backward toward the hall leading to the bedroom.

“No. Here.” She tugged the belt free of the loops and started to work on his fly. “We’ve walked far enough tonight, haven’t we?”

Her scent filled his nostrils, that floral blend from the silky scarf that had carried him through so many hellish nights stationed in a war zone.