Surrendering To Her Sergeant (8 page)

Ay!
The ass!
It seemed the Special Forces
were giving their soldiers some extra training in balls-out
boldness these days.

That
was as far as she dared go in thinking about Ethan’s crotch.
As for having a face that could make even the most
jaded casting agent stop for a second look?
Probably not a Special Ops job necessity, though the man knew how
to work that angle when he wanted, as well—to perfection. For the
last five hours, she’d been close to hurling more at him than her
glower. Every time, he’d stopped her cold by flicking a charming
wink of those piercing blues or lifting one side of his mouth in a
deliberate grin. Knowing what he was doing to her with the looks.
Watching every drop of her blood heat from livid ice to aroused
flames because of it. Taunting her with what she couldn’t have and
shouldn’t crave—especially now.

That wasn’t even the worst of it. The
hardest moments had been ones like this, where she walked into the
room, this time the dining area between the open-plan kitchen and
the sprawling living room, and caught him unaware of her stare at
all. The rapt look on his face was beautiful as he listened to the
lively chatter of the villa’s two housekeepers, as well as the lead
maintenance team man. The maids went on in rapid-fire Spanish,
though the dialect was thicker than the Spanglish Ava had grown up
with so she couldn’t follow completely. Isko, the engineer, seemed
to share her impediment, though he understood enough to insert some
comments to the exchange. He used another language completely, but
Ethan nodded and chuckled in comprehension of the man’s insertions,
too.

Ava curled a hand to her chest,
acknowledging the somersault of her heart. When he laughed, he went
from beautiful to breathtaking. His eyes sparkled like the ocean
outside the open patio doors. His thick hair fell forward, teasing
his high temples. Subtle crinkles formed at the corners of his
mouth. Her chest made room for the somersault to become a full
floor routine.

What the hell was wrong with
her?

“Seven months,” she
whispered. “That’s the only thing wrong with you,
chica
. It’s been seven
months and you’re just…not used to this.”
Not used to
him.

And if it had been only seven days,
would she be? Seven hours?

Getting “used” to Ethan
Archer…to his effect on her skin, her nerves, her libido.
Right
. And California was
going to slide into the ocean next year. And an animated movie
would win the Academy Award for Best Picture. And somebody would
make a sexy heel that didn’t double as a torture device. Some
things belonged permanently on the ridiculous list.

Suddenly, he looked up. Directly at
her.

Ava retreated, mounting the half-dozen
stairs to a landing that overlooked the area, pretending “dust” on
the wrought iron rails had become the most fascinating thing in the
world. She waited for one of his brows to lift in question, or his
knowing smile, or his brash sideways smirk—

None of which came.

He simply stood, gave a
quick
gracias
for
the staff’s time then put those long legs to work on a path
straight toward her. Once at her side, he scooped both her hands
into his. His gaze left no inch of her face untouched by its power.
As it did, his mien did a slow burn from surface casual to deeply
concentrated.

“What is it?”

Clearly, the question he’d put on the
phrase was a formality. The words were a demand, plain and simple.
Ava squirmed, feigning interest in that dirt again, trying to break
from his hold…from the piercing force of his eyes. “Besides the
fact that you’re gawking like I’m going to vanish into thin air any
second?”

“Wouldn’t be the first
time.” He readjusted his hold to weave their fingers into each
other. The struggle to get free of him was officially stamped
with
No Dice
. “You
still didn’t answer the question. What are you
thinking?”

She gave him a long moment of
contemplation before rendering a quiet reply. “Honestly? I’m
thinking that those three have been working in this house for two
years, and in that time, Bella hasn’t talked with them as much as
you just did.”

The revelation didn’t seem to surprise
him, though dropping Bella’s name darkened his gaze. Whether that
was a good thing or bad thing, she couldn’t determine.

“Pity,” he said at last. “They’re good
people. Paloma’s daughter graduates from high school next week.
Valedictorian. Dory wants to get back to El Salvador to see her
grandmother before the woman dies.”

“And they’ve been having problems with
a goose in the swimming pool?”

That set free a new chuckle from him.
“Not a goose. Just a duck. Apparently, Bella hates the thing, but
it really likes her. She’s ordered Isko to kill it but he doesn’t
have the heart.”

She let a smile rise. “He’s a good
guy.”

“Sure is.”

“He wasn’t speaking
Spanish.”

“No shit.” He beamed a teasing grin.
“It was Tagalog. He’s from Batangas, in the Philippines. Wants to
move back too, but he’s come to the States for a woman. Doesn’t
know if he wants to put a ring on it, though.”

Her smile dropped into a
surprised gawk. “You got all
that
out of him?” After he shrugged and nodded, she
pressed, “How many languages do you speak?”

“Fluently? Four. Working on five but
fuck, Chinese is hard.”

Ava gazed at him with renewed
fascination. She wondered how many other secrets the man was hiding
under all that beautiful hair—and more prominently, if she’d really
uncovered a person who charged at their goals more passionately
than her. She wasn’t just allured. She was aroused.

Lethal
thinking
. She couldn’t do this. Not with
him. Especially not after what she’d learned this morning—and what
she’d seen. The certainty in Bella’s grip on his arm. The
possessive flecks in the woman’s almond-shaped eyes.
Pendeja
. Lusting after
the boss’s new toy was Stupid, capital
S
. Technically, “new” didn’t even
apply. Bella had played with this one before and now wanted another
turn with the improved model. This Ethan was bigger, bolder, and
more beautiful thanks to the very job that should have Ava stamping
a skull and crossbones across his forehead to remind her of a few
things.
Danger. Poison. Stay
away
.

“Hello? Earth to Ava?”

Of course, it was easier to
push toys away when the damn things cooperated. Like
not
kicking up a lopsided
smile that made a girl want to kiss them and punch them in the same
moment. “Ethan,” she blurted, “I still have a lot to get done,
okay?”

Her renewed effort at escape got a
tighter squeeze of denial. “And you’ll accomplish it all better if
you take a break.”

“No. I’ll accomplish it all
if I
do
it
all.”

“Shut up.”

Despite the crack, he got benevolent
and let her have one hand back. No, not benevolence. Ulterior
motive. He used her free hand to pull her toward a small outside
balcony. Ava sighed but didn’t protest. What would be the use?
Besides, it was a beautiful early June afternoon. The typical
coastal haze had been burned off early. The breeze was sharp, with
a hint of summer’s approaching warmth. It was nice and bright out
here. Sunny and safe.

She turned her face up into the golden
rays before asking him, “So, did you give Isko any advice? About
the woman and the ring?”

Amazingly, Ethan let her have her
second hand back. He leaned an elbow on the rail and gazed past
Bella’s Italianate terrace, peacefully taking in the slope of
Catalina Island toward the south and the larger silhouette of
Anacapa Island toward the north. “I told him to go
home.”

She felt her brows jump. “Just like
that? After only knowing him a few hours?”

He cocked his head back toward her.
The sun flashed in his eyes and the wind danced in his hair. Just
like that, all traces of his casual mien were gone. “I could’ve
told him that after a few minutes.” At the are-you-nuts glare she
refused to hide, he asserted, “A man usually knows what he wants,
sunshine. If he has to question wanting it, then it’s not worth
dicking around about.”

The words dropped between
them like grenades, bursting open with plumes of new meaning and
thick resolution.
His
resolution.

A gulp thudded its way down Ava’s
throat. “Oh.”

Ethan took her hand again. He guided
her fingers up, sliding them beneath his hair until they pressed
against his nape. He circled his other arm around her waist,
dragging her close until her body was locked inside the frame of
his unflinching muscles. His grip was fervent as the sun but
merciless as the sea wind, urging her closer until she saw nothing
but him.

“I’m not dicking around about you,
Ava.” With steady surety, he slid his hands until he cupped the
swell of her ass. A gasp erupted from her throat before she could
control it. Another followed as he squeezed her there, sending a
thousand jolts of awareness into every tissue between her thighs.
“I never was,” he went on. “Since that first moment I saw you, both
of us tangled in all that wedding shit at Sage and
Garrett’s…”

“When you thought I was a
terrorist?”

Her attempt at levity didn’t work. “I
would’ve been less scared if you were,” he uttered. “I—fuck—I was
in such deep trouble. It’s been a long time for me, doing all
this…feeling all this. That day, just from rolling with you on the
floor like that…”

His face tightened as if he were in
pain. She ached from watching his brow furrow and his lips twist,
until he lowered his beautiful mouth to her cheek, brushing her
skin with heat as he continued in a harsh whisper. “That night at
Hawk’s bachelor party, all I could think of was how many ways I
wanted you in my bed.” He worked his way to the edge of her ear.
Ava dipped her head back, giving him better access to her neck.
“Yeah, even the kinky ways,” he whispered. “Christ, I tried to be
good…and I was…until we were in the forest the next day, and you
begged me to pin you tighter to that tree, and—”

“And it felt so right.”

Shit.

Why had she let the words
slip out, instead of letting him be responsible for them? And why,
oh
why
did she
finish them by scoring his scalp with her nails, urging his mouth
harder against her skin, letting him bend her back over the
balcony’s edge so he could plunge his tongue lower, into the
V
of her shirt, leading
down between her breasts? Why didn’t she stop him from twisting
buttons loose and pulling the fabric open, exposing the lace-edged
cups of her bra to him? Why wasn’t she pushing him back instead of
moaning from the searing pleasure of it, reveling in the feel of
him against her?
Ah
Dios
,
his body was
so big. His mouth was so urgent. His touch was so electric. Her
skin sizzled. Her senses reeled.

So much for the damn balcony being
safe.

He didn’t stop unbuttoning her at a
few holes. The pearl discs fell free beneath his fast twists until
her shirt fell open, revealing her waist and the top of her hips.
He smoothed the flesh with his long fingers before following the
same path with his lips, nipping at her skin, wetting it enough so
when the wind moved in after, delicious tingles washed through her.
She swallowed hard, struggling not to be riveted by the sight of
his dark head against her bare flesh, fighting not to love
it.

Before she could get a grip on herself
and move, he rose and covered her again. His body fitted to hers.
His mouth delved into hers. He didn’t waste time on subtle pretense
with the kiss now. His assault was full and consuming, a hot
barrage designed to melt her mind. The next moment, she knew
exactly why.

“It’s still right, sunshine.” He
grated it against her mouth. “Goddamnit, it’s so right.” He lifted
a hand and gripped her cheek, compelling her to stay focused on
him…to witness the steel blades of determination in his beautiful
gaze. “I refuse to let you deny it this time.”

Her breathing faltered.
Conflict whipped at her soul. Saying no wasn’t going to be as easy
as deleting a text or ignoring a phone call this time. Or God help
her, even thinking about Bella and her implied claim on the man.
Bella wasn’t here right now. She wouldn’t be for hours. The
caterers were prepping the meal in the kitchen. The terrace was
pristine, the house was being readied. There was nothing to think
about, to surrender to, but this stolen gift of time with the man
who’d stalked her thoughts and haunted her dreams since last fall.
Ethan.
Ethan.
His
effortless strength. His single-minded passion. His primal need for
control.

I refuse to let you deny
it this time.

She sifted her fingers in his hair and
gazed deeper into his eyes. “This time,” she repeated, “I don’t
want to deny it, either.”